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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


MUSIC 
LIBRARY 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arciiive 

in  2007  witii  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.arcliive.org/details/annotationsuponpOOrobiiala 


ANNOTATIONS 


UPON 


Popular  Hymns 


BY 

CHARLES   SEYMOUR   ROBINSON,   D.D. 


Editor  and  Compiler  of  "Songs  of  the  Church,"  1862;    "Songs  for  the  Sanctuary,"  1865; 

"  Psalms  and  Hymns, "  1875;    "  Spiritual  Songs,"  1878;    "Laudes 

Domini,"  1884;    "  New  Laudes  Domini,"  1892 


FOR  USE  IN  PRAISE-MEETINGS 


New  York:    HUNT  &  EATON 

Cincinnati  :   CRANSTON  &  CURTS 


Copyright,  1893,  by 
HUNT    &    EATON, 

New  York. 


4 


MUSIC 
LIBRARY 

•     3/2. 
PREFACE. 


These  Annotations  have  been  provided  witli  Indexes,  particular  and  voluminous,  so 
that  references  to  hymns  by  the  Authors  of  them,  as  well  as  by  the  First  Lines  of  them, 
can  easily  be  reached.  Hence  they  might  be  used  with  almost  all  the  best  hymnals  in 
common  employment  in  evangelical  churches.  For  the  sake  of  following  some  order  and 
establishing  some  limit  in  the  selection,  the  hymns  have  been  chosen  mostly  from  Laucies 
Doiiiz'nz,  issued  in  1884,  and  A^ew  Laudes  Domini,  issued  in  1892 — two  manuals  for  singing 
by  choirs  and  congregations,  which  have  attained  a  phenomenally  wide  use  among  the 
various  Christian  denominations. 

It  is  interesting  to  notice  an  intelligent  growth  in  public  sentiment  concerning  the  gen- 
eral subject  of  hymnological  study.  Churches  now  are  not  satisfied  with  mere  stanzas 
which  might  be  lined  out  to  be  sung  in  fragments.  They  want  hymns  that  are  poetical  in 
spirit  and  in  structure  rhythmical  and  lyrical.  Within  a  few  years  no  hymnbook  has  had  pros- 
perity unless  it  has  supplied  the  names  of  the  authors  with  at  least  some  hints  concerning 
their  biographies.  Out  of  this  has  rapidly  been  developed  a  taste  for  inquiry  concerning  the 
histories  of  particular  pieces  which  God's  singing  people  have  learned  to  love.  And  a  great 
wealth  of  new  compositions  has  suddenly  been  put  within  the  glad  reach  of  the  various 
denominations  of  Christians  during  the  three  decades  just  closing  the  nineteenth  century. 
Little  by  little  the  familiar  names  of  Ray  Palmer,  Charlotte  Elliott,  Horatius  Bonar,  Edward 
Caswall,  Frances  Ridley  Havergal,  Thomas  Hastings,  and  John  Mason  Neale  have 
advanced  into  fame  until  their  contributions  to  the  sacred  songs  of  the  religious  world  are 
rivaling  in  number  and  worth  those  of  Isaac  Watts,  Anne  Steele,  James  Montgomery,  and 
even  John  Newton  and  William  Covvper  and  Charles  Wesley.  We  all  want  to  know  about 
these  choristers  of  many  choirs  and  lands  and  tongues,  many  of  whom  are  already  singing 
in  their  white  robes  on  the  other  side  of  the  mysterious  vail. 

The  volume  now  laid  before  the  public  has  grown  slowly  through  a  period  of  years. 
It  has  been  prepared  specially  as  a  help  for  "  Praise  Meetings,"  or  so-called  "  Services  of 
Song."  Almost  any  hymn  appropriate  to  such  employment  in  a  promiscuous  Sabbath 
gathering  of  God's  devout  people  may  be  found  here  suitably  noticed.  It  lowers  the  tone 
of  joyous  and  happy-hearted  worship  of  the  Highest  to  spend  the  hours  announced  for 
communion  and  thanksgiving  in  singing  the  pieces  appropriate  only  to  camp  meetings  and 
to  gospel  missions  for  the  conversion  of  sinners.  It  is  very  'rare,  if  ever,  that  hymns 
of  wrestling  conviction  or  of  poignant  penitence  can  be  utilized  in  a  jubilant  act  of  worship. 

The  various  paragraphs  of  incident  and  exposition,  of  biography,  history,  literary  crit- 
icism, and  art  suggestion,  which  are  attached  now  and  then  to  the  data  of  authorship  and 
composition  in  tiie  book,  cannot  be  appreciated  nor  even  understood  unless  this  explanation 
is  intelligently  accepted.  The  attempt  is  made  in  each  annotation  to  give  to  an  inexperi- 
enced leader  a  thought  of  such  a  character  that  he  will  find  a  hint  in  it  or  out  of  it  avail- 
able in  the  course  of  the  comment  he  will  have  to  frame  as  he  introduces  each  piece  to  be 
sung.  Much  depends  on  the  taste  and  aptitude  of  the  minister  who  presides  in  these  serv- 
ices. He  must  always  preach.  No  spiritual  man  has  any  business  to  give  up  a  Christian 
pulpit  on  the  Lord's  Day  to  anything  besides  preaching  God's  gospel  of  salvation  to  men. 


1172983 


4  PREFACE. 

Madame  Antoinette  Sterling  once  said  with  great  spirit  to  me,  "  They  say  that  I  preach  in 
my  singing ;  so  I  do  ;  so  I  try  to  do ;  so  I  mean  to  do  always ! "  And  no  one  that  ever 
heard  this  gifted  artist  with  her  clear  and  distinct  enunciation,  her  matchlessly  pathetic  tones, 
her  magnetic  impulse  forcing  tears  in  his  eyes  when  he  could  not  stop  to  notice  that  she 
had  tears  in  her  own — no  one  who  ever  heard  her  in  her  wonderful  way  preach  "  The 
Lord  is  my  Shepherd,"  or  "  Oh,  rest  in  the  Lord,  wait  patiently  for  him,"  could  doubt 
whether  Christ's  love  might  be  ofifered  in  the  strains  of  a  contralto  hymn. 

To  begin  with,  this  whole  plan,  Hke  ever)'thing  else  in  the  work  of  our  Master,  is  a 
matter  of  faith — of  living  faith  and  experimental  confidence.  The  man  who  attempts  to 
conduct  a  praise  service  must  believe  that  it  has  a  veritable  existence  of  its  own,  that  it  is 
a  helpful  and  sure  rewarder  of  him  who  diligently  seeks  it ;  any  misgiving  is  ruin.  It  is 
not  to  be  looked  upon  as  a  musical  entertainment,  nor  can  it  be  put  forward  as  a  make- 
shift for  a  sermon ;  it  is  nothing,  nothing  at  all,  unless  it  is  what  it  purports  to  be,  a 
sanctuar)'  service  of  adoring  and  grateful  praise  of  Almighty  God.  The  minister  must  be 
just  as  devout  in  it  as  he  would  be  at  a  communion  ;  the  choir  must  not  suffer  themselves 
to  be  beguiled  into  imagining  it  as  a  fresh  and  beautiful  opportunity  for  a  parade  or  display. 
It  is  simply  a  service  for  a  worshipful  people,  full  of  joyous  love  and  thanksgiving  to  their 
Maker. 

Hence  it  should  be  treated  as  an  instrument  of  prodigious  energy  either  for  good  or  for 
evil.  It  must  be  used,  therefore,  with  supreme  care  lest  it  should  be  retorted  into  a  danger 
and  a  discouragement,  reacting  upon  the  congregation  like  an  Afghan's  boomerang.  There 
is  not  in  all  our  treasury  of  resources  a  more  potent  force  than  this  of  real  honest  singing 
of  God's  praises  by  masses  of  men,  women,  and  children. 

It  will  be  easier  for  the  men  who  write  annotations  in  the  years  to  come  than  it  has 
been  for  us  who  have  attempted  it  just  now.  Often  we  have  been  compelled  to  study  biog- 
raphies and  investigate  antiquated  collections  and  search  many  works  of  general  literature 
merely  to  find  a  few  reminiscences  of  the  venerable  saints  who  sang  the  hymns  of  hope 
and  faith  which  our  fathers  accepted,  and  discover  now  and  then  a  picture  someone 
drew  of  those  who  added  the  versions  of  the  Psalms  in  an  English  dress  more  or  less  met- 
rical. But  the  religious  periodicals,  as  well  as  the  big-volume  makers  have  cleared  up  now 
almost  all  the  mysteries  that  the  former  ages  will  ever  be  expected  to  yield. 

Two  or  three  enthusiastic  and  very  dear  friends  have  been  steadily  for  the  last  eighteen 
months  engaged  with  me  in  finishing  this  book.  I  sincerely  hope  the  perusal  of  it  will 
recall  the  hours  we  have  spent  in  the  study  together.  The  amount  of  detail  has  made  the 
mechanical  part  of  our  work  nothing  less  than  toilsome  drudgery;  but  I  candidly  admit  for 
myself  that  I  complete  the  task  with  a  certain  sort  of  pensive  regret,  so  pleasant  have 
been  the  lines  along  which  it  has  led.  I  humbly  and  prayerfully  commend  the-e  sugges- 
tions! have  offered  to  my  fellow-singers  in  the  hope  that  they  may  be  of  real  help. 

New  York  City,  id  East  130th  St.  Charles  Seymour  Robinson. 


ANNOTATIONS 


UPON  THE  HYMNS  OF 


LAUDES    DOMINI. 


I  Praise  to  Christ.  P.  M. 

When  morning  gilds  tlie  skies, 
My  heart  awaking  cries, 

May  Jesus  Christ  be  praised: 
Alike  at  work  and  prayer 
To  Jesus  I  repair; 

May  Jesus  Christ  be  praised. 

2  To  thee,  O  God  above, 
I  cry  with  glowing  love. 

May  Jesus  Christ  be  praised: 
This  song  of  sacred  joy, 
It  never  seems  to  cloy ; 

May  Jesus  Christ  be  praised. 

3  Does  sadness  fill  my  mind, 
A  solace  here  I  find  ; 

May  Jesus  Christ  be  praised: 
Or  fades  my  earthly  bliss. 
My  comfort  still  is  this. 

May  Jesus  Christ  be  praised. 

4  When  evil  thoughts  molest, 
With  this  I  shield  my  breast ; 

May  Jesus  Christ  be  praised: 
The  powers  of  darkness  fear 
When  this  sweet  chant  I  hear : 

May  Jesus  Christ  be  praised. 

5  When  sleep  her  balm  denies. 
My  silent  spirit  sighs, 

May  Jesus  Christ  be  praised: 
The  night  becomes  as  day, 
When  from  the  heart  we  say. 

May  Jesus  Christ  be  praised. 

6  Be  this,  while  life  is  mine. 
My  canticle  divine: 

May  Jesus  Christ  be  praised: 
Be  this  the  eternal  song,. 
Through  all  the  ages  long. 

May  Jesus  Christ  be  praised. 

Rev.  Edward  Caswall  was  reared  within 
the  pale  of  the  Established  Church  of  Eng- 
land, but  he  died  in  the  communion  of  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church,  having  been  re- 
ceived in  1847.  He  was  born  July  15,  1814, 
at  Yately,  in  Hampshire,  entered  Oxford  Uni- 
versity in  1832,  and  was  graduated  in  1836. 
He  was  ordained  in  1839,  and  next  year  be- 
came perpetual  curate  of  Stratford-sub-Castle, 
near  Salisbury.  He  seceded  from  the  English 
Church  in  1 846,  and  became  a  priest  in  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church,  and  was  placed  in 
the  Congregation  of  the  Oratory,  which  had 


been  instituted  in  Birmingham  by  Cardinal 
Newman.  There  he  remained  until  his  death, 
January  2,  1878. 

The  present  hymn  is  found  in  Hymns  and 
Poems,  1873,  and  is  announced  as  translated 
from  the  German :  Beim  fruheti  Morgenlicht. 
It  is  a  great  favorite  with  the  singers  at  St. 
Paul's  Cathedral  in  London.  Usually  it  is 
printed  for  distribution  in  the  audience  on  a 
separate  sheet.  It  was  from  one  of  these 
slips  that  the  verses  were  copied  for  Laudes 
Domini.  The  spirited  refrain  at  the  end  of 
each  triplet  of  lines  gave  a  suggestion  for  a 
title  to  the  collection.  The  compiler  of  this 
and  other  hymn-books,  little  and  large,  would 
like  to  say,  once  for  all,  that  the  aim  of  his 
entire  work  could  not  better  be  indicated  than 
it  is  in  the  single  line,  "  May  Jesus  Christ  be 
praised."  For  this  book  aims  to  be  peculiar 
in  presenting  hymns  which  are  neither  didac- 
tic nor  hortatory,  but  which  are  addressed 
more  directly  and  persistently  as  praises  to 
the  one  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Pliny  gave  it  as 
the  singular  characteristic  of  Christians  in  his 
day  that  they  were  wont  to  assemble  early  in 
the  morning  and  evening,  and  sing  alterna- 
tively among  themselves  a  hymn  of  praise  to 
Christ  as  God — carmen  Christo  quasi  Deo 
dicere  secum  invicem. 

2  Morning  Hymn.  L.  M. 

O  Christ  !  with  each  returning  morn 
Thine  image  to  our  hearts  be  borne  ; 
And  may  we  ever  clearly  see 
Our  God  and  Saviour,  Lord,  in  thee ! 

2  All  hallowed  be  our  walk  this  day  ; 
May  meekness  form  our  early  ray. 
And  faithful  love  our  noontide  light, 
And  hope  our  sunset,  calm  and  bright. 

3  May  grace  each  idle  thought  control. 
And  sanctify  our  wayward  soul ; 

May  guile  depart,  and  malice  cease, 
And  all  within  be  joy  and  peace. 

4  Our  daily  course,  O  Jesus,  bless ; 
Make  plain  the  way  of  holiness  : 
From  sudden  falls  our  feet  defend. 
And  cheer  at  last  our  journey's  end. 


OPENING  OF  SERVICE. 


Rev.  John  Chandler  was  an  English  cler- 
gy-man, born  in  Witley,  Surrey,  June  i6,  1806, 
educated  at  Corpus  Christi  College,  Oxford, 
graduating  in  1827.  He  was  ordained  in  the 
Established  Church  in  1831,  and  became  the 
successor  of  his  father  as  Vicar  of  Witley ; 
subsequently  he  was  appointed  rural  dean. 
He  seems  to  have  spent  his  entire  life  in  that 
charge,  a  quiet  and  useful  man.  He  died  at 
Putney,  July  i,  1876.  In  1837  he  issued  a 
small  book  of  great  excellence  called  Hymns 
of  the  Priinitive  Church.  This  contained  a 
hundred  and  eight  Latin  hymns  with  render- 
ings into  English  made  by  himself.  These 
translations  have  had  and  have  merited  a  wide 
and  lasting  popularity.  Many  of  them  have 
gone  into  most  of  the  modern  hymnals  in 
Great  Britain  and  America.  The  one  before 
us  now  is  a  translation  of  the  Sple7idor  pa- 
terna  gloricB  of  Ambrose,  the  famous  bishop 
of  Milan. 

3  "Early  Vows."  L.  M. 

My  opening  eyes  with  rapture  see 

The  dawn  of  thy  returning  day  ; 
My  thoughts,  O  God ,  ascend  to  thee, 

While  thus  my  early  vows  I  pay. 

2  Oh,  bid  this  trifling  world  retire, 
And  drive  each  carnal  thought  away  ; 

Nor  let  me  feel  one  vain  desire — 
One  sinful  thought  through  all  the  day. 

3  Then,  to  thy  courts  when  I  repair, 
My  soul  shall  rise  on  joyful  wing. 

The  wonders  of  thy  love  declare, 
And  join  the  strains  which  angels  sing. 

James  Hutton  was  an  English  layman, 
bom  in  London,  September  3,  171 5.  He  was 
a  cousin  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  and  a  son  of  a 
clergyTnan  of  piety  and  thoughtfulness,  who 
gave  him  an  excellent  education,  and  then  ap- 
prenticed him  to  a  bookseller.  He  chose  this 
business  for  himself  afterward,  and  used  to 
hold  religious  meetings  in  his  store  for  some 
years.  In  1739  he  visited  Herrnhut,  and  com- 
ing under  the  influence  of  Count  von  Zinzen- 
dorf,  became  a  Moravian.  He  was  zealous 
and  remained  faithful  in  that  connection  till 
he  died,  May  3,  1795,  and  was  buried  at  Chel- 
sea, in  England.  He  printed  the  second 
Hand-book  for  the  Moravians  in  1741,  and 
their  Manual  of  Doctrine  in  1742.  This 
hymn  is  said  to  have  been  given  in  the  appen- 
dix to  a  volume  published  by  Daniel  Benham 
in  1856,  entitled  Memoirs  of  fames  Hutton, 
Cotttprising  the  Annals  of  his  Life  and  Con- 
nection  with  the  United  Brethren. 


2  Come,  fill  our  hearts  with  inward  strength. 
Make  our  enlarged  souls  possess, 

And  learn  the  height,  and  breadth,  and  length 
Of  thine  eternal  love  and  grace. 

3  Now  to  the  God  whose  power  can  do 
More  than  our  thoughts  and  wishes  know, 

Be  everlasting  honors  done. 
By  all  the  Church,  through  Christ  his  Son. 


Invocation. 

Come,  gracious  Lord,  descend  and  dwell 
By  faith  and  love  in  every  breast ; 

Then  shall  we  know,  and  taste,  and  feel 
The  joys  that  cannot  be  expressed. 


L.  M. 


REV.    ISAAC  WATTS,  D.  D. 

Rev.  Isaac  Watts,  D.  D.,  was  descended 
on  his  mother's  side  from  a  Huguenot  family, 
W'ho  by  the  persecutions  were  driven  from 
France  into  England  in  the  early  part  of 
Queen  Elizabeth's  reign.  There  seems  to 
have  been  trouble  all  along  the  line,  for  he 
himself  has  left  some  memoranda  concerning 
the  wild  times  of  Charles  II.  He  writes  that 
his  father,  who  became  a  deacon  in  the  Inde- 
pendent or  Congregational  Church  of  South- 
ampton, was,  in  1683,  "persecuted  and  im- 
prisoned for  non-conformity  six  months  ;  and 
was  after  that  forced  to  leave  his  family  and 
live  privately  for  two  years."  Indeed,  this 
was  not  his  first  incarceration  for  conscience's 
sake.  His  pastor  also  had  been  ejected  as 
far  back  as  1662,  and  on  the  recall  of  the 
Declaration  of  Indulgence,  in  1674,  was  sub- 
jected to  still  greater  violence.  The  two 
men,  preacher  and  deacon  together,  seem  to 
have  been  put  in  confinement  at  the  same 
time  :  and  it  is  said  that  Isaac  Watts'  mother, 
with  her  babe  in  her  arms,  sat  more  than 
once  in  her  distress  on  the  stone  at  the  gate 
of  the  prison. 

The  child  was  born  July  17,  1674,  and  not 
till  William  of  Orange  came  over  and  revolu- 


OPENING  OF  SERVICE. 


lionized  England  did  better  days  for  him 
commence.  He  continued  his  studies  in 
London,  but  passed  many  of  his  intervening 
years  in  the  old  parish  at  Southampton.  He 
wrote  rhymes  for  his  mother's  delectation 
when  he  was  seven,  but  not  until  he  reached 
a  promising  precocity  of  eighteen  did  he  dis- 
play his  power.  Whether  the  congregation 
used  the  rough  verses  of  Sternhold  and  Hop- 
kins, or  whether  they  were  afflicted  by  those 
(no  better)  of  Barton,  it  cannot  be  settled 
now  :  but  one  time  he  startled  the  grave  offi- 
cers of  the  parish  by  expressing  his  disgust 
with  the  performance.  "  Give  us  something 
which  will  be  better,  young  man !"  they  re- 
plied. He  took  up  the  challenge  at  once,  and 
offered  his  lirst  hymn ;  this  the  people  sang  at 
the  close  of  the  evening  service.  It  was  the 
one  beginning,  "  Behold  the  glories  of  the 
Lamb."  In  most  of  the  collections  of  his 
poems  this  can  be  found ;  but  when  a  choice 
had  to  be  made  for  modern  uses,  the  prefer- 
ence soon  was  given  to  those  which  were  the 
fruit  of  his  maturer  experience. 

However,  his  work  was  cordially  accepted ; 
and  each  evening  for  a  long  time  he  presented 
a  fresh  composition,  until  he  had  given  them 
at  last  two  hundred  and  twenty-two  in  all ; 
these  they  printed  in  a  portable  form  for  local 
use. 

It  is  admitted  now  that  this  one  writer  has 
done  more  for  the  Church  in  this  line  of 
Christian  usefulness  than  any  other.  He 
gave  a  new  impulse  to  the  service  of  God's 
praise,  and  worthily  bears  the  name  of  the 
"  Father  of  English  Hymnody." 

Dr.  Watts'  hymns  were  gathered,  in  1707, 
into  a  volume  divided  into  three  books  ac- 
cording to  subject.  The  one  now  before  us 
is  No.  135  of  Book  I.:  "Come,  dearest  Lord, 
descend  and  dwell."  He  entitled  it,  "  The 
love  of  Christ  shed  abroad  in  the  heart.  Eph. 
3:16." 


"  A  Nobler  Rest."  L.  M. 

Thine  earthly  Sabbaths,  Lord,  we  love, 
But  there 's  a  nobler  rest  above ; 
To  that  our  longing  souls  aspire, 
With  cheerful  hope  and  strong  desire. 

2  No  more  fatigue,  no  more  distress, 
Nor  sin  nor  death  shall  reach  the  place ; 
No  groans  shall  mingle  with  the  songs 
That  warble  from  immortal  tongues. 

3  No  rude  alarms  of  raging  foes, 
No  cares  to  break  the  long  repose, 
No  midnight  shade,  no  clouded  sun, 
But  sacred,  high,  eternal  noon. 

4  O  long-expected  day,  begin  ! 
Dawn  on  these  realms  of  woe  and  sin ; 
Fain  would  we  leave  this  weary  road, 
And  sleep  in  death  to  rest  with  God. 


KEV.    PHILIP   DOUDRIDGK,  D.  D. 

Any  good  encyclopedia  would  tell  us  that 
Rev.  Philip  Doddridge,  D.  D.,  was  an  English 
clergyman  belonging  to  the  Independent  or 
Congregational  branch  of  the  Church.  He 
was  the  son  of  a  merchant,  and  the  last  one 
of  a  large  family  of  twenty  children.  He  was 
born  in  London,  June  26,  1702  ;  his  constitu- 
tion was  feeble  from  his  infancy.  His  pa- 
rents were  religious  people,  and  early  turned 
the  lad's  attention  to  an  education  for  the 
ministry.  But  they  both  died  while  yet  he  was 
young,  and  his  care  devolved  upon  friends, 
who  showed  much  kindness  to  the  afflicted 
orphan.  At  twenty  years  of  age  he  was  or- 
dained, and  became  the  pastor  of  the  small 
parish  of  Kibworth.  In  1729  he  was  called 
to  open  an  academy  at  Northampton  for  the 
purpose  of  training  young  men  for  the  minis- 
try. He  remained  at  this  work  for  some 
twenty  years.  He  was  one  of  the  most  volu- 
minous writers  of  religious  literature  in  that 
period.  His  Faintly  Expositor,  a  commen- 
tary upon  the  New  Testament,  his  Rise  and 
Progress  of  Religion  in  the  Soul,  and  his 
Life  of  Colonel  Gardiner,  are  still  popular, 
and  famous  as  books  of  the  highest  worth. 
But  the  rapid  development  of  consumptive 
tendencies  in  his  constitution  rendered  it  ne- 
cessary for  him  to  seek  health  in  a  milder  cli- 
mate. He  started  for  Portugal,  and  died  at 
Lisbon,  October  26,  175 1  ;  he  now  lies  buried 
in  the  English  graveyard  in  that  foreign  city 
by  the  sea. 

This  hymn,  written  by  Dr.  Philip  Dod- 
dridge to  be  sung  at  the  close  of  a  sermon  he 


8 


OPENING  OF  SERVICE. 


preached  June  2,  1736,  from  the  text,  Heb. 
4:9,  "  There  remaineth  therefore  a  rest  to  the 
people  of  God,"  is  given  in  Hymns  Founded 
on  various  Texts  in  the  Holy  Scriptures, 
1755.  As  it  was  first  sent  to  the  public  the 
of>ening  stanza,  which,  indeed,  is  very  tame 
comparatively,  commenced,  "  Lord  of  the  Sab- 
bath, hear  our  vows."  This  has  been  dropped 
in  most  of  the  modern  collections.  A  zeal  or 
a  freak  of  restoration,  however,  bids  fair  to 
spoil  the  favorite  lyric,  which  owes  much  of 
its  excellence  to  the  wise  pruning  it  has  had 
from  editors  along  the  years.  Admitting  and 
enduring  all  this  talk  just  at  the  present  so 
popular  about  "  the  tinkering  of  hymns,"  we 
still  would  like  to  ask  whether  people  do  ac- 
tually prefer  in  the  first  stanza  to  say,  "  The 
songs  which  from  the  Desert  rise  ":  and  in  the 
second  stanza  to  say,  "With  ardent  Pangs  of 
strong  desire  ":  and  in  the  third  stanza  to  say, 
"  No  Groans  to  mingle  with  the  songs." 
These  can  all  be  found,  and  other  felicities 
like  them,  in  the  original  draft  as  printed  in  Sir 
Roundell  Palmer's  Book  of  Praise,  page  335. 
A  very  pathetic  entry  is  to  be  seen  in  the 
Diary  of  Rev.  Dr.  Gardiner  Spring.  He  had 
been  in  some  heavy  trouble  for  a  long  time, 
and  had  not  kept  up  his  music  in  the  house- 
hold ;  and  now,  recording  how  he  had  opened 
his  piano  for  the  first  time  in  some  weeks,  he 
writes :  "  I  felt  that,  while  all  God's  works 
praise  him,  my  tongue  also  should  be  vocal 
with  his  praise.  How  beautiful  is  this  green 
earth  on  a  Sabbath  day !  I  could  only  give 
utterance  to  the  words  : 

"'  Thine  earthly  Sabbaths,  Lord,  we  love: 
But  there  's  a  nobler  rest  above.'  " 

6  Sabbath  Eve.  L.  M. 

Sweet  is  the  light  of  Sabbath  eve. 
And  soft  the  sunbeams  lingering  there ; 

For  these  blest  hours  the  world  I  leave, 
Wafted  on  wings  of  faith  and  prayer. 

2  The  time  how  lovely  and  how  still  I 
Peace  shines  and  smiles  on  all  below ; 

The  plain,  the  stream,  the  wood,  the  hill, 
All  fair  with  evening's  setting  glow. 

3  Season  of  rest  I  the  tranquil  soul 
Feels  the  sweet  calm  and  melts  to  love, 

And  while  these  sacred  moments  roll, 
Faith  sees  the  smiling  heaven  above. 

4  Nor  will  our  days  of  toil  be  long ; 
Our  pilgrimage  will  soon  be  trod; 

And  we  snail  join  the  ceaseless  song, 
The  endless  Sabbath  of  our  God. 

James  Edmeston  was  born  at  Wapping,  in 
London,  September  10,  1791.  He  was  edu- 
cated at  Hackney,  where  his  parents  resided. 
He  was  the  grandson  of  Rev.  Samuel  Brewer, 
an  Independent  minister  in  Stepney  for  fifty 
years,  and  the  young  poet  was  brought  up  in 
that  connection.    In  his  sixteenth  year  he  was 


articled  to  an  architect,  and  chose  this  for  his 
profession.  He  afterwards  joined  the  Estab- 
lished Church ;  in  a  letter,  written  shortly  be- 
fore his  death,  he  says :  "  From  early  years 
I  had  a  strong  leaning  towards  the  Church  of 
England,  the  services  of  which  I  always  found 
more  congenial  to  my  own  feelings." 

He  was  singularly  happy  and  voluminous 
in  his  production  of  religious  poetry-.  He  is 
said  to  have  composed  more  than  two  thou- 
sand hymns.  Of  these,  many  have  been  per- 
petuated in  the  modem  collections.  This  one 
is  to  be  found  in  the  Cottage  Minstrel,  1821, 
and  is  there  entitled,  "  The  Cottager's  Reflec- 
tions upon  the  Sabbath  Evening."  He  issued 
his  first  volume  in  1817.  Others  followed; 
the  Sacred  Lyrics  appeared  in  1821  ;  this 
contained  most  of  his  best  known  produc- 
tions. He  died  in  Homerton,  a  suburb  of 
London,  January  7,  1867,  being  then  seventy- 
six  years  of  age. 

The  evening  of  the  Lord's  Day  must  have 
been  a  favorite  part  of  his  life,  for  many  of 
his  poems  refer  to  it.  He  seemed  to  feel  the 
glory  of  it,  the  rest  of  it,  the  prophecy  of  it. 
He  never  shows  his  religious  experience  more 
delightfully  or  more  helpfully  than  when  he  is 
singing  of  Sabbath  night  and  "  the  morrow's 
quick  returning  light,"  which  "  must  call  us 
to  the  world  again."  Yet  his  whole  heart  is 
filled  with  the  dear  hope  of  a  dawn  where  "  a 
sun  that  never  sets  shall  rise." 

7  "  Gates  of  Heaven."  L.  M. 

How  sweet  to  leave  the  world  awhile, 
And  seek  the  presence  of  our  Lord  ! 

Dear  Saviour,  on  thy  people  smile, 
And  come,  according  to  thy  word. 

2  From  busy  scenes  we  now  retreat, 
That  we  may  here  converse  with  thee: 

Ah,  Lord  !  behold  us  at  thy  feet ; 
Let  this  the  "  gate  of  heaven  "  be. 

3  "  Chief  often  thousand  !"  now  appear, 
That  we  by  faith  may  see  thy  face: 

Oh,  speak,  that  we  thy  voice  may  hear, 
And  let  thy  presence  fill  this  place. 

Rev.  Thomas  Kelly  was  the  son  of  Right 
Honorable  Baron  Kelly,  and  was  born  near 
Athoy,  in  Queens  County,  Ireland,  July  13, 
1769.  He  graduated  at  Dublin  University, 
and  at  first  took  up  the  study  of  law.  Even- 
tually he  changed  the  plan  of  his  professional 
life,  and  in  1792  he  was  ordained  a  clergyman 
in  the  Established  Church.  But  he  was  too 
zealous  for  anything  like  tame  routine,  and 
some  considered  him  almost  a  fanatic.  Row- 
land Hill  made  his  acquaintance  and  before 
long  they  were  both  silenced  because  their 
preaching  was  too  direct  and  spiritual  for 
those  times.  The  Archbishop  of  Dublin  closed 
all  the  pulpits  of  his  diocese  to  these  two  men. 
That  made  Thomas  Kelly  an   Independent. 


OPENING  OF  SERVICE. 


He  set  up  chapels  as  he  pleased.  He  was  a 
musician  and  a  poet,  and  he  consecrated  all 
his  gifts  to  his  divine  Lord. 

He  married  at  thirty  years  of  age  a  lady  of 
like  heart,  views  and  purpose.  He  became 
very  wealthy  and  grew  to  be  exceedingly 
popular  and  greatly  useful.  So  he  labored  in 
Dublin  more  than  sixty  years.  He  died  of  a 
stroke  of  paralysis  in  1855,  May  14.  His  last 
words  were,  "  The  Lord  is  my  everyt hitig ;" 
for  he  heard  some  one  repeating  to  him,  "  The 
Lord  is  my  shepherd,"  and  his  strength  was 
sufficient  for  the  full   response. 

In  1 804  he  published  a  volume  of  ninety- 
six  Hymns  on  Various  Passages  of  Scrip- 
ture, afterwards  enlarged.  The  hymn  before 
us  appeared  in  181 5.  It  had  six  stanzas.  The 
author  evidently  wrote  it  with  Jacob's  vision 
at  Bethel  in  his  mind.  Gen.  28:17;  but  he 
affixed  to  it  as  his  title,  Matt.  18  :  20. 

8  Giver  of  Rest.  L.  M. 

Come,  Holy  Spirit!  calm  my  mind. 
And  fit  me  to  approach  my  God  ; 

Remove  each  vain,  each  worldly  thought, 
And  lead  me  to  thy  blest  abode. 

2  Hast  thou  imparted  to  my  soul 
A  living  spark  of  holy  fire? 

Oh,  kindle  now  the  sacred  flame ; 
Make  me  to  burn  with  pure  desire. 

3  A  brighter  faith  and  hope  impart, 
And  let  me  now  my  Saviour  see  ; 

Oh,  soothe  and  cheer  my  burdened  heart. 
And  bid  my  spirit  rest  in  thee. 

It  is  somewhat  singular  that  no  one  has 
been  able  to  obtain  even  the  slightest  authen- 
tic information  concerning  the  author  of  this 
very  acceptable  hymn,  which  has  been  in- 
cluded in  almost  all  the  prominent  denomina- 
tional collections  for  many  years.  It  has  been 
traced  back  to  a  Collection  of  Psalms  and 
Hymns  for  the  use  of  the  Lock  Chapel,  Lon- 
don. Everything  comes  on  hearsay,  and  all 
there  is  of  it  is  this  :  he  was  probably  an  Eng- 
lish layman,  his  whole  name  was  John  Stew- 
art, and  he  made  the  hymn,  or  lived,  in  1803. 

9 


Invocation. 


L.  M. 


Far  from  my  thoughts,  vain  world,  begone ! 

Let  my  religious  hours  alone: 

Fain  would  mine  eyes  my  Saviour  see: 

1  wait  a  visit,  Lord',  from  thee. 

2  My  heart  grows  warm  with  holy  fire. 
And  kindles  with  a  pure  desire: 
Come,  my  dear  Jesus  !  from  above. 
And  feed  my  soul  with  heavenly  love. 

3  Blest  Saviour  !  what  delicious  fare, 
How  sweet  thine  enteriainments  are  1 
Never  did  angels  taste,  above. 
Redeeming  grace  and  dying  love. 

4  Hail,  great  Immanuel,  all-divine  1 
In  thee  thy  Father's  glories  shine: 
Thou  brightest,  sweetest,  fairest  One 
That  eyes  have  seen,  or  angels  known  ! 


In  Book  II.  of  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  Hymns 
this  will  be  found  as  No.  1 5.  It  consists  of 
six  stanzas,  and  is  entitled,  "  The  Enioyment 
of  Christ;  or  Delight  in  Worship."  In  many 
parts  of  Switzerland  a  bell  from  the  principal 
tower  tolls  daily  a  few  minutes  before  noon ; 
ere  the  hour  strikes  it  ceases.  It  peals  over 
the  plain  and  over  the  green  valleys,  and 
echoes  in  the  recesses  of  the  surrounding 
mountains.  Men  leave  their  labor  as  they 
listen.  The  stillness  that  follows  is  most 
suggestive.  As  its  call  sweeps  over  the  busy 
harvest  field  the  reaper  drops  his  sickle, 
though  half  full  of  golden  grain,  and  throws 
himself  down  to  rest  beneath  the  shade ;  the 
hand  that  held  the  trowel  leaves  it  where  it 
lies.  All  seem  glad  of  the  cessation  of  toil, 
thankful  for  the  rest  and  shade  and  refresh- 
ment offered  them  in  the  heat  and  hurry  of 
the  day.  Such  is  the  office  and  such  the 
same  sweet  invitation  of  the  Sabbath-bell  in 
this  land  of  light  and  peace.  With  its  clear 
ringing  voice  it  speaks  in  the  name  of  the 
Lord  of  the  Sabbath,  "  Come  unto  me,  and  I 
will  give  you  rest." 

10  Psalm  %\.  L.  M. 

How  pleasant,  how  divinely  fair, 
O  Lord  of  hosts  !  thy  dwellings  are  ! 
With  long  desire  my  spirit  faints 
To  meet  the  assemblies  of  thy  saints. 

2  My  flesh  would  rest  in  thine  abode, 
My  panting  heart  cries  out  for  God  ; 
My  God  !  my  King !  why  should  I  be 
So  far  from  all  my  joys,  and  thee? 

3  Blest  are  the  saints  who  sit  on  high, 
Around  thy  thione  of  Majesty  ; 

Thy  brightest  glories  shine  above, 
And  all  their  work  is  praise  and  love. 

4  Blest  are  the  souls  who  find  a  place 
Within  the  temple  of  thy  grace ; 
There  they  behold  thy  gentler  rays, 
And  seek  thy  face,  and  learn  thy  praise. 

5  Cheerful  they  walk  with  growing  strength. 
Till  all  shall  meet  in  heaven  at  length  ; 

Till  all  before  thy  face  appear, 
And  join  ia  nobler  worship  there. 

In  the  original  form  this  hymn  of  Dr.  Watts 
appears  with  seven  stanzas,  and  is  entitled 
"  The  Pleasure  of  Public  Worship."  It  is  the 
first  part  of  Psalm  84,  L.  M.  "  The  more  en- 
tirely I  can  give  my  Sabbaths  to  God,"  once 
said  the  sainted  Robert  Murray  McCheyne, 
"and  half  forget  that  I  am  not  before  the 
throne  of  the  Lamb,  with  my  harp  of  gold, 
the  happier  am  I,  and  I  feel  it  my  duty  to  be 
as  happy  as  God  intended  me  to  be." 

I  i  Psalm  84. 

Great  God  !  attend,  while  Zion  sings 
The  joy  that  from  thy  presence  springs ; 
To  spend  one  day  with  thee  on  earth 
Exceeds  a  thousand  davs  of  mirth. 


L.  M. 


OPENING  OF  SERVICE. 


2  Might  I  enjoy  the  meanest  pla^f 
Within  thy  house,  O  God  of  grace  ! 
Nor  tents  of  ease,  nor  thrones  of  power, 
Should  tempt  my  feet  to  leave  thy  door. 

3  God  is  our  sun,  he  makes  our  day  ; 
God  is  our  shield,  he  guards  our  way 
From  all  the  assaults  of  hell  and  sin, 
From  foes  without  and  foes  within. 

4  All  needful  grace  will  God  bestow. 
And  crown  that  grace  with  glory,  too ; 
He  gives  us  all  things,  and  withholds 
No  real  good  from  upright  souls. 

5.    O  God,  our  King,  whose  sovereign  sway 
rhe  glorious  hosts  of  heaven  obey. 
Display  thy  grace,  exert  thy  power, 
Till  all  on  earth  thy  name  adore ! 

We  find  here  the  second  part  of  Dr.  Isaac 
Watts'  version  of  Psalm  84,  L.  M.  It  con- 
sists of  five  stanzas,  and  is  entitled  "  God  in 
his  Church,  or  Grace  and  Glory."  It  was  in 
commenting  upon  that  single  expression,  "  one 
day  in  thy  courts  is  better  than  a  thousand," 
that  the  good  Bishop  Home  exclaimed :  "  If 
this  be  the  case  upon  earth,  how  much  more 
in  heaven  !  Oh,  come  that  one  glorious  day 
whose  sun  shall  never  go  down,  nor  any  cloud 
obscure  the  luster  of  his  beams ;  that  day 
when  the  temple  of  God  shall  be  opened  in 
heaven,  and  we  shall  be  admitted  to  serve  him 
for  ever  therein !" 

12  "Return,  my  Soul!"  L.  M. 

Another  six  days'  work  is  done. 
Another  Sabbath  is  begun  ; 
Return,  my  soul!  enjoy  thy  rest, 
Improve  the  day  thy  God  hath  blessed. 

2  Oh,  that  our  thoughts  and  thanks  may  rise 
As  grateful  incense  to  the  skies  ; 

And  draw  from  heaven  that  sweet  repose, 
Which  none  but  he  that  feels  it  knows. 

3  This  heavenly  calm,  within  the  breast, 
Is  the  dear  pledge  of  glorious  rest 
Which  for  the  church  of  God  remains — 
The  end  of  cares,  the  end  of  pains. 

4  In  holy  duties  let  the  day, 
In  holy  pleasures,  pass  away ; 
How  sweet  a  Sabbath  thus  to  spend, 
In  hope  of  one  that  ne'er  shall  end. 

Rev.  Joseph  Stennett,  the  author  of  this 
Sabbath  hymn,  was  born  at  Abingdon,  Berks, 
England,  in  1663.  He  was  the  second  of  that 
race  which  for  upward  of  a  century  of  useful- 
ness enriched  the  ministrj^  of  the  Baptist 
Church  in  England.  Scholarship  and  excel- 
lent ability,  piety  and  zeal,  have  always  been 
accredited  to  him  as  a  preacher  and  a  Chris- 
tian. He  was  a  teacher  for  some  years  in 
London.  In  1688  he  married  Susanna,  daugh- 
ter of  George  Guill,  a  French  Protestant 
refugee  ;  and  shortly  after  this,  believing  him- 
self called  to  the  ministry,  he  was  ordained  as 
pastor  of  the  Seventh-Day  Baptist  Church, 
then  worshiping  in  Devonshire  Square,  Lon- 
don, of  which  his  father  had  once  been  the 
minister.     Of  this  same  congregation  he  re- 


mained pastor  until  his  death,  though  some- 
times his  services  were  in  demand  for  preach- 
ing elsewhere.  He  skillfully  utilized  his  time 
by  employing  the  first  day  of  the  week  for  his 
absences  from  home  and  his  services  in  other 
pulpits.  He  was  widely  popular  in  his  work, 
and  continued  in  the  confidence  of  all  who 
knew  him  till  his  death,  which  took  place  July 
4,  1 71 3.  Among  his  last  words  were:  "  I  re- 
joice in  the  God  of  my  salvation,  who  is  my 
strength  and  my  God." 

It  is  a  little  difficult  to  keep  the  genealogy 
of  this  Stennett  family  perfectly  clear,  espe- 
cially as  more  than  one  of  the  name  wrote 
hymns  for  their  own  comfort  and  handed 
them  down  for  singing  among  people  who 
took  very  little  pains  to  keep  literary  titles  dis- 
tinct. There  is  no  great  importance  in  the 
matter ;  but  it  can  be  remembered  as  a  fact, 
by  any  who  care  to  know,  that  Edward  Sten- 
nett began  the  line.  He  was  a  dissenting 
minister  who  with  other  Non-conformists  suf- 
fered persecution,  and  for  a  short  time  im- 
prisonment because  of  their  enthusiastic  espou- 
sal of  the  cause  of  the  Commonwealth.  After 
the  Revolution  he  removed  to  Wallingford. 
Joseph  was  his  son,  and  he  had  a  son  Joseph 
in  his  turn  ;  and  that  son  had  a  son  Samuel, 
who  had  a  son  Joseph  ;  and  all  the  men  were 
ministers  ;  then  this  remarkable  line  ceased. 

1 3  Psalm  92.  L.  M. 

Sweet  is  the  work,  my  God,  my  King, 
To  praise  thy  name,  give  thanks  and  sing ; 
To  show  thy  love  by  morning  light, 
And  talk  of  all  thy  truth  at  night. 

2  Sweet  is  the  day  of  sacred  rest ; 
No  mortal  care  shall  seize  my  breast ; 
Oh,  may  my  heart  in  tune  be  found. 
Like  David's  harp  of  solemn  sound! 

3  My  heart  shall  triumph  in  my  Lord, 
And  bless  his  works,  and  bless  his  word  : 
Thy  works  of  grace,  how  bright  they  shine  ! 
How  deep  thy  counsels !  how  divine ! 

4  Lord,  I  shall  share  a  glorious  part, 
When  grace  hath  well  refined  my  heart, 
And  fresh  supplies  of  joy  are  shed, 
Like  holy  oil  to  cheer  my  head. 

5  Then  shall  I  see,  and  hear,  and  know 
All  I  desired  or  wished  below  ; 

And  every  power  find  sweet  employ, 
In  that  eternal  world  of  joy. 

In  the  version  of  the  Psalms  by  Dr.  Watts, 
this  appears  in  seven  stanzas  as  the  first  part, 
L.  M.,  of  Psalm  92.  It  is  entitled,  "  A  Psalm 
for  the  Lord's  Day."  In  one  of  the  gp-eatest 
English  coal  mines  there  is  a  constant  forma- 
tion of  limestone,  caused  by  the  trickling  of 
water  through  the  rocks.  This  persistent 
dripping  contains  many  minute  particles  of 
lime,  and  these  are  deposited  in  the  open 
spaces,  and  as  the  water  runs  off  are  soon 
settled  down  into  solid  limestone.    This  would 


OPENING  OF  SERVICE. 


II 


be  as  pure  as  the  whitest  marble  but  for  the 
black  dust  which  rises  from  the  coal  while 
the  miners  are  at  work ;  that  dust  is  mixed 
with  the  soft  mass  and  discolors  its  whole 
substance.  On  Sunday  no  work  is  done ;  of 
course  no  dust  is  raised.  So  there  is  one 
layer  of  pure  white  among  the  seven.  And 
that  is  the  result  all  over  the  mine  in  each  of 
the  extensive  galleries.  The  miners  have 
given  a  name  of  their  own  to  this  peculiar 
conformation ;  they  call  it  the  "■Sunday-stone." 
For  it  has  six  black  streaks  in  it,  separated  by 
thin  white  lines  to  mark  the  short  rests  of  the 
nights ;  and  then  it  has  one  large  white  streak 
in  it  brighter  and  cleaner  than  ail  the  rest. 
It  seems  like  a  constant  tally  of  the  days.  Is 
there  an  eternal  tally  of  God's  Sabbaths,  auto- 
nomical,  self-reckoning,  which  we  all  are  at 
one  time  to  meet  ? 

14  Psalm  103.  L.  M. 

Blhss,  O  my  soul !  the  living  God, 
Call  home  thy  thoughts  that  roam  abroad  ; 
Let  all  the  powers  within  me  join 
In  work  and  worship  so  divine. 

3  Bless,  O  my  soul !  the  God  of  grace; 
His  favors  claim  thy  highest  praise  ; 
Why  should  the  wonders  he  hath  wrought 
Be  lost  in  silence  and  forgot  ? 

3  'T  is  he,  my  soul !  who  sent  his  Son 
To  die  for  crimes  which  thou  hast  done ; 
He  owns  the  ransom,  and  forgives 

The  hourly  follies  of  our  lives. 

4  Let  the  whole  earth  his  power  confess, 
Let  the  whole  earth  adore  his  grace ; 
The  Gentile  with  the  Jew  shall  join 

In  work  and  worship  so  divine. 

This  is  the  First  Part,  L.  M„  of  Psalm  103, 
in  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  collection,  where  it  is  en- 
titled :  "  Blessing  God  for  his  goodness  to 
Soul  and  Body."  This  must  have  been  a 
favorite  theme  with  the  poet,  for  he  made  one 
version  in  this  meter  consisting  of  eight  verses, 
then  another  in  the  same  consisting  of  six 
more,  to  which  after  a  "  Pause "  he  added 
still  three ;  and  then  taking  up  short  meter 
he  made  one  version  of  six  verses,  and  an- 
other of  eight  more,  to  which  he  added  still  a 
third  of  four  verses — thirty-five  stanzas  given 
to  this  one  psalm. 

So  at  last  we  learn  the  secret  of  this  man's 
power :  it  lay  mostly  in  the  wonderful  grace 
of  gratitude  in  his  heart.  He  had  lost  his 
health  ;  he  was  an  invalid  nearly  all  of  his  life. 
He  had  passed  away  from  his  youth ;  many  of 
his  old  friends  were  gone.  He  had  no  home 
of  his  own  in  the  world  ;  he  lived  for  thirty 
years  the  guest  of  a  generous  nobleman.  He 
had  no  children ;  yet  he  wrote  Divine  and 
Moral  Songs  for  Infant  Minds,  one  of  the 
best  books  ever  made  for  little  ones  to  learn 
and  sing.     He  never  married.     The  only  wo- 


man he  ever  loved  and  expected  to  wed  jilted 
him  cruelly ;  yet  he  uttered  but  one  cry  of  his 
soul  voiced  in  the  hymn,  "  How  vain  are  all 
things  here  below,"  one  pardonable  pang  of 
self-pity  as  he  surrendered  his  life.  He  was 
small  in  figure  and  insignificant  in  person — 
less  than  five  feet  in  height ;  the  woman  said 
she  "  loved  the  jewel,  but  could  not  admire 
the  casket  that  contained  it."  And  still  this 
great  and  good  man  was  as  happy  as  a  bird ; 
he  called  upon  "  all  the  powers  within  "  him 
to  keep  on  singing  till  he  went  home  to  "  the 
land  of  pure  delight." 

"  Though  I  could  reach  from  pole  10  pole, 
And  grasp  the  ocean  in  a  span, 
I  must  be  measured  by  my  soul — 
The  mind  's  the  measure  of  the  man." 

I  5  "  Day  of  Rest:'  L.  M.  61. 

The  day  of  rest  once  more  comes  round, 

A  day  to  all  believers  dear  ; 
The  silver  trumpets  seem  to  sound 

That  call  the  tribes  of  Israel  near ; 
Ye  people  all,  obey  the  call, 

Ami  in  Jehovah's  courts  appear. 

a    Obedient  to  thy  summons,  Lord, 

We  to  thy  sanctuary  come ; 
Thy  gracious  presence  here  afford, 

And  send  thy  people  joyful  home; 
Of  thee,  our  King,  oh,  may  we  sing, 

And  none  with  such  a  theme  be  dumb. 

3    Oh,  hasten,  Lord,  the  day  when  those 
Who  know  thee  here  shall  see  thy  face : 

When  suffering  shall  for  ever  close, 
And  they  shall  reach  their  destined  place; 

Then  shall  they  rest,  supremely  blest, 
Eternal  debtors  to  thy  grace. 

This  is  No,  148  of  Thomas  Kelly's  third 
edition,  1809,  though  it  is  likely  the  composi- 
tion of  the  hymn  dates  three  years  earlier. 
Some  double  rhymes  make  it  seem  a  little 
odd,  but  it  is  only  a  plain  long  meter  of  six 
lines.  The  author  has  attached  to  it  the  text, 
Num.  10:2,  and  has  evidently  meant  it  for  a 
call  to  worship :  "  Make  thee  two  trumpets  of 
silver ;  of  a  whole  piece  shalt  thou  make  them : 
that  thou  mayest  use  them  for  the  calling  of 
the  assembly,  and  for  the  journeying  of  the 
camps." 

Rabbi  Jehudah,  one  of  the  celebrated  doc- 
tors of  the  Jewish  law,  was  wont  to  call  the 
attention  of  his  pupils  to  the  fact  that  the  Is- 
raelites broke  the  first  Sabbath,  and  therefore 
God  let  them  go  into  captivity.  He  would 
point,  in  proof  of  this,  to  the  statement  that 
the  children  of  Israel  went  out  to  gather  man- 
na on  the  holy  day,  and  that  the  very  next 
chapter  says, "  Then  came  Amalek,  and  fought 
with  Israel  in  Rephidim."  There  can  be  no 
doubt  that  the  sober  and  reverent  setting 
apart  of  one  day  in  the  seven  is  obligatory  for 
all  time.  And  it  might  well  be  expected  that, 
whenever  a  duty  so  plain  as  this  is  denied  by 
any  believer,  there  will  be  an  incursion  of 


12 


OPENING   OF   SERVICE. 


spiritual  Amalekites  upon  his  experience  which 
will  put  his  highest  hopes  in  peril. 

IQ  Morning.  L.  M. 

Awake,  my  soul,  and  with  the  sun 
Thy  daily  stage  of  duty  run  ; 
Shake  off  dull  sloth,  and  joyful  rise 
To  pay  thy  morning  sacrifice. 

2  Awake,  lift  up  thyself,  my  heart, 
And  with  the  angels  bear  thy  part, 
Who  all  night  long  unwearied  sing 
High  praises  to  the  eternal  King. 

3  Glory  to  thee,  who  safe  hast  kept. 
And  hast  refreshed  me  when  I  slept ; 
Grant,  Lord,  when  I  from  death  shall  wake, 
I  may  of  endless  life  partake. 

4  Lord,  I  my  vows  to  thee  renew : 
Scatter  my  sins  as  morning  dew  ; 

Guard  my  first  springs  of  thought  and  will, 
And  with  thyself  my  spirit  fill. 

5  Direct,  control,  suggest,  this  day. 
All  I  design,  or  do,  or  say ; 

Tliiit  all  my  powers,  with  all  their  might, 
In  tliy  sole  glory  may  unite. 


THOMAS   KEN 


Rev.  Thomas  Ken,  D.  D.,  the  author  of  this 
hymn,  was  a  bishop  in  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land ;  he  was  born  at  Berkhampstead,  Hert- 
fordshire, July,  1637,  and  died  at  Longleat, 
Somersetshire,  March  19,  171 1.  He  studied 
at  Winchester  school,  where  his  name  is  still 
seen  cut  in  one  of  the  stone  pillars ;  then  his 
college  course  was  pursued  at  Oxford  ;  he  was 
ordained  to  the  ministry  somewhere  about 


1666.  After  holding  various  preferments  he 
removed  again  to  Winchester ;  he  was  a  fel- 
low there  in  the  college,  and  in  1669  became 
prebendary  of  the  cathedral.  In  1682  he  was 
appointed  chaplain  to  Charles  II.,  and  two 
years  after  this  was  made  Bishop  of  Bath  and 
Wells.  This  advancement  was  the  more  re- 
markable because,  while  he  was  living  in 
Winchester,  the  loose  court  of  the  gay  mon- 
arch visited  the  town  and  desired  his  residence 
for  an  abiding-place  for  some  of  those  worth- 
less creatures  that  followed  in  his  train. 
"  Not  for  the  king's  kingdom !"  was  the  reply 
that  became  historic.  And,  instead  of  being 
punished,  he  was  rewarded  by  an  appoint- 
ment which  showed  that  even  the  king  re- 
spected his  virtue. 

It  was  at  Winchester  also  that  he  prepared 
a  Manual  of  Prayers  for  the  use  of  the  schol- 
ars, and  to  this  were  appended  his  Morning, 
Evening,  and  Midnight  Hymns.  These  were 
what  gave  to  George  Whitefield  his  pious  bent 
in  his  college  days.  And  these  have  come 
down  to  us  in  the  years  since  with  memories 
of  early  life  and  home  prayers,  when  the 
voices  now  silent  have  sung  at  the  family 
altar  the  unforgotten  lines. 

1 7  Psalm  145.  L.  M. 

My  God,  my  King,  thy  various  praise 
Shall  fill  the  remnant  of  my  days; 
Thy  grace  employ  my  humble  tongue 
Till  death  and  glory  raise  the  song. 

2  The  wings  of  every  hour  shall  bear 
Some  thankful  tribute  to  thine  ear  ; 

And  every  setting  sun  shall  see 
New  works  of  duty  done  for  thee. 

3  Thy  works  with  sovereign  glory  shine, 
And  speak  thy  majesty  divine: 

Let  Zion  in  her  courts  proclaim 
The  sound  and  honor  of  thy  name. 

4  But  who  can  speak  thy  wondrous  deeds  ? 
Thy  greatness  all  our  thoughts  exceeds; 
Vast  and  unsearchable  thy  ways  ; 

Vast  and  immortal  be  thy  praise. 

"  The  Greatness  of  God,"  is  the  title  affixed 
by  Dr.  Isaac  Watts  to  this  version  of  Psalm 
145  in  L.  M.  It  consists  of  six  stanzas,  from 
which  those  in  ordinary  use  have  been  chosen. 
It  is  a  wise  and  suggestive  remark  of  the  Ger- 
man preacher  Krummacher,  that  unbelief 
does  "  nothing  but  darken  and  destroy.  It 
makes  the  world  a  moral  desert,  where  no 
divine  footsteps  are  heard,  where  no  angels 
ascend  and  descend,  where  no  living  hand 
adorns  the  fields,  feeds  the  birds  of  heaven,  or 
regulates  events." 

1 8  Each  Dafs  Duties.  L.  M. 

New  every  morning  is  the  love 
Our  wakening  and  uprising  prove  ; 
Through  sleep  and  darkness  safely  brought, 
Restored  to  life,  and  power,  and  thought. 


OPENING  OF  SERVICE. 


13 


2  New  mercies,  each  returning  day, 
Hover  around  us  while  we  pray; 
New  perils  past,  new  sins  forgiven, 

New  thoughts  of  God,  new  hopes  of  heaven. 

3  If,  on  our  daily  course,  our  mind 
Be  set  to  hallow  all  we  find. 

New  treasures  still,  of  countless  price, 
God  will  provide  for  sacrifice. 

4.    The  trivial  round,  the  common  task, 
Will  furnish  all  we  need  to  ask, 
Room  to  deny  ourselves,  a  road 
To  bring  us  daily  nearer  Got!. 

S    Only,  O  Lord  !  in  thy  dear  love 
Fit  us  for  perfect  rest  above  ; 
And  help  us,  this  and  every  day. 
To  live  more  nearly  as  we  pray. 


REV.   JOHN  KEBLE. 

Rev.  John  Keble,  the  author  of  the  Chris- 
tian Year,  is  better  introduced  to  the  world 
as  a  poet.  Whatever  part  he  took  effectively 
in  the  great  Tractarian  movement  was  aug- 
mented e.xtraordinarily  by  the  exquisite  beauty 
of  his  hymns.  He  wrote  six  of  the  ninety 
small  treatises  which  were  issued,  but  it  was 
the  poetr\'  and  singing  put  together  rather 
more  than  the  logic  of  the  arguments  which 
arrested  to  any  extent  the  common  people  of 
Great  Britain.  In  the  end  Keble  chose  the 
place  of  a  village  pastor ;  he  became  the  Vicar 
of  Hursley  parish,  near  Winchester,  and  there, 
with  the  surroundings  of  rural  content  and 
peace  about  him,  pursued  the  path  of  duty  to 
the  end  of  his  life. 

He  was  the  son  of  a  clergyman,  and  was 
born  at  Fairford,  Gloucestershire,  April  25, 
1792.  He  was  educated  at  Oxford,  gradua- 
ting with  high  honors  in  his  class  in  18 10. 
In  1831  he  was  appointed  Professor  of  Poetry. 
This  last  distinction  he  had  earned,  not  only 
by  his  eminent  titness  for  the  position,  but  by 
the  success  of  his  little  volume,  the  Christian 


Year,  a  noble  work,  reaching  its  ninety-sixth 
edition  in  the  author's  lifetime.  It  was  pub- 
lished in  1827,  and  when  the  copyright  expired 
in  1873  nearly  half  a  million  copies  had  been 
sold.  As  the  market  was  then  opened,  and 
the  fame  of  the  poetr>'  had  reached  the  Ameri- 
can public  also,  the  sales  became  almost  enor- 
mous. He  issued  afterward  other  books,  but 
this  one  was  the  strongest  and  best.  Large 
numbers  of  the  poems  in  it  are  charged  with 
sentiments  which  Protestant  people  are  not 
willing  to  accept,  but  Keble  shared  with  New- 
man all  the  responsibility  of  trying  to  turn  the 
English  Church  over  to  Rome,  without  sur- 
rendering the  emoluments  of  the  establish- 
ment with  which  he  continued  in  connection, 
until  he  died  at  Bournemouth,  March  29, 1866. 
Keble  followed  the  tradition  of  almost  all  the 
English  hymnists  in  placing  a  morning  and  an 
evening  hymn  at  the  beginning  of  his  book  of 
poems.  This  piece  of  sixteen  stanzas,  from 
which  the  usual  selection  is  compiled,  is  found 
at  the  opening  of  the  Christian  Year.  The 
text  added  for  a  motto  is  quoted  from  Lam. 
3 :  22,  23  :  "  His  compassions  fail  not.  They 
are  new  every  morning." 

1 9  Christ's  Presence  Sought.  C.  M. 

Again  our  earthly  cares  we  leave 

And  to  th^  courts  repair ; 
Again  with  joyful  feet  we  come 

To  meet  our  Saviour  here. 

2  Great  Shepherd  of  thy  people,  hear ! 
Thy  presence  now  display  ; 

We  bow  within  thy  house  of  prayer ; 
Oh  !  give  us  hearts  to  pray. 

3  The  clouds  which  vail  thee  from  our  sight, 
In  pity.  Lord,  remove: 

Dispose  our  minds  to  hear  aright 
The  message  of  thy  love. 

4  The  feeling  heart,  the  melting  eye, 
The  humble  mind  bestow  ; 

And  shine  upon  us  from  on  high, 
To  make  our  graces  grow. 

5  Show  us  some  token  of  thy  love, 
Our  fainting  hope  to  raise  ; 

And  pour  thy  blessing  from  above. 
That  we  may  render  praise. 

Upon  a  marble  in  the  church  of  St.  Mary 
Woolnoth  and  St.  Mary  Woolchurch  Haw, 
Lombard  Street,  London,  one  may  read  this 
inscription : 

"  John  Newton,  Clerk,  once  an  Infidel  and 
Libertine,  a  servant  of  slaves  in  Africa,  was, 
by  the  rich  mercy  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour 
Jesus  Christ,  preserved,  restored,  pardoned, 
and  appointed  to  preach  the  faith  he  had  long 
labored  to  destroy,  Near  16  years  at  Olney  in 
Bucks ;  And  —  years  in  this  church." 

This  epitaph  was  prepared  by  himself,  the 
blank  of  which,  preceding  the  "  years,"  should 


H 


OPENING   OF   SERVICE. 


be  filled  with  "  28."  "  And  I  earnestly  de- 
sire," he  further  says,  "  that  no  other  monu- 
ment, and  no  inscription  but  to  this  purport, 
may  be  attempted  for  me." 


RKV.   JOHN   NEWTON. 


It  will  arrest  attention  on  the  instant,  this 
frank  admission  made  upon  his  tombstone 
by  the  man  whose  pen  wrote  the  line  all  of  us 
have  sung  for  years :  "  How  sweet  the  name 
of  Jesus  sounds."  Was  that  man  once  an 
infidel  and  a  libertine?  His  life  has  been 
written  by  his  most  intimate  friend,  Richard 
Cecil,  and  by  others;  our  annotations  need 
only  that  we  quote  what  his  biographers  have 
said  of  him. 

He  was  born  in  London,  July  24,  1725, 
"  old  style ;"  August  5,  as  we  now  reckon 
dates  ;  he  died  in  London,  December  21, 1807. 

His  father  was  a  sea-faring  man,  the  mas- 
ter of  a  ship  trading  chiefly  between  the  ports 
of  the  Mediterranean.  Within  a  year  of  his 
wife's  death  he  married  a  woman  who  appa- 
rently did  not  care  to  carry  out  the  instruc- 
tions of  the  former  wife.  It  was  a  relief  to 
her  to  have  the  child  out  of  the  way ;  and  he 
was  put  to  school  for  two  years,  where  he  ac- 
quired the  simplest  rudiments  and  a  little 
smattering  of  Latin.  His  main  acquisitions 
were  in  the  way  of  idle  habits  and  a  taste  for 
low  associates ;  and  by  the  time  he  was  eleven 
he  left  school  finally,  and  accompanied  his 
father  on  his  voyages  for  the  four  succeeding 
years. 

He  was  one  who  never  let  his  virtues  get 
in  the  way  of  his  enjoyments.     Dissolute  as 


he  was  even  in  his  boyhood,  he  was  not  with- 
out religious  conviction,  frequently  fasting 
and  praying  and  returning  to  the  Word  of 
God  ;  and  we  are  told  by  Cecil  that  "  he  took 
up  and  laid  aside  a  religious  profession  three 
or  four  different  times  before  he  was  sixteen 
years  of  age." 

Very  shortly  after  this,  while  in  sailor's 
garb,  walking  about  the  docks,  Newton  was 
seized  and  impressed  on  board  the  Harwich, 
and  as  war  with  France  was  at  this  time  im- 
minent, there  was  no  way  to  procure  his  re- 
lease. By  and  by,  however,  things  changed, 
and  he  started  on  his  way  homeward  over  the 
sea.  With  the  main  incidents  of  that  voyage 
we  are  probably  many  of  us  familiar — the 
terrible  storm  that  threatened  to  founder  the 
vessel,  and  which  aroused  a  still  more  dread- 
ful tempest  in  Newton's  soul ;  so  that  amid 
the  crashing  of  the  thunder  and  the  vivid 
darting  of  the  lightning  he  became  insensible 
to  all  without  in  the  recurrence  of  those  Scrip- 
tures that  sounded  as  anathemas  of  heaven 
upon  his  guilty  head ;  his  despair,  his  finding 
a  copy  of  Thomas  ^  Kempis  in  the  cabin  and 
perusing  it,  and  its  profound  impression  upon 
him;  his  determination  to  quit  his  wicked 
life — with  this  we  are  familiar. 

Yet  while  this  was  succeeded  by  an  un- 
doubted change,  it  was  not  a  thorough  re- 
newal. He  needed  a  hand  to  lead  him  from 
remorse  to  repentance,  from  reformation  to 
Christ.  Even  after  his  return  to  England 
and  his  marriage  to  Mary  Catlett  he  reem- 
barked  in  the  slave-trade,  and  made  three 
voyages  to  Guinea  to  purchase  slaves  for  the 
West  Indies.  It  was  six  years  after  that 
dreadful  storm  that  Providence  brought  him 
into  association  with  a  godly  sea  captain,  who, 
fathoming  his  condition,  led  him  to  that  self- 
renunciation  which  resulted  in  the  full  and 
unequivocal  acceptance  of  Christ. 

In  the  Olney  Hymns  this  one  is  given  as 
No.  43,  Book  III.  It  is  changed  in  many 
lines  ;  the  title  of  it  there  is  :  "  On  Opening  a 
House  of  Worship ;"  and  it  contains  seven 
stanzas  of  varying  merit.  The  main  value  of 
the  piece  consists  in  the  recognition  once  more 
of  the  necessity  of  a  due  preparation  for  wor- 
ship before  the  exercise  begins.  The  use  of  it 
for  a  dedication  service  is  thoroughly  legitimate. 

20  "  Guide  us."  C.  M. 

Now  that  the  sun  is  gleaming  bright, 

Implore  we,  bending  low, 
That  he,  the  uncreated  Light, 
May  guide  us  as  we  go. 

2    No  sinful  word,  nor  deed  of  wrong, 

Nor  thoughts  that  idly  rove  ; 
But  simple  truth  be  on  our  tongue, 

And  in  our  hearts  be  love. 


OPENING   OF   SERVICE. 


15 


3  And  while  the  hours  in  order  flow, 
O  Christ,  securely  fence 

Our  gates,  beleaguered  by  tho 
The  gate  of  every  sense. 

4  And  grant  that  to  thine  honor,  Lord, 
Our  daily  toil  may  tend  ; 

That  we  begin  it  at  thy  word. 
And  in  thy  favor  end. 

5  Now  to  our  God,  the  Father,  Son, 
And  Holy  Spirit,  sing: 

With  praise  to  God,  the  Three  in  One, 
Let  all  creation  ring. 


CARDINAL   NEWMAN. 


This  is  one  of  the  excellent  translations 
with  which  John  Henry  Newman  has  enriched 
our  hymnology.  It  is  rendered  with  grace- 
fulness and  spirit  from  the  hymn  attributed  to 
Ambrose,  Jam  lucis  orto  sidere,  as  found  in 
the  Paris  Breviary.  The  author  tells  us  that 
his  voyage  from  Palermo  to  Marseilles,  on  his 
way  home  from  Rome,  was  thoroughly  occu- 
pied :  "  I  was  writing  verses  the  whole  time 
of  my  passage."  He  was  evidently,  partly 
with  the  return  of  health,  and  partly  with  the 
gaining  of  a  settled  mood  of  mind,  in  a  state 
of  the  highest  exhilaration  and  poetic  fervor. 

A  very  strange  measure  of  emotion  comes 
over  me  as,  in  the  ordinary  course  of  these 
annotations,  I  reach  the  name  of  John  Henry 
Newman.  The  venerable  prelate  of  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church  lies  dead  as  I  take 
my  pen ;  friends  whose  names  are  mighty, 
and  whose  numbers  grow  large  as  they  gath- 
er, are  looking  upon  his  face,  pale  and  quiet, 
in  the  hall  of  the  Oratory  at  Birmingham. 
He  was  born  in  London,  February  21,  1801  ; 
he  died  in  Birmingham,  August  11,  1890,  two 
days  ago,  suddenly,  and  apparently  without 
pain.  It  arrests  one's  imagination  to  think 
seriously  here  how  much  he  has  learned  with- 
in these  forty-eight  hours  concerning  those 
things  which  he  tried  honestly  to  understand, 
if  ever  a  Christian  man  tried  to  understand 


anything,  for  years  on  years  of  patience,  gen- 
tleness, and  prayer.  Charles  Kingsley  was 
the  frankest  of  Great  Britain's  great  men ;  as 
a  true  man  he  said  in  public  what  made  a 
true  man  pay  attention  to  his  words.  This 
led  Dr.  Newman  at  once  to  give  his  whole 
heart  to  the  world  in  his  Apologia  pro  Vita 
Sua.  Not  everybody  agreed  with  him,  but 
since  then  everybody  respected  him.  We 
used  to  go  and  hear  him  preach ;  for  better 
English  speech,  more  classical  correctness, 
could  nowhere  be  found  in  London,  and  with 
that  there  was  an  indescribable  dignity,  touch- 
ing one's  heart  like  a  sort  of  appealing  cry 
from  a  soul  in  earnest  and  a  life  perfectly 
pure.  He  began  almost  with  the  century,  he 
has  lived  almost  to  its  end.  He  was  a  marked 
man  in  the  world  of  letters,  in  history,  and  in 
ecclesiastical  position. 

2 1  Psalm  63.  C.  M. 

Early,  my  God,  without  delay, 

I  haste  to  seek  thy  face  ; 
My  thirsty  spirit  faints  away 

Without  thy  cheering  grace. 

2  I  've  seen  thy  glory  and  thy  power 
Through  all  thy  temples  shme  ; 

My  God,  repeat  that  heavenly  hour, 
That  vision  so  divine. 

3  Not  life  itself,  with  all  its  joys, 
Can  my  best  passions  move. 

Or  raise  so  high  my  cheerful  voice. 
As  thy  forgiving  love. 

4  Thus,  till  my  last  expiring  day, 
I  '11  bless  my  God  and  King ; 

Thus  will  I  lift  my  hands  to  pray. 
And  tune  my  lips  to  sing. 

Dr.  Isaac  Watts  gives  to  this  the  title,  "  The 
Morning  of  a  Lord's  Day."  It  consists  of 
six  stanzas,  and  is  his  version  of  Psalm  63, 
first  part,  C.  M.  It  used  to  be  sung  at  what 
were  called  "  Dawn  Meetings "  years  ago, 
and  it  is  still  employed  as  a  devotional  medi- 
tation by  many  a  child  of  God,  as  he  rises  and 
remembers  that  the  day  has  come  which  in 
the  Lord's  house  is  better  than  a  thousand. 
"  Since  I  began,"  says  Edward  Payson,  when 
he  was  preparing  for  the  ministry,  "  to  beg 
God's  blessing  on  my  studies,  I  have  done 
more  in  one  week  than  in  the  whole  year  be- 
fore." Martin  Luther,  when  most  pressed 
with  toils,  would  never  fail  to  throw  himself 
on  his  knees  the  moment  he  saw  the  sunrise ; 
for  he  felt  this  in  his  soul :  "  I  have  so  much 
to  do  that  I  cannot  get  on  without  three  hours 
a  day  praying."  Many  of  God's  best  people 
have  attributed  their  strength  and  advance- 
ment, more  than  to  anything  else,  to  the  habit 
of  devoting  the  first  moments  of  the  morning 
to  supplication.  Havelock  rose  at  four  o'clock, 
if  the  hour  for  marching  was  six,  rather  than 
be  compelled  to  lose  the  precious  privilege  of 


i6 


OPENING  OF  SERVICE. 


communion  with  God  before  setting  out.  Sir 
Matthew  Hale  once  wrote :  "  If  I  omit  pray- 
ing and  reading  God's  Word  in  the  morning, 
nothing  goes  well  all  the  day."  Preachers 
would  give  more  to  be  assured  that  their  hear- 
ers have  been  well  employed  during  the  hour 
before  service  on  the  Lord's  Day,  than  for 
any  other  exercises  in  the  sanctuary  or  out  of 
it.' 
22  Psalm  5.  C.  M. 

Lord,  in  the  morning  thou  shalt  hear 

My  voice  ascending  high  ; 
To  thee  will  I  direct  my  prayer, 

To  thee  lift  up  mine  eye ; — 

2  Up  to  the  hills,  where  Christ  has  gone 
To  plead  for  all  his  saints, 

Presenting,  at  his  Father's  throne, 
Our  songs  and  our  complaints. 

3  Thou  art  a  God  before  whose  sight 
The  wicked  shall  not  stand  ; 

Sinners  shall  ne'er  be  thy  delight, 
Nor  dwell  at  thy  right  hand. 

4  But  to  thy  house  will  I  resort, 
To  taste  thy  mercies  there  ; 

I  will  frequent  thy  holy  court 
And  worship  in  thy  fear. 

5  Oh,  may  tliy  Spirit  guide  my  feet 
In  ways  of  righteousness; 

Make  every  path  of  duty  straight, 
And  plain  before  my  face. 

In  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  collection  this  has  eight 
stanzas,  and  it  is  his  version  of  Psalm  5,  C.  M. 
He  has  entitled  it,  "  For  the  Lord's  Day 
morning." 

The  late  Rev.  James  Allen  used  to  pray : 
"  O  God,  make  me  now  all  that  thou  wouldst 
"have  me  to  be  now ;  make  me  now  all  that  it 
is  possible  to  be  now."  Prayer  like  this, 
offered  in  full  consecration  and  full  trust,  al- 
ways evokes  the  desired  response  from  the 
divine  mercv. 


23  Psalm  122.  C.  M. 

How  did  my  heart  rejoice  to  hear 

My  friends  devoutly  say, 
"  In  Zion  let  us  all  appear. 

And  keep  the  solemn  day." 

2  I  love  her  gates,  I  love  the  road  ; 
The  Church,  adorned  with  g^race. 

Stands  like  a  palace  built  for  God, 
To  show  his  milder  face. 

3  Up  to  her  courts,  with  joys  unknown. 
The  holy  tribes  repair ; 

The  Son  of  David  holds  his  throne, 
And  sits  in  judgment  there. 

4  Peace  be  within  this  sacred  place, 
And  joy  a  constant  guest : 

With  holy  gifts  and  heavenly  grace 
Be  her  attendants  blest. 

5  My  soul  shall  pray  for  Zion  still. 
While  life  or  breath  remains : 

There  my  best  friends,  my  kindred,  dwell,  24 

There  God,  my  Saviour,  reigns. 

"  Going  to  Church  "  is  the  title  which  Dr. 
Isaac  Watts  has  affixed  to  this  version  of 


Psalm  122,  C.  M.  One  of  the  six  stanzas  is 
omitted.  These  words  have  long  been  asso- 
ciated with  a  familiar  old  tune,  which  used  to 
be  sung  almost  invariably  in  New  England 
whenever  they  were  given  out  from  the  pulpit 
or  at  family  prayers.  One  might  close  his 
eyes  and  reproduce  the  whole  vision  of  a  con- 
ference-meeting with  just  a  strain  of  that  tune 
"  Mear,"  as  naturalists  are  said  to  draw  the 
picture  of  a  fish  the  moment  they  see  a  single 
scale  taken  from  it.  Some  days  there  were 
in  this  Christian  republic  wherein  the  very 
folk-songs  of  the  people  were  psalms  and 
hymns  from  Tate  and  Brady  or  Worcester  s 
Watts  sung  to  Aaron  Williams'  music.  In 
these  times  some  persons  get  up  what  they 
call  "  Old  Folks'  Concerts,"  in  which  they 
make  the  ancient  choirs  appear  very  funny. 
But  those  were  excellent  and  pious  days  after 
all ;  they  fashioned  brave  men  and  pure  wo- 
men, and  they  gave  to  the  world  great  litera- 
ture, and  sweet  memories  of  patience  and 
strength,  and  gentle  lives  that  knew  and  loved 
God  when  times  were  tougher  than  now. 

Not  long  ago  a  touching  poem  was  pub- 
lished anonymously  in  the  Hartford  Times 
which  seems  to  be  worth  quoting  and  perhaps 
preserving : 

"  I  HEARD  the  words  of  the  preacher 

As  he  read  that  psalm  so  dear, 

Which  mother  sang  at  our  cradle 

To  the  ancient  tune  of  Mear. 

"  And  1  felt  her  angel  presence 

As  sung  were  those  blessed  words ; 
My  heart  was  with  rapture  filling 
As  sweet  as  the  song  of  birds. 

"  I  longed  for  the  land  of  summer, 
Life's  river,  with  waters  clear. 
For  the  calm,  sweet  eyes  of  mother, 
Who  sang  the  old  tune  of  Mear. 

"  To-day  that  e'er-welcomed  cadence 
Of  song  floated  back  to  me  ; 
Over  the  paths  of  my  childhood 
It  lovingly  came,  all  free. 

"  I  thanked  the  gr>od  All-Father 
For  this  memor>-  brightly  clear; 
The  saintly  smile  of  my  mother, 
And  her  low  voice  singing  Mear. 

"Ah,  me  !  the  father  has  rested 
Many  and  many  a  year  ; 
The  mother  who  sang  by  our  cradle 
Has  gone  to  a  higher  sphere. 

"  Brothers  and  sisters  have  parted  ; 

Some  live  in  the  Better  Land, 
And  some  are  waiting  their  summons, 
Sojourners  yet  on  life's  strand. 

"  I  feel  when  we  meet  up  yonder, 
Where  cometh  no  sigh  nor  tear, 
Our  mother  will  softly  sing  us 
That  grand  old  tune  of  Mear." 


Psalm  84. 

My  soul,  how  lovely  is  the  place 
To  which  t^y  Go<l  resorts  ! 

'Tis  heaven  to  see  his  sniilin?  face, 
Though  in  his  earthly  courts. 


CM. 


OPENING  OF   SERVICE. 


17 


2  There  tlie  )j;reat  Monarch  of  the  skies 
His  savins:  power  displays ; 

And  lijjht  tireaks  in  npoii  our  eyes 
With  kina  and  i|uick.ning  rays. 

3  With  his  rich  ^ifts  the  heavenly  Dove 
Descends  and  fills  the  place  . 

While  Christ  revea  s  liis  wondrous  love, 
And  sheds  abroad  his  grace. 

4  There,  mighty  God,  thy  words  declare 
The  secrets  of  thy  will ; 

And  still  we  seek  thy  mercy  there, 
And  sing  thy  praises  still. 

There  is  a  great  deal  more  in  this  plain 
hymn  of  Dr.  Isaac  Watts  than  most  persons 
would  suspect.  Virtually  it  is  a  paraphrase 
rather  than  a  version,  although  he  has  given  it 
with  nine  stanzas  as  his  rendering  of  Psalm 
84,  C.  M.  He  has  entitled  it,  "  Delight  in 
Ordinances  of  Worship ;  or,  God  Present  in 
his  Churches."  The  allusion  to  the  Day  qI 
Pentecost  and  the  descent  of  the  dove,  as 
well  as  the  reference  to  the  Mount  of  Trans- 
figuration, are  out  of  place  in  any  proper 
translation  of  one  of  the  songs  of  the  temple ; 
but  they  are  excellent  in  suggestion  when  one 
is  in  the  mood  of  catching  similitudes  of  spir- 
itual life  in  worship. 

The  use  of  the  means  of  grace  is  the  condi- 
tion of  receiving  what  grace  the  good  Lord 
means  to  send  us.  We  go  to  the  house  of 
prayer  in  due  performance  of  routine ;  but 
our  Lord  does  not  meet  us  in  such  a  way. 
He  prepares  his  surprises  unseen;  we  come 
like  children  expecting  what  he  will  be  sure 
to  have  in  his  hands  for  us.  It  is  "  the  se- 
crets" of  his  will  that  are  disclosed.  We 
e^iter  the  sanctuary  with  our  sight  in  some 
way  dimmed ;  in  an  exalted  moment  "  light 
breaks  in  upon  our  eyes."  Doctrines  grow 
plain ;  disciplines  are  illumined ;  doubts  van- 
ish. Thus  the  Lord  sends  us  "  help  from  the 
sanctuary." 

25  Psa/m  25  :  14.  C.  M. 

Speak  to  me,  Lord,  thyself  reveal, 
While  here  on  earth  I  rove ; 

Speak  to  my  heart,  and  let  me  feel 
The  kindling  of  thy  love. 

2  With  thee  conversing,  I  forget 
All  time  and  toil  and  care ; 

Labor  is  rest,  and  pain  is  sweet, 
If  thou,  my  God,  art  here. 

3  Thou  callest  me  to  seek  thy  face ; 
Thy  face,  O  God,  I  seek. 

Attend  the  whispers  of  thy  grace. 
And  hear  thee  inly  speak. 

4  Let  this  my  every  hour  employ, 
Till'  I  thy  glory  see. 

Enter  into  my  Master's  joy, 
And  find  my  heaven  in  thee. 

Rev.  Charles  Wesley,  son  of  Samuel  and 
Susannah  Wesley,  was  born  at  Epworth,  in 
England,  Dec.  18,  1708.     He  was  the  young- 
2 


REV.    CHARLES  WESLEY. 

est  of  at  least  eighteen  children — some  biog- 
raphers say  nineteen  —  of  whom,  however, 
nine  died  in  their  infancy.  The  boy  was 
educated  first  by  his  own  mother,  then  at 
Westminster  School  under  his  brother  Sam- 
uel, and  ultimately  received  his  degree  at 
Oxford.  In  1735  he  came  to  America,  acting 
as  the  secretary  of  General  Oglethorpe  while 
here,  but  returned  to  England  a  year  or  two 
afterward.  At  that  time  he  was  not  experi- 
mentally a  Christian,  though  he  was  ordained, 
and  kept  himself  busily  engaged  in  mission- 
ary work  among  the  Indians.  His  genuine 
conversion,  dating  the  subsequent  year, 
changed  the  whole  course  of  his  life ;  then  he 
became  a  preacher  by  profession,  but  he  never 
was  settled  in  a  cure  of  souls  except  at  St. 
Mary's  in  Islington,  and  that  for  a  short  time. 
He  was  the  rather  an  itinerant  evangelist, 
serving  as  the  companion  or  helper  of  his 
brother.  For  many  seasons  they  traveled 
through  England  and  Ireland,  until,  in  1749, 
Charles  married  Miss  Sarah  GwTune,  of 
Garth ;  then  he  settled  with  his  family,  first 
in  Bristol  for  some  years,  then  finally  in  Great 
Chesterfield  Street,  London,  acting  as  resi- 
dent clergyman  to  some  Methodist  societies 
in  that  city  to  the  end  of  his  days.  He  died, 
aged  eighty-one  years,  March  29,  1788,  and 
his  body  was  interred  in  the  graveyard  of 
Old  Marylebone  Church,  near  his  residence  at 
the  time. 

These  facts,  constituting  what  may  be  called 
the  da^a  of  this  remarkable  man's  life,  are  all 
that  need  to  be  stated  in  these  annotations. 


i8 


OPENING   OF   SERVICE. 


But  many  striking  incidents  of  his  biography 
will  appear  in  connection  with  individual 
hymns  that  he  wrote  during  the  course  of  fifty 
years  of  literary  activity. 

This  invocation,  so  appropriate  as  an  open- 
ing or  a  closing  hymn,  first  appeared  in  Rev. 
Charles  Wesley's  Hymns  and  Sacred  Poems, 
1 740.  There  it  has  six  stanzas ;  the  one  be- 
ginning "  Saviour,  who  ready  art  to  hear,"  is 
omitted,  and  the  word  "  talk  "  is  changed  to 
the  word  "  speak." 

It  is  always  interesting  to  hear  John  Wes- 
ley in  his  preaching  comment  upon  any  of  his 
poet-brother's  songs.  In  connection  with  this 
one  he  remarks  thus : 

"  When  thou  prayest,  use  all  the  privacy 
thou  canst,  only  leave  it  not  undone,  whether 
thou  hast  any  closet,  any  privacy  or  no.  Pray 
to  God,  if  it  be  possible,  where  none  seeth 
but  he  ;  but,  if  otherwise,  pray  to  God,  and  thy 
Father  which  seeth  in  secret  shall  reward  thee 
openly." 

In  the  25th  Psalm  there  is  this  verse  :  "  The 
secret  of  the  Lord  is  with  them  that  fear  him ; 
and  he  will  show  them  his  covenant."  In  the 
margin  of  the  new  revision  that  word  "  se- 
cret "  is  rendered  counsel  or  friendship.  It 
really  means  a  ivhisper;  that  is  to  say,  it  sig- 
nifies a  private  communication  addressed  by 
one  intimate  friend  to  another,  a  confidential 
endearment  or  suggestion  of  affectionate  ad- 
vice, such  as  would  often  pass  between  loving 
companions.  Then  in  both  versions  the  clos- 
ing clause  has  for  a  substitute  in  the  margin  : 
"  And  his  covenant  to  make  them  know  it." 
So  here  we  have  a  very  pathetic  promise  :  the 
Lord  has  always  a  secret  to  give  to  those  who 
are  his  intimate  friends ;  he  will  express  to 
them  some  personal  token  of  love,  if  they  are 
only  "  conversing  "  with  him ;  there  are  "  whis- 
pers of  his  grace  "  which,  if  they  devoutly  lis- 
ten, he  will  "  inly  speak  "  to  their  "  heart ;" 
there  can  be  no  failure,  for  "  his  covenant  is  " 
to  make  them  "  know  it." 


26  "  The  Rising  Day." 

Once  more,  my  soul,  the  rising  day 

Salutes  thy  waking  eyes  ; 
Once  more,  my  voice,  thy  tribute  pay 

To  him  tliat  rules  the  skies. 

2  Night  unto  night  his  name  repeats, 
The  day  renews  the  sound, 

Wide  as  the  heaven  on  which  he  sits, 
To  turn  the  seasons  round. 

3  'Tis  he  supports  my  mortal  frame; 
My  tongue  shall  speak  his  praise ; 

My  sins  would  rouse  his  wrath  to  flame, 
And  yet  his  wrath  delays. 

4  Great  God,  let  all  my  hours  be  thine. 
While  I  enjoy  the  light : 

Then  shall  my  sun  in  smiles  decline. 
And  bring  a  pleasant  night. 


CM. 


A  fresh  instance  of  the  marrying  of  a  hymn 
and  tune  so  that  no  man  shall  put  them  asun- 
der. Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  hymn,  which  is  in  his 
own  Book  II.,  No.  6,  where  it  is  entitled  "  A 
Morning  Song,"  and  has  six  stanzas,  must 
always  be  sung  to  "  Peterboro."  That  has 
been  the  rule  for  more  years  than  most  of 
modern  singers  will  ever  wish  to  live. 

How  beautiful  is  the  picture  of  a  soul,  lov- 
ing and  trustful,  erecting  itself  to  receive  fitly 
a  day  which  has  risen  to  salute  its  waking 
eyes  !  And  how  glad  such  a  soul  is  when  its 
turn  comes  to  offer  its  acknowledgments  for 
mercies  received  in  the  solemn  midnight. 
Perhaps  it  has  been  a  night  of  heavy  and  aw- 
ful experience  ;  God  has  during  all  its  glooms 
and  horrors  supported  our  mortal  frame ; 
then  it  is  that  the  Christian  soul  brings  its 
sweetest  return  of  gratitude.  The  writer  of 
these  lines  has  in  his  possession  an  autograph 
letter  of  the  explorer  Stanley,  probably  never 
before  brought  to  light.  It  was  written  and 
sent  in  1879  when  he  had  just  emerged  from 
his  earliest  perils.  This  was  before  he  had 
grown  into  the  veteran  he  is  now.  But  even 
then,  January,  1879,  almost  fourteen  years  ago, 
he  was  just  as  honestly  grateful  to  God  as  he 
has  ever  been  since.     These  are  his  words  : 

"  That  I  escaped  from  it  I  acknowledge  is 
due  only  to  the  goodness  of  God.  He  it  was 
who  rescued  me  from  the  horrors  which  sur- 
rounded us  many  months.  He  it  was  who 
sustained  us  in  our  bitter  trials.  To  him 
be  all  my  gratitude.  I  earnestly  hope  that 
what  I  have  been  permitted  to  do  will  redound 
to  the  great  glory  of  his  name,  and  that  Afri- 
ca will  send  her  millions  to  the  fold  of  Christ." 
It  was  a  "  Dark  Continent ;"  but  the  rising 
day  saluted  the  brave  man,  and  he  returned 
the  salute  like  a  knight  and  a  soldier:  "  Great 
God,  let  all  my  hours  be  thine !  Once  more 
I  tribute  pay  to  him  that  rules  the  skies  !" 

27  "  Worthy  the  Lamb!"  C.  M. 

Sing  we  the  song  of  those  who  stand 

Around  the  eternal  throne, 
Of  every  kindred,  clime,  and  land, 
A  multitude  unknown. 

2  Life's  poor  distinctions  vanish  here: 
To-day  the  young,  the  old. 

Our  Saviour  and  his  flock  appear. 
One  Shepherd  and  one  fold. 

3  Toil,  trial,  sufferings  still  await 
On  earth  the  pilgrim  throng; 

Yet  learn  we  in  our  low  estate 
The  Church  Triumphant's  song. 

4  "Worthy  the  Lamb  for  sinners  slain," 
Cry  the  redeemed  above, 

"  Blessing  and  honor  to  obtain, 
And  everlasting  love  !" 

5  "  Worthy  the  Lamb,"  on  earth  we  sing, 
"  Who  died  our  souls  to  save  1 

Henceforth,  O  Death,  where  is  thy  sting? 
Thy  victory,  O  Grave  !" 


OPENING  OF  SERVICE. 


19 


JAMES   MONTGOMEKV. 

James  Montgomery,  the  British  poet,  was 
born  in  Irvine,  Ayrshire,  Scotland,  November 
4,  1 77 1 .  His  father  was  a  Moravian  preacher, 
and  James,  being  intended  for  the  same  office, 
was  sent  in  his  seventh  year  to  a  Moravian 
settlement  at  Fuhieck,  near  Leeds,  to  com- 
plete his  education.  Here  he  remained  ten 
years,  distinguished  only  by  indolence  and 
melancholy.  The  brethren  at  Fulneck  then 
apprenticed  him  to  a  grocer  at  Mirtield.  Be- 
fore the  age  of  fourteen  he  had  written  a  mock 
heroic  poem  of  one  thousand  lines,  and  had 
commenced  an  epic  to  be  called  "  The  World." 
He  ran  away  in  June,  1789,  but  after  many 
wanderings  engaged  again  as  shop-boy  in 
Wath,  a  village  in  Yorkshire.  A  year  later 
he  sent  a  volume  of  manuscript  poetry  to  Mr. 
Harrison,  a  London  publisher,  and  soon  after 
went  to  London  himself.  Harrison  refused 
his  poems,  but  engaged  him  as  his  shop-man. 
Toward  the  end  of  1 792  he  became  clerk  to 
Joseph  Gales,  editor  and  publisher  of  the  Shef- 
field Register,  a  newspaper  of  revolutionary 
tendencies.  Gales  fled  to  America  to  avoid 
arrest  for  treason,  and  Montgomery  started 
a  new  weekly  journal  called  the  Sheffield  Iris, 
advocating  peace  and  reform  principles. 

The  first  number  appeared  July  4,  1794, 
and  he  edited  it  till  July,  1825.  Almost  im- 
mediately after  the  first  appearance  of  the 
Irzs  he  was  fined  ^20  and  sentenced  to  three 
months'  imprisonment  for  printing  a  doggerel 
ballad  on  "  The  Fall  of  the  Bastile  "  for  a  poor 
hawker.  Again,  in  1796,  he  was  found  guilty 
of  sedition,  fined  £y>,  and  sentenced  to  six 
months'  imprisonment,  for  publishing  in  his 
newspaper  an  account  of  a  riot  in  Sheffield. 
He  was  confined  in  York  Castle,  where  he 


wrote  a  small  voljime  of  poems  entitled  Prison 
Amusevients,  published  in  1797.  His  gentle 
yet  earnest  character  and  his  literary  ability 
gradually  won  him  the  regard  of  his  political 
opponents,  and  he  began  to  take  high  rank  as 
a  sacred  poet. 

In  1806  he  published  The  Wanderer  of 
Switzerland;  in  1807,  West  Indies ;  m  181 3, 
The  World  Before  the  Flood,  which  attained 
great  popularity;  and  in  18 19,  Greenland. 
In  1833  a  pension  of  ^200  was  bestowed  upon 
him  by  the  government.  He  was  a  liberal 
Whig  and  an  ardent  slavery  abolitionist,  and 
in  his  manhood  reunited  himself  with  the 
Moravians.  Besides  the  works  mentioned  he 
published  others  of  later  dates,  including 
Original  Hymns.  Many  of  these  hymns  find 
place  in  every  modern  church  collection,  and 
breathe  an  air  of  devout  piety.  Montgomery 
died  near  Sheffield,  April  30,  1854. 

28  Psalm  122.  C.  M. 

With  joy  we  hail  the  sacred  day 
Which  God  hath  called  his  own ; 

With  joy  tlie  summons  we  obey 
To  worship  at  his  throne. 

2  Thy  chosen  temple,  Lord,  how  fair  ! 
Where  willing  votaries  throng 

To  breathe  the  humble,  fervent  prayer 
And  pour  the  choral  song. 

3  Spirit  of  grace  !  oh,  deign  to  dwell 
Within  thy  church  below  ; 

Make  her  in  holiness  excel, 
With  pure  devotion  glow. 

4  Let  peace  within  her  walls  be  found  ; 
Let  all  her  sons  unite 

To  spread  with  grateful  zeal  around 
Her  clear  and  shining  light. 

Miss  Harriet  Auber  was  a  lady  in  the  com- 
munion of  the  Church  of  England,  who  was 
born  in  London,  October  4,  1773,  and  died  at 
Hoddesdon,  in  Hertfordshire,  January  20, 
1862.  She  published  only  one  book,  which 
was  issued  anonymously,  and  this  she  en- 
titled The  Spirit  of  the  Psalms ;  or,  a  Com- 
pressed Version  of  Select  Portions  of  the 
Psalms  of  David.  This  was  in  1829,  and 
she  lived  to  be  eighty-nine  years  of  age.  Her 
life  was  a  very  quiet  and  secluded  one,  but 
she  left  behind  her  a  host  of  friends  to  whom 
her  gentleness  and  grace  had  endeared  her. 


29 


Psalfn  132. 


C.  M. 


Arisk,  O  King  of  grace!  arise. 

And  enter  to  thy  rest ; 
Lo  !  thy  church  waits,  with  longing  eyes, 

Thus  to  be  owned  and  blest. 

2  Enter,  with  all  thy  glorious  train, 

Thv  Spirit  and  thy  word  ; 
All  that  the  ark  did  once  contain 

Could  no  such  grace  afford. 


OPENING   OF   SERVICE. 


3  Here,  mighty  God!  accept  oui  vows; 
Here  let  thy  praise  be  spread: 

Bless  the  provisions  of  thy  house, 
And  fill  thy  poor  with  bread. 

4  Here  let  the  Son  of  David  reign, 
Let  God's  Anointed  shine  ; 

Justice  and  truth  his  court  maintain, 
With  love  and  power  divine. 

5  Here  let  him  hold  a  lastitig  tlirone; 
And,  as  his  kingdom  grows. 

Fresh  honors  shall  adorn  his  crown. 
And  shame  confound  his  foes. 

This  is  the  version  of  Psalm  132  by  Dr. 
Isaac  Watts,  and  in  his  edition  of  1810  it  ap- 
pears with  eight  stanzas,  and  is  entitled  "  A 
Church  Established."  The  author  placed  a 
"  pause  "  after  the  third  verse,  and  the  hymn 
has  been  generally  made  to  commence  with 
the  fourth  as  he  suggested.  It  is  often  used 
with  great  success  as  a  dedication  anthem. 

30  "  Come,  Lord!"  C.  M. 

Come,  thou  Desire  of  all  thy  saints! 

Our  humble  strains  attend. 
While  witli  our  praises  and  complaints 

Low  at  thy  feet  we  bend. 

2  How  should  our  songs,  like  those  above. 
With  warm  devotion  rise  ! 

How  should  our  souls,  on  wings  of  love, 
Mount  upward  to  the  skies ! 

3  Come,  Lord  !  thy  love  alone  can  raise 
In  us  tlie  heavenly  flame ; 

Then  shall  our  lips  resound  thy  praise, 
Our  hearts  adore  thy  name. 

4  Dear  Saviour,  let  thy  glory  shine, 
And  fill  thy  dwellings  here, 

Till  life,  and  love,  and  joy  divine 
A  heaven  on  earth  appear. 


BIRTHPLACE  OF    MISS  ANNE  STEELE. 

In  1760  Miss  Anne  Steele,  the  composer  of 
this  hymn,  published  in  London  two  volumes 
of  what  she  entitled  Poems  on  Subjects  Chief- 
ly Devotional ;  to  these  she  added  her  name 
only  as  "  Theodosia."  These  ancient  books, 
as  they  came  forth  to  the  public  in  the  first 
edition,  lie  before  me  as  1  write.  The  old 
spelling,  the  singular  forms  of  the  letters,  the 
frequent  elisions  for  the  sake  of  the  meter,  are 


\tx\  interesting^  as  showing  the  customs  and 
tastes  of  the  times.  Two  fairly  good  wood- 
cuts adorn  the  pages  and  act  as  frontispieces, 
allegorical  and  religious,  with  mottoes  to 
match.  This  hymn  is  taken  from  a  long 
poem.  Its  title  is  :  "  Intreating  the  Presence 
of  Christ  in  his  Churches."  The  text  affixed 
to  it  is  Hag.  2:7:  "  The  Desire  of  all  nations 
shall  come." 

It  is  to  be  regretted  that  we  are  not  able  to 
secure  any  portrait  of  this  devout  lady,  whose 
poems  have  been  the  stay  and  delight  of  many 
thousands  of  the  tried  children  of  Goa.  But 
we  have  the  picture  of  the  house  under  the 
roof  of  which  she  was  born  and  reared.  She 
was  the  eldest  daughter  of  Rev.  William 
Steele,  of  Broughton,  in  Hampshire  ;  and  it  is 
recorded  that  he  was  a  clerg}'man  of  much 
piety  and  force,  who  for  sixty  years  in  succes- 
sion ministered  to  a  Baptist  congregation  in 
that  village,  where  she  was  born  in  1716,  and 
where  she  lived  all  her  life.  What  Isaac 
Watts  was  on  the  one  side.  Miss  Anne  Steele 
was  on  the  other ;  differing  in  sex  but  both 
unmarried,  they  sang  the  sweetest  songs  of 
praise  and  experience  for  the  Christian  home, 
and  gave  to  the  church  of  Christ  some  of  the 
noblest  lyrics  for  divine  services  in  the  sanctu- 
ary. And  they  lived  tranquilly  in  the  south 
of  England,  only  fifteen  miles  apart.  This 
devout  and  spiritually-minded  woman  became 
a  member  of  her  father's  church  when  she 
was  only  fourteen  years  old,  and  for  all  the 
rest  of  her  life  she  was  the  faithful  associate 
and  worker  with  him  in  everything  that  was 
for  the  glor>'  of  the  Master  whom  he  loved. 
In  her  early  life  she  was  betrothed  to  a  gen- 
tleman named  Ellsworth ;  but  on  the  day 
previous  to  their  expected  wedding  he  was 
suddenly  drowned.  Her  heart  was  almost 
broken ;  she  remained  true  to  his  memor\- ; 
and  for  all  the  long  subdued  years  afterwards 
she  spent  the  little  strength  she  possessed  in 
doing  affectionate  and  generous  deeds  of 
good  among  the  neighbors  with  whom  she 
was  thrown.  She  wrote  many  hymns,  some 
of  which  are  among  the  most  prized  by  God's 
people  of  ever)'  name.  Her  health  was  al- 
ways feeble ;  her  spirit  was  pensive,  but  not 
sad  ;  aspiring,  but  never  excited ;  for  many 
seasons  a  great  sufferer,  she  sang  for  the 
churches  some  of  their  most  cheering  songs ; 
then  in  full  faith  died  at  the  last  in  1778,  aged 
sixty-one. 

3 1  Sincerity.  C.  M. 

Lord  !  when  we  bend  before  thy  throne, 

And  our  confessions  pour. 
Oh,  may  we  feel  the  sins  we  own, 
■  And  hate  what  we  deplore. 


OPENING   OF  SERVICE, 


21 


2  Our  contrite  spirits  pitying  see  ; 
True  penitence  impart; 

And  let  a  healing  ray  from  thee 
Beam  hope  on  every  heart. 

3  When  we  disclose  our  warns  in  prayer, 
May  we  our  wills  resign  ; 

Nor  let  a  thought  our  bosom  share 
Which  is  not  wholly  thine. 

4  Let  faith  each  meek  petition  fill, 
And  waft  it  to  the  skies : 

And  teach  our  heart  'tis  goodness  still 
That  grants  it  or  denies. 

When  Lord  Elgin  was  appointed  as  am- 
bassador to  the  Sublime  Porte  in  1 799  he  was 
accompanied  by  the  Rev.  Joseph  Dacre  Car- 
lyle,  the  son  of  George  Cariyle.  This  clergy- 
man of  the  Church  of  England  had  been 
Professor  of  Arabic  at  Cambridge  for  live 
years,  and  the  Vicar  of  Newcastle-on-Tyne 
afterward.  He  was  one  of  the  scholars  who 
aided  in  the  purposes  of  the  expedition,  spe- 
cially seeking  to  ascertain  what  literary  treas- 
ures survived  in  the  public  library  of  Constan- 
tinople. He  was  an  accomplished  man,  well 
fitted  for  a  position  of  that  sort.  His  journey 
on  the  trip  was  extended  to  Asia  Minor  and 
the  Greek  archipelago,  and  on  his  travels  he 
seems  to  have  used  a  portion  of  his  spare 
time  in  poetic  composition.  His  fame  has 
never  at  all  rested  upon  his  verses,  much  less 
upon  his  hymns ;  for  only  the  one  before  us 
has  found  its  way  into  the  common  collections 
or  even  appeared  on  this  side  of  the  ocean. 
He  was  a  tall  man  in  figure,  thin  and  dark, 
with  reserved  manners  and  shy  demeanor. 
The  best  work  he  was  doing  was  that  of  an 
Orientalist ;  he  was  at  the  time  of  his  decease 
editing  the  Arabic  text  of  the  Bible ;  but  it 
was  cut  short  very  abruptly  by  his  death  at 
the  vicarage  in  Newcastle.  He  was  born  at 
Carlisle  June  4,  1758,  and  he  died  April  12, 
1804.  This  one  hymn  was  found  at  the  end 
of  a  volume  called  Poems  Suggested  by  Scenes 
in  Asia  Minor,  Syria,  and  Greece,  1805.  It 
is  entitled,  "  A  Hymn  Before  Public  Wor- 
ship," and  has  been  very  much  altered  since 
his  day. 

32  "  Light  in  thy  Light."  CM. 

Etkrnal  Sun  of  righteousness, 

Display  thy  beams  divine, 
And  cause  the  glory  of  thy  face 

Upon  my  heart  to  shine. 

2  Light  ill  thy  light,  oh,  may  I  see. 
Thy  grace  and  mercy  prove, 

Revived,  and  cheered,  and  blest  by  thee, 
The  God  of  pardoning  love. 

3  Lift  up  thy  countenance  serene. 
And  let  thy  happy  child 

Behold,  without  a  cloud  between. 
The  Father  reconciled. 

4  On  me  thy  promised  peace  bestow, 
The  peace  by  Jesus  given — 

The  joys  of  holiness  below. 
And  then  the  joys  of  heaven. 


Some  little  trouble  has  been  found  by  those 
who  have  tried  to  locate  and  identify  this 
hymn.  The  fact  is,  it  is  made  up  of  two 
joined  together,  both  of  them  written  by  Rev. 
Charles  Wesley ;  these  are  taken  from  his 
"  Short  Hymns  on  Select  Passages  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures,"  1762.  They  are  founded 
upon  the  priestly  benediction  recorded  in 
Numbers  6 :  25,  26.  Upon  the  first  of  these 
verses  he  composed  one  of  them,  and  on  the 
second  the  other ;  the  four  stanzas  are  then 
grouped  as  one  hymn. 

33  Psalm  118.  C.  M. 

This  is  the  day  the  Lord  hath  made  ; 

He  calls  the  hours  his  own  ; 
Let  heaven  rejoice,  let  earth  be  glad, 

And  praise  surround  the  throne. 

2  To-day  he  rose,  and  left  the  dead, 
And  Satan's  empire  fell ; 

To-day  the  saints  his  triumph  spread 
,  And  all  his  wonders  tell. 

3  Hosanna  to  the  anointed  King, 
To  David's  only  Son  ; 

Help  us.  O  Lord  ;  descend,  and  bring 
Salvat'on  from  thy  throne. 

4  Blest  be  the  Lord  who  comes  to  men 
With  messages  of  grace; 

Who  comes,  in  God  his  Father's  name, 
To  save  our  sinful  race. 

5  Hosatina  in  the  highest  strains 
The  church  on  earth  can  raise ; 

The  highest  heavens,  in  which  he  reigns. 
Shall  give  him  nobler  praise. 

In  the  collection  of  Dr.  Isaac  Watts  this 
piece  stands  as  a  version  of  Psalm  1 1 8,  Fourth 
Part,  C.  M.  He  has  evidently  not  had  very 
amiable  themes  to  deal  with  in  this  old  poem 
until  he  came  on  along  to  the  middle  of  it  at 
least ;  for  he  has  not  offered  us  much  poetry 
in  even  the  three  parts  of  fourteen  stanzas  in  all. 
But  here  he  has  boldly  swung  away  from  the 
rather  rough  phraseolog\',  gone  straight  out 
of  the  Old  Testament  "into  the  New,  chosen 
such  verses  as  he  liked  the  best,  and  made  a 
beautiful  hymn  out  of  them,  filled  it  with 
evangelical  sentiment,  entitled  his  work  "  Ho- 
sanna :  the  Lord's  Day;  or  Christ's  Resur- 
rection and  our  Salvation,"  and  sent  it  on 
down  the  ages  with  joyous  expectation  that 
the  churches  would  greet  it  as  worth  their 
singing. 

34  The  Sanctuary. 

How  charming  is  the  place 

Where  my  Redeemer,  God, 
Unvails  the  beauty  ol  his  face. 

And  sheds  his  love  abroad  ! 

2  Not  the  fair  palaces. 
To  which  the  great  resort. 

Are  once  to  be  compared  with  this, 
,  Where  Jesus  holds  his  court. 

3  Here  on  the  mercy-seat. 
With  radiant  glory  crowned. 

Our  joyful  eyes  behold  him  sit 
And  smile  on  all  around. 


S.  M. 


22 


OPENING  OF  SERVICE. 


4    Give  me,  O  Lord,  a  place 
Within  thy  blest  abode. 

Among  the  children  of  tliy  grace, 
The  servants  of  my  God. 


REV.    SAMUEL   STENNKTT,  D.  D. 

This  hymn,  by  Rev.  Samuel  Stennett,  D.  D., 
was  first  published,  like  most  of  the  composi- 
tions bearing  his  name,  in  the  collection  of 
Rev.  Dr.  Rippon.  It  is  a  bright  song  to  sing 
for  those  who  are  in  the  mood  for  meditative 
worship.  "  I  have  in  my  congregation,"  once 
said  a  venerable  minister  of  the  gospel,  "  a 
worthy  woman,  quite  aged  now,  who  has  for 
a  number  of  years  been  so  deaf  as  not  to  dis- 
tinguish the  loudest  sounds ;  and  yet  she  is 
always  one  of  the  first  in  the  Sabbath  meet- 
ing. On  asking  her  the  reason  of  such  con- 
stant attendance  she  answered  :  '  Though  I 
cannot  hear  your  voice  I  keep  coming  to 
God's  house  because  I  love  it,  and  because  I 
am  longing  to  be  found  in  his  ways ;  and  he 
g^ves  me  many  a  sweet  thought  upon  the  text, 
when  some  one  has  been  kind  enough  to  put 
my  finger  upon  it  in  the  Bible ;  and  then,  too, 
though  I  have  to  be  quiet,  with  no  part  with 
the  rest,  I  feel  that  I  am  in  the  best  of  com- 
pany, in  the  more  immediate  presence  of  God, 
and  among  his  saints  who  are  the  honorable 
of  the  earth.  I  am  not  satisfied  with  serving 
my  Maker  in  private  ;  it  is  my  duty  and  privi- 
lege to  honor  him  regularly  in  public'  "  And, 
no  doubt,  the  pastor  himself  went  away  from 
such  a  parishioner  thinking  joyously  in  his 
heart  how  fine  it  was  that  God's  love  and 
communion  were  given  to  many  whom  he 
could  not  reach  in  the  sanctuary-,  and  so  it 
became  to  all  alike  a  "  charming  place." 


Rev.  Samuel  Stennett,  D.  D..  was  born  in 
Exeter,  England,  where  his  father  was  pastor 
of  the  Baptist  Church,  1727.  When  the  lad 
was  ten  years  old  his  father  removed  to  Lon- 
don, and  became  the  minister  of  the  Baptist 
congregation  in  Little  Wild  Street.  As  the 
young  man  grew  up  he  assisted  his  father  in 
the  pastoral  care  of  the  parish,  and  when  the 
people  called  him  he  became  his  father's  suc- 
cessor, and  remained  in  the  pastorate  till  his 
death,  August  24,  1795.  He  was  an  excel- 
lent scholar,  gaining  the  degree  of  Doctor  of 
Divinity  from  the  University  of  Aberdeen, 
possessed  of  fine  literar)-  ability,  and  having 
great  influence  among  those  who  maintained 
themselves  in  usefulness  outside  of  the  Church 
of  England.  The  king  seems  to  have  given 
to  him  his  entire  confidence.  John  Howard 
was  his  frequent  hearer.  Once  writing  a  let- 
ter from  Smyrna,  this  famous  reformer  took 
occasion  to  speak  of  the  exceeding  pleasure 
he  had  in  reviewing  his  notes  of  Stennett 's 
sermons. 

35  Day  of  Light.  S.  M. 

This  is  the  day  of  lifrlit: 

Let  there  be  light  to-day  ; 
O  Davspring,  rise  upon  our  night. 

And  chase  its  gloom  away. 

2  This  is  the  day  of  rest: 
Our  failing  strength  renew  ; 

On  weary  brain  and  troubled  breast 
Shed  thou  thy  freshening  dew. 

3  This  is  the  day  of  peace: 
Thy  peace  our  spirits  fill ; 

Bid  thou  the  blasts  of  discord  cease. 
The  waves  of  strife  be  still. 

4  This  is  the  day  of  prayer: 

Let  earth  to  heaven  draw  near; 
Lift  up  our  hearts  to  seek  thee  tliere; 
Come  down  to  meet  us  here. 

5  This  is  the  first  of  days: 

Send  forth  thy  quickening  breath, 
And  wake  dead  souls  to  love  and  praise, 
O  Vanquisher  of  death  ! 

Rev.  John  Ellerton  contributed  this  piece  to 
the  Selection  of  Hymns  for  use  in  Chester 
Cathedral,  1867.  He  is  a  clergyman  in  the 
Established  Church  of  England,  having  taken 
orders  in  1850.  He  was  born  in  London, 
December  16,  1826,  and  was  educated  at 
Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  graduating  in 
1849.  As  late  as  1883  he  was  rector  of  the 
parish  church  of  Barnes,  Surrey,  England, 
and  is  at  present  rector  of  White  Roding. 
This  well-known  and  honored  poet  has  given 
many  excellent  hymns  to  all  the  hymnals. 
He  issued  one  collection  bearing  his  own  name, 
Church  Hymns,  Annotated ;  this  was  pub- 
lished by  the  "  Society  for  the  Promotion  of 
Christian  Knowledge."  London,  1881.  His 
hymns  are  peculiar  in  that  they  refer  more 
directly  to  the  worship  in  the  Lord's  house 


OPENING  OF  SERVICE. 


23 


REV.   JOHN   HI.KKRTON. 

upon  the  Lord's  day.  The  Sabbath  has  this 
wonderful  power  as  an  institution  :  those  who 
love  it  love  it  dearly.  It  gathers  into  itself 
memories  of  youth,  reminiscences  of  seasons 
of  grace,  family  mercies  and  affections,  times 
of  refreshment  and  days  of  alleviated  sorrow, 
when  God  has  sent  help  from  the  sanctuary. 
It  is,  indeed,  "  the  first  of  days,"  for  it  has  light 
and  rest  in  it  as  well  as  peace  and  prayer  and 
love  and  praise,  and  an  outlook  far  beyond. 

36  Jiev.  15:3.  s.  M. 

AwAKK,  and  sing  the  song 

Of  Moses  and  the  Lamb  ; 
Wake,  every  heart  and  every  tongue, 

To  praise  the  Saviour's  name. 

3    Sing  of  his  dying  love; 

Sina;  of  liis  rising  power ; 
Sing;  how  he  intercedes  above 

For  those  whose  sins  he  bore. 

3  Ye  pilgrims  !  on  the  road 
To  Ziou's  city,  sing  ! 

Rejoice  ye  in  the  Lamb  of  God- 
In  Christ,  the  eternal  King. 

4  Soon  shall  we  hear  him  say — 
"  Ye  blessSd  children,  come  !" 

Soon  will  he  call  us  hence  away, 
And  lake  his  wanderers  home. 

5  There  shall  each  raptured  tongue 
His  endless  praise  proclaim  : 

And  sweeter  voices  tune  the  song 
Of  Moses  and  the  Lamb. 

Rev.  William  Hammond,  who  wrote  this 
familiar  hymn,  was  a  Calvinist  Methodist 
minister,  who  afterwards  with  his  friend  Cen- 
nick  became  a  Moravian.  He  was  converted 
under  Whitefield's  preaching,  and  exercised 
his  calling  in  Bristol  and  London  and  other 
parts  of  England.  The  date  of  his  birth  is 
January  6,  1719;  he  died  in  London,  August 
^9.  1783,  and   was  buried   in  the  Moravian 


Cemeter)'.  This  hymn  was  published  in  his 
volume  called  Psalms,  Hymns,  and  Spiritual 
Songs,  1745.  A  plain  allusion  is  made  in  it 
to  Rev.  15:3.  The  title  which  the  author 
gave  it  was :  "  Before  Singing  of  Hymns,  by 
\Vayof  Introduction."  The  original  contains 
fourteen  stanzas.  Martin  Madan  is  said  to 
have  altered  it  much  in  1 760,  and  even  to  have 
added  one  or  more  of  the  verses  now  in  use, 
and  suppressed  the  rest. 

37  "  Immanuers  Ground."  S.  M. 

Come,  we  who  love  the  Lord, 

And  let  our  joys  be  known  ; 
Join  in  a  song  of  sweet  accord, 

And  thus  surround  the  throne. 

2  Let  those  refuse  to  sing 
Who  never  knew  our  God  ; 

But  children  of  the  heavenly  King 
.May  speak  their  joys  abroad. 

3  The  men  of  grace  have  found 
Glory  begun  below  ; 

Celestial  fruits  on  earthly  ground 
From  faith  and  hope  may  grow. 

4  The  hill  of  Zion  yields 

A  thousand  sacred  sweets 
Before  we  reach  the  heavenly  fields. 
Or  walk  the  golden  streets. 

5  Then  let  our  songs  abound, 
And  every  tear  be  dry  : 

We're  marching  through  Immanuel's  ground 
To  fairer  worlds  on  high. 

This  is  No.  30  of  Dr.  Watts'  Book  II. 
There  it  has  ten  stanzas,  and  is  entitled, 
"  Heavenly  Joy  on  Earth."  In  the  second 
stanza  the  author  wrote  the  line  "  But  fav'- 
rites  of  the  Heavenly  King."  With  a  very 
finical  taste  for  so-called  restoration,  some  of 
the  modern  collections  have  expunged  the  ex- 
cellent emendation,  children,  and  replaced  the 
awkward  /av' rites. 

There  was  once  a  difficulty  in  Rev.  Dr. 
Samuel  West's  congregation  in  the  old  New 
England  times.  The  choir  had  declined  to 
proceed  with  the  music.  So  the  shrewd  cler- 
gyman introduced  the  services  with  this  hymn. 
Having  read  it  slowly  through,  he  looked  sig- 
nificantly up  at  the  performers  in  the  gallery 
and  said :  "  Please  commence  at  the  second 
verse."  It  is  needless  to  mention  that  the 
choir  went  on  as  usual,  and  sang  with  the 
rest: 

"  Let  those  refuse  to  sing 

Who  never  knew  our  God  ; 
But  children  of  the  heavenly  King 
May  speak  their  joys  abroad." 

38  Psalm  92.  S.  M. 

SwKET  is  the  work,  O  Lord, 

Thy  glorious  name  to  sing  ; 
To  praise  and  pray — to  hear  thy  word, 

And  grateful  offerings  bring. 

Sweet — at  the  dawning  light, 

Thy  lioniidless  love  to  tell ; 
And  when  a|)proach  the  shades  of  night. 

Still  on  the  theme  to  dwell. 


24 


OPENING   OF   SERVICE. 


3  Sweet — on  tliis  day  of  rest, 
To  join  in  lieart  and  voice 

With  those  who  love  and  serve  thee  best 
And  in  thy  name  rejoice. 

4  To  songs  of  praise  and  joy 
Be  every  Sabbath  given, 

That  such  may  be  our  blest  employ 
Eternally  in  heaven. 

This  is  another  of  Miss  Harriet  Auber's 
very  good  versions ;  that  timid  singer  has 
given  us  no  details.  This  is  her  rendering  of 
Psalm  92,  S.  M.  It  was  published  in  the 
Spirit  of  the  Psalms,  1829. 

39  The  Eternal  Sabbath.  S.  M. 

Hail  to  the  Sabbath  day  ! 
The  day  divinely  given. 
When  men  to  God  their  homage  pay, 
And  earth  draws  near  to  heaven. 

2  Lord,  in  this  sacred  hour, 
Within  thy  courts  we  bend. 

And  biess  thy  love,  and  own  thy  power, 
Our  Father  and  our  Friend. 

3  But  thou  art  not  alone 
In  courts  by  mortals  trod  ; 

Nor  only  is  the  day  thine  own 
When  man  draws  near  to  God. 

4  Thy  temple  is  the  arch 
Of  yon  unmeasured  sky; 

Thy  Sabbath,  the  stupendous  march 
Of  grand  eternity. 

5  Lord,  may  that  holier  day 
Dawn  on  thy  servants'  sight ; 

And  purer  worship  may  we  pay 
In  heaven's  unclouded  light. 

Whether  architecture  and  poetry  are  al- 
ways found  in  alliance  or  not  we  may  not  be 
ready  to  say,  but  Charles  Bultinch,  of  Boston, 
was  an  architect,  and  Rev.  Stephen  Greenleaf 
Bulfinch,  D.  IJ..  the  author  of  this  hymn,  was 
his  son.  And  Charles  Bulfinch  drew  the 
plans  for  the  Ma-^sachusetts  State  House,  for 
the  City  Hall  in  Boston,  for  Faneuil  Hall,  and 
more  than  forty  churches  and  great  buildings 
in  the  New  England  towns ;  and  Stephen  G. 
Bulfinch  wrote  at  least  three  volumes  of  lyric 
poems  and  hymns,  together  with  many  more 
volumes  of  prose.  This  hymn  appears  in  his 
Contemplations  of  the  Saviour,  1832.  He 
was  born  in  Boston,  June  18, 1809;  graduated 
at  Columbian  College  1826,  studied  divinity 
at  Han-ard  University,  was  ordained  to  the 
Unitarian  ministry  in  1831,  and  continued  in 
the  pastorate  of  the  churches  in  that  connec- 
tion with  various  charges  until  he  died  at 
East  Cambridge,  Mass.,  October  1 2,  1 870.  He 
was  not  known  ver\'  widely  outside  of  his 
own  denomination,  though  he  was  a  man  of 
marked  ability  and  force.  His  best  poetry 
was  contributed  to  the  hymnal  prepared  for 
the  Unitarian  body. 

40  Hynin  of  Praise.  S.  M. 
With  ioy  we  lift  our  eyes 

To  those  bright  realms  above. 
That  glorious  temple  in  the  skies. 
Where  dwells  eternal  Love. 


2  Beff)re  thy  throne  we  bow, 
O  thou  almighty  King;  . 

Here  we  present  the  solemn  vow. 
And  hymns  of  praise  we  sing. 

3  While  in  thy  house  we  kneel. 
With  trust  and  holy  fear, 

Thy  mercy  and  thy  truth  reveal. 
And  lend  a  gracious  ear. 

4  Lord,  teach  our  hearts  to  pray, 
And  tune  our  lips  to  sing  ; 

Nor  from  thy  presence  cast  away 
The  sacrifice  we  bring. 

Rev.  Thomas  Jervis  was  an  English  Uni- 
tarian, and  was  settled  in  a  congregation  in 
Leeds.  This  hymn  written  by  him  is  found 
in  a  Collection  of  Hymns  and  Psalms  for  Pid- 
lic  and  Private  Worship,  issued  in  1795. 
The  book  is  notable  among  hymnologists  as 
having  been  one  among  the  earliest,  if  indeed 
not  the  first  of  them  all,  which  sought  to 
attach  the  names  of  the  authors  to  their  own 
compositions,  and  actually  placed  an  index  at 
the  beginning  by  which  they  could  be  identi- 
fied. Of  the  six  hundred  and  ninety  pieces 
twenty-one  are  credited  to  this  one  of  four 
compilers.  He  made  this  rather  good  Sab- 
bath invocation ;  but  one  feels  sad  to  have  to 
say  that  there  was  nothing  else  worth  having, 
for  in  faith  he  was  almost  a  Deist,  and  never 
alluded  to  the  Saviour  as  an  object  of  praise 
or  even  of  recognition.  And  yet  he  was  the 
son  of  a  Presbyterian  minister  in  Ipswich, 
England;  was  born  in  1748;  for  some  years 
was  settled  as  a  preacher  in  London ;  then 
afterward  at  Leeds  he  labored  ten  years  and 
retired  from  active  service.  He  died  at  Fry- 
erning,  Essex,  in  the  year  1833.  His  hymn  has 
been  much  altered  since. 

4 1  Christian  Outlook.  S.  M. 

Now  let  our  voices  join 

To  raise  a  sacred  song : 
Ye  pilgrims  !  in  Jehovali's  ways, 

With  music  pass  along. 

3    See — flowers  of  paradise, 

In  rich  profusion  spring  ; 
The  sun  of  glory  gilds  the  path, 

And  dear  companions  sing. 

3  See — Salem's  golden  spires, 
In  beauteous  prospect,  rise  ; 

And  brighter  crowns  than  mortals  wear. 
Which  spyarkle  through  the  skies. 

4  All  honor  to  his  name 
Who  marks  tlie  shining  way. 

To  him.  who  leads  the  pilgrims  on 
To  realnts  of  endless  day. 

It  was  the  habit  of  Dr.  Philip  Doddridge, 
the  author  of  this  hymn,  to  throw  the  leading 
thoughts  of  each  of  his  sermons  into  the  form 
of  stanzas.  These  he  would  often  give  out  to 
the  congregation  as  a  hymn  to  be  sung  after 
he  had  finished  preaching.  Thus  they  ser\"ed 
as  a  vehicle  of  praise  and  prayer,  and  at  the 
same  time  remained  in  their  memories  as  a 


OPENING  OF  SERVICE. 


25 


compend  of  truth  and  doctrine.  Of  course, 
it  was  to  be  expected  that-  hymns  produced  in 
such  a  methodical  manner  would  be  deficient 
in  poetic  fervor  and  sometimes  be  didacti- 
cally commonplace.  Of  Dr.  Doddridge's 
poems  generally  Mr.  S.  W.  Duffield  has  rea- 
son in  saying :  "  They  frequently  drop  from 
great  heights  of  pure  devotion  into  prosaic  or 
commonplace  expressions."  It  is  true  also 
that  his  hymns  have  needed  more  pruning 
and  more  changes  than  most  of  the  older 
productions  of  his  contemporaries.  But  it 
must  be  admitted  also  that  some  of  his  pieces 
rank  very  high  in  spiritual  and  literary  merit. 
Dr.  Doddridge  composed  four  of  the  one 
hundred  and  five  lyrics  of  the  first  grade,  pro- 
nounced such  by  the  entire  Anglican  Church. 
Of  his  pieces  Dr.  James  Hamilton  wrote  in 
the  North  British  Review :  "  If  amber  is  the 
gum  of  fossil  trees,  fetched  up  and  floated  off 
by  the  ocean,  hymns  like  these  are  a  spiritual 
amber.  Most  of  the  sermons  to  which  they 
originally  pertained  have  disappeared  for  ever ; 
but,  at  once  beautiful  and  buoyant,  these  sa- 
cred strains  are  destined  to  carry  the  devout 
emotions  of  Doddridge  to  every  shore  where 
his  Master  is  loved  and  where  his  mother- 
tongue  is  spoken." 

This  hymn  before  us  appears,  in  the  collec- 
tion of  his  poetry  made  in  1755,  as  No.  69, 
and  bears  the  title  of  "  Singing  in  the  Ways 
of  God."  It  has  six  stanzas  and  is  founded 
upon  Psalm  1 38 : 5  :  "  Yea,  they  shall  sing  in 
the  ways  of  the  Lord ;  for  great  is  the  glory 
of  the  Lord."  It  is  his  challenge  and  his  in- 
vitation to  Christian  pilgrims  that  they  shall 
"  with  music  pass  along."  He  gave  them  in 
all  three  hundred  and  sixty-four  hymns  for 
their  prompting  and  their  use.  Of  these 
James  Montgomery  wrote :  "  They  shine  in 
the  beauty  of  holiness  ;  these  offsprings  of  his 
mind  are  arrayed  in  the  '  fine  linen,  pure  and 
white,  which  is  the  righteousness  of  saints,' 
and,  like  the  saints,  they  are  lovely  and  accept- 
able, not  for  their  human  merit,  for  in  poetry 
and  eloquence  they  are  frequently  deficient, 
but  for  that  fervent  unaffected  love  to  God, 
his  service,  and  his  people,  which  distin- 
guishes them." 


42  Psalm  63. 

My  God  !  permit  my  tongue 
This  joy,  to  call  thee  mine; 

And  let  my  early  cries  prevail 
To  taste  thy  love  divine. 

2  My  thirsty  fainting  soul 
Thy  mercy  doth  implore  ; 

Not  travelers,  in  desert  lands, 
Can  pant  for  water  more. 

3  For  life,  without  thy  love, 
No  relish  can  afford  ; 

No  joy  can  be  compared  to  this, 
To  serve  and  please  the  Lord. 


S.  M. 


4  In  wakeful  hours  at  night 
I  call  my  God  to  mind  ; 

1  think  how  wise  thy  counsels  are, 
And  all  thy  dealings  kind. 

5  Since  thou  hast  been  my  help, 
To  thee  my  spirit  flies ; 

And,  on  thy  watchful  providence. 
My  cheerful  hope  relies. 

6  The  shadow  of  thy  wings 
My  soul  in  safety  keeps ; 

I  follow  where  my  Father  leads, 
And  he  supports  my  steps. 

Dr.  Isaac  Watts  has  given  a  version  of 
Psalm  63,  S.  M.,  in  eight  stanzas,  entitled 
"  Seeking  God,"  from  which  this  selection  is 
taken.  Rev.  Charles  H.  Spurgeon,  in  com- 
menting upon  this  old  temple-song  of  David, 
remarks  :  "  There  is  not  a  place  beneath  which 
the  believer  walks  that  is  free  from  danger. 
Behind  every  tree  there  is  an  Indian  with  an 
arrow  barbed,  behind  every  bush  is  the  lion 
seeking  to  devour,  under  every  piece  of  grass 
there  lies  the  adder.  Yet  the  Christian  work- 
er goes  calmly  on,  knowing  that  his  Lord  will 
direct  his  course ;  he  follows  where  his  Father 
leads,  and  he  directs  his  steps.  Arrows  can- 
not pierce  him,  lions  cannot  devour  him,  ad- 
ders cannot  injure  him,  unless  it  is  the  divine 
will,  and  their  bringing  death  to  him  would 
only  usher  him  into  the  presence  of  his  Lord, 
to  go  no  more  out  for  ever." 

43  Psalm  84.  S.  M. 

Welcome,  sweet  day  of  rest. 

That  saw  the  Lord  arise  ! 
Welcome  to  this  reviving  breast 

And  these  rejoicing  eyes. 

2  The  King  himself  comes  near. 
And  feasts  his  saints  to-day  ; 

Here  may  we  sit  and  see  him  here. 
And  love,  and  praise,  and  pray. 

3  One  day,  amid  the  place 
Where  my  dear  Lord  hath  been, 

Is  sweeter  than  ten  thousand  days 
Within  the  tents  of  sin. 

4  My  willing  soul  would  stay 
In  such  a  frame  as  this, 

And  sit  and  sing  herself  away 
To  everlasting  bliss. 

Dr.  Isaac  Watts  has  placed  this  familiar 
song  among  his  hymns  as  No.  14,  in  Book  II.; 
it  is  there  entitled  "  The  Lord's  Day  ;  or.  De- 
light in  Ordinances."  It  has  four  stanzas, 
and  the  date  of  its  composition  is  1707.  It 
is  evidently  founded  upon  Psalm  84,  and 
might  very  legitimately  be  considered  at  least 
a  paraphrase  of  one  part  of  it. 

44  Jesus  Intercedes.  7s. 

To  thy  temple  we  repair ; 
Lord,  we  love  to  worship  there, 
When  within  the  vail  we  meet 
Thee  upon  thy  mercy-seat. 

2    While  thy  glorious  name  is  sung. 
Tune  our  lips — uidoo'se  our  tongue  ; 
Then  our  joyful  souls  shall  bleFS 
Thee,  the  Lord  our  Righteousness. 


26 


OPENING   OF   SERVICE. 


3  While  to  thee  our  prayers  ascend, 
Let  tliine  ear  in  love  attend  ; 

Hear  us,  for  thy  Spirit  i)leads — 
Hear,  for  Jesus  intercedes. 

4  While  thy  word  is  heard  with  awe, 
While  we  tremble  at  thy  law, 

Let  tliy  gospel's  wondrous  love 
Every  doubt  and  fear  remove. 

5  From  thy  house  when  we  return 
Let  our  hearts  within  us  burn  ; 
That  at  evening  we  may  say, 

"  We  have  walked  with  (iod  to-day." 

Here  again  we  find  the  exquisite  simplicity 
of  James  Montgomery  in  the  transferring  of 
Scripture  language  to  the  cadences  of  meter 
and  the  rhythm  of  lyrical  music.  This  piece 
is  not  a  translation  of  actual  poetr}'  of  any 
part  of  the  Bible,  but  the  grouping  of  Scrip- 
tural expressions  with  a  rare  felicity  and  skill 
in  the  accommodation  of  phraseology  and 
sentiment  to  the  uses  of  the  house  of  God. 
It  comes  out  of  the  Original  Hymns;  there 
it  is  No.  115,  and  consists  of  seven  stanzas. 
Some  alterations  have  been  made  in  the  third 
and  fourth  verses,  but  it  is  still  given  with  the 
old  title,  "  A  day  in  the  Lord's  Courts." 


45  "  Thy  Face  We  Seek."  7s. 

Lord,  we  come  before  thee  now. 
At  thy  feet  we  humbly  bow  ; 
Oh,  do  not  our  suit  disdain  ! 
,  Shall  we  seek  thee.  Lord,  in  vain? 

2  Lord,  on  thee  our  souls  depend, 
In  compassion  now  descend  ; 
Fill  our  hearts  with  thy  rich  grace, 
Tune  our  lips  to  sing  thy  praise. 

3  In  thine  own  appointed  way 
Now  we  seek  thee  ;  here  we  stay ; 
Lord,  we  know  not  how  to  go 
Till  a  blessing  thou  bestow. 

4  Comfort  those  who  weep  and  mourn ; 
Let  the  time  of  joy  return  ; 
Those  that  are  cast  down  lift  up  ; 
Mnke  them  strong  in  faith  and  hope. 

5  Grant  that  all  may  seek  and  find 
Thee  a  God  supremely  kind  ; 
Heal  the  sick  :  the  captive  free ; 
Let  us  all  rejoice  in  thee. 

This  is  one  of  the  brightest  and  best  of  the' 
hymns  of  the  Rev.  William  Hammond,  an 
English  Moravian  Methodist  minister,  who 
died  in  1 783.  It  was  published  in  his  Psalms, 
Hymns,  and  Spiritual  Songs  in  1745,  and  is 
entitled  "  A  Hymn  to  be  Sung  at  Public  Wor- 
ship." 

Here,  again,  we  find  the  figure  of  Jacob's 
wrestling  with  the  angel.  One  of  the  verses 
reminds  us  very  strikingly  of  the  same  senti- 
ment and  the  same  meter  given  in  the  hymn 
often  quoted  from  John  Newton.  It  is  inter- 
esting to  notice  how  this  picturesque  simile 
has  been  caught  up  and  swept  on  over  an  ex-  47 
tensive  region  in  the  East.  Even  those  erratic 
bands  of  Dervishes  whose  devotions  meet  the 
tourist's   eye    almost    everywhere   in    Egypt 


have  chosen  the  wrestle  as  their  pattern  in 
worship ;  for  that  is  what  they  are  trying  to 
do  in  their  dances ;  these  whirling  motions 
are  nothing  more  or  less  than  prayers.  The 
devotees  are  trv'ing  intelligently  to  give  physi- 
cal embodiment  to  their  supplications.  They 
consider  they  are  praying  to  God  in  passion 
of  wistful  desire  whfen  they  are  putting  forth 
such  hideous  dislocations  of  their  limbs,  such 
grotesqueness  of  grimace,  such  contortions  of 
person.  Never  was  a  worse  caricature.  God 
does  not  desire  sinewy  writhings,  or  dismal 
shoutings,  or  vile  defilement  of  dust  and  per- 
spiration. It  was  not  Jacob's  athletic  struggle 
that  constituted  his  entreaty ;  he  wept  while 
he  was  wrestling ;  and  yet  it  was  not  the 
weeping.  In  the  moment  of  the  heaviest  and 
most  excited  muscular  energy  there  was  a 
spiritual  exercise  quite  distinct  from  it,  though 
figured  by  it ;  and  it  was  in  the  spiritual  feel- 
ing that  the  whole  prayer  resided. 

46  Psalm  23.  7s. 

To  thy  pastures  fair  and  large, 
Heavenly  Shepherd,  lead  thy  charge, 
And  my  couch,  with  tenderest  care, 
'Mid  the  springing  grass  prepare. 

2  When  I  faint  with  summer's  heat. 
Thou  shalt  guide  my  weary  feet 
To  the  streams  that,  still  and  slow. 
Through  the  verdant  meadows  flow. 

3  Safe  the  dreary  vale  I  tread. 
By  the  shades  of  death  o'erspread. 
With  thy  rod  and  staff  supplied, 
This  my  guard — and  that  my  guide. 

4  Constant  to  my  latest  end 
Thou  my  footsteps  shalt  attend  ; 
And  shalt  bid  thy  hallowed  donve 
Yield  me  an  eternal  home. 

Rev.  James  Merrick  was  a  clergyman  of 
the  Church  of  England,  but  his  health  was 
insuflficient  for  the  labor  of  the  pastoral  office, 
and  so  it  is  not  known  that  he  ever  received  a 
charge.  He  was  born  January  8,  1720,  at 
Reading,  in  Berkshire,  entered  Trinity  College 
in  Oxford,  where  he  graduated  with  credit. 
Most  of  his  life  was  devoted  to  literary  pur- 
suits, and  he  published  some  books,  theologi- 
cal and  classical.  In  1765  he  issued  his  work, 
T/ie  Psalms  Translated  or  Paraphrased  in 
English  Verse.  It  is  in  this  that  the  present 
version  of  the  twenty-third  Psalm  is  found. 
The  critics  have  mercilessly  ridiculed  his  at- 
tempts, both  in  this  direction  and  in  prose,  as 
"  tame,  florid,  and  insipid."  Only  two  or 
three,  and  these  much  altered,  of  all  these 
laborious  lyrics  of  his  have  lived  to  our  day. 
He  died  at  Reading,  January'  5,  1769. 


Twilight. 

SorTLV  fades  the  twilight  ray 
Of  the  holy  Sabbath  day  ; 
Gently  as  life's  setting  sun  • 

Wheii  the  Christian's  cour=e  is  run. 


OPENING  OF  SERVICE. 


27 


2  Peace  is  on  the  world  abroad  ; 
'T  is  the  holy  peace  of  God — 
Symbol  of  the  peace  within 
When  the  spirit  rests  from  sin. 

3  Still  the  Spirit  lingers  near, 
Where  the  evening  worshiper 
Seeks  communion  with  the  skies, 
Pressing  onward  to  the  prize. 

4  Saviour  I  may  our  Sabbaths  be 
Days  of  joy  and  peace  in  thee, 
Till  in  heaven  our  souls  repose, 
Where  the  Sabbath  ne'er  shall  close. 


REV.   S.    F.   SMITH,  D.  D. 

Rev.  Samuel  Francis  Smith,  D.  D.,  is  a 
minister  of  the  American  Baptist  Church. 
He  composed  this  beautiful  hymn  in  1832, 
and  published  it,  with  other  excellent  contri- 
butions, in  the  Psalmist,  a  denominational 
collection  of  wide  circulation,  of  which  he  was 
one  of  the  editors,  in  1843.  The  venerable 
author  was  born  in  Boston,  Mass.,  October 
21,  1808.  He  graduated  at  Harvard  College 
in  1829,  where  he  was  a  classmate  of  Oliver 
Wendell  Holmes,  and  at  Andover  Seminary 
in  1832.  His  golden  wedding  was  observed 
September  16,  1884,  at  Newton  Center,  Mass.. 
where  he  now  resides.  He  has  filled  the  office 
of  pastor,  editor,  and  professor,  and  been  use- 
ful and  honored  in  every  position.  So  hale 
and  hearty  is  he  still,  after  having  almost 
crossed  the  century,  that  those  of  us  who 
know  and  love  him  hope  he  may  live  to  see 
the  opening  years  of  another  which  we  are 
soon  to  hail  as  the  twentieth.  A  popular 
journal  has  said  of  him  that  he  has  "  a  full 
head  of  hair,  with  puffs  around  the  ears,  a 
pair  of  keen  gray  eyes,  and  a  ring  beard  that 
is  almost  entirely  white,"  a  description  which 
his  portrait  verifies.  He  had  a  fair  st?rt  in 
literary  life,  for  his  famous  friend.  Dr.  Holmes, 


once  described  him  in  a  class  poem — such  as 
he  knows  how  to  write — thus : 

■■'  And  there  's  a  fine  youngster  of  excellent  pith  ; 
Fate  tried  to  conceal  him  by  naming  him  Smith." 

He  has  made  the  position  honorable  by  an 
industrious  and  faithful  life,  and  now  rests  on 
what  he  has  won. 

43  "  First  of  Days."  ys. 

On  this  day,  the  first  of  days, 
God  the  Father's  name  we  praise, 
Who,  creation's  Fount  and  Spring, 
Did  the  world  from  darkness  bring. 

2  On  this  day  the  Eternal  Son 
Over  death  his  triumph  won  ; 
On  this  day  the  Spirit  came 
With  his  gifts  of  living  flame. 

3  Father,  who  didst  fashion  me 
Image  of  thyself  to  be, 

Fill  me  with  thy  love  divine, 
Let  my  every  thought  be  thine. 

4  Holy  Jesus,  may  I  be 

Dead  and  buried  here  with  thee ; 
And,  by  love  inflamed,  arise 
Unto  thee  a  sacrifice. 

_  5  Thou  who  dost  all  gifts  impart, 
~  Shine,  sweet  Spirit,  in  my  heart; 

r.cst  of  gifts,  thyself,  bestow  ; 

Make  me  burn  thy  love  to  know. 

Rev.  Sir  Henry  Williams  Baker  was  an  Enr^- 
lish  baronet,  and  a  clerg^'man  of  the  Church 
of  England.  He  was  born  in  London,  May 
27,  1821  ;  educated  at  Trinity  College,  Cam- 
bridge, graduating  in  1844;  becoming  the 
vicar  of  Monkland  in  Herefordshire  in  1851. 
He  died  at  Monkland,  February  12,  1877.  He 
was  the  chairman  of  the  committee  that  com- 
piled Hymns,  Ancient  aiid  Modern,  from 
which  this  hymn  was  taken,  and  for  which  it 
was  prepared  with  others ;  all  of  these  are  of 
the  highest  excellence.  This  is  a  translation, 
by  some  critics  thought  to  be  the  only  one, 
certainly  the  first,  of  the  Latin  hymn.  Die 
parente  temporiim,  found  in  the  Bre^iiary  of 
Le  Mans. 


49  Morning. 

Christ,  whose  glory  fills  the  skies, 
Christ,  the  true,  the  only  light. 

Sun  of  Righteousness,  arise. 
Triumph  o'er  the  shades  of  niglit ; 

Dayspring  from  on  high,  be  near, 

Daystar,  in  my  heart  appear. 

2  Dark  and  chi-erless  is  the  morn, 
If  thy  light  is  hid  from  me; 

Joyless  is  the  day's  return 

Till  thy  mercy's  beams  I  see, 
Till  they  inward  light  impart. 
Warmth  and  gladness  to  my  heart. 

3  Visit,  then,  this  soul  of  mine. 
Pierce  the  gloom  of  sin.  and  grief; 

Fill  me,  radiant  Sun  divine  ! 

Scatter  all  my  unbelief; 
More  and  more  thyself  display, 
Shining  10  the  perfect  day. 


7S,  61. 


28 


OPENING   OF  SERVICE. 


Even  the  Methodist  hymn-book  seems  to 
be  wrestling  over  this  hymn,  although  it  is 
given  on  page  24  of  Hymns  and  Sacred 
Poems  by  Rev.  Charles  Wesley.  It  was 
printed  for  a  long  time  in  Toplady's  volume 
as  if  it  had  been  his ;  but  some  good  Wes- 
leyan  brother  found  out  that  Toplady  was 
born  in  1740,  and  that  was  the  date  of  publi- 
cation on  the  title-page  of  Wesley's  book. 
And  then  no  less  a  man  than  Dr.  Morley 
Punshon  quoted  it  in  one  of  his  sermons, 
which  were  printed,  ascribing  it  to  Sir  Robert 
Grant.  The  fact  is,  there  was  one  stanza, 
put  first  in  the  old  hymn-book,  and  begin- 
ning, "  Oh,  disclose  thy  lovely  face,"  which 
was  not  of  any  special  value,  but  the  rather 
got  in  the  way  of  the  rest  of  the  hymn  and 
blocked  the  frequent  choice  of  it.  Nobody 
knows  who  wrote  those  lines  or  how  they  in 
the  lirst  instance  found  their  way  into  Charles 
Wesley's  poetry.  He  never  wrote  them,  and 
when  they  were  discarded  at  last  every  true 
singer  discovered  what  a  fine  lyric  had  come 
out  all  at  once  into  popularity  and  use.  The 
three  verses  will  be  found  full  of  the  sunshine 
of  which  they  sing. 

50  Event nr^.  7s,  61. 

Now,  from  labor  and  from  care, 
Evening  shades  have  set  me  free  ; 

In  the  work  of  praise  and  prayer. 
Lord  !  I  would  converse  with  thee: 

Oh,  behold  me  from  above, 

Fill  me  with  a  Saviour's  love. 

2  Sin  and  sorrow,  guilt  and  woe, 
Wither  all  my  earthly  joys  ; 

Naught  can  charm  me  here  below 
But  my  Saviour's  melting  voice: 
Lord  !  forgive — thy  grace  restore, 
Make  me  thine  for  evermore. 

3  For  the  blessings  of  this  day, 
For  the  mercies  of  this  hour, 

For  the  gospel's  cheering  ray, 

For  the  Spirit's  quickening  power. 
Grateful  notes  to  thee  I  raise  ; 
Oh,  accept  my  song  of  praise. 

This  is  one  of  the  hymns  which  Dr.  Thomas 
Hastings  gave  to  the  churches  in  his  Spz'r- 
itual  So7tgs  in  1831.  It  is  characterized  by 
the  whole  spirit  of  that  good  man,  grateful, 
meditative,  devout.  The  tune  "  Halle,"  to 
which  it  is  generally  set,  was  arranged  by 
him  also  from  the  same  air  which  has  proved 
so  useful  and  popular  in  the  modern  piece  of 
music  in  an  English  hymnal  now  known  as 
"  Hursley ;"  but  this  in  six  lines  sevens  was 
published  and  sung  all  over  our  country  many 
years  before  that. 

Thomas  Hastings,  Mus.  Doc,  was  born 
in  W^ashington,  Conn.,  October  15,  1784. 
Twelve  years  afterward  his  parents  removed 
to  Centra!  New  York  in  sleighs  and  ox-sleds, 
for  that  region,  now  famous  as  the  institu- 


DR.  THOMAS   HASTINGS. 


tion  of  Hamilton  College  can  make  it,  was 
then  an  unbroken  wilderness.  In  the  winter- 
time, set  free  from  the  labors  of  farm-life, 
this  courageous  boy  used  to  go  six  miles  daily 
to  school  on  foot.  While  in  his  earliest  child- 
hood he  began  to  study  music.  Soon  he  was 
in  a  village  choir,  then  he  was  teaching  music 
in  a  school,  then  he  took  it  up  as  a  profes- 
sion. In  1 81 6  he  compiled,  with  such  help 
as  he  could  get,  his  famous  Musica  Sacra. 
Then  he  went  to  Troy,  and  by-and-by  to 
Albany,  having  charge  of  choirs  and  congre- 
gations. Before  long  he  became  the  editor  of 
a  religious  paper  in  Utica,  The  Recorder,  but 
he  never  gave  up  his  music.  In  1832  he  re- 
moved to  New  York  city,  twelve  churches 
uniting  to  give  him  support.  There  he  re- 
mained all  the  rest  of  his  life  issuing  books 
and  composing  hymns.  He  published  a  little 
volume  of  consumrhate  merit  for  that  day, 
called  Spiritual  Songs,  in  1831,  for  an  old 
copy  of  which  one  has  to  offer  a  reward  now. 
He  wrote  more  than  six  hundred  hymns,  and 
in  1836  published  his  Christian  Psalmist. 
After  a  while  he  was  associated  with  William 
B.  Bradbury,  and  issued  several  books  of 
tunes  and  anthems  with  him.  He  and  his 
son,  the  Rev.  Thomas  S.  Hastings,  D.  D., 
now  the  honored  President  of  Union  Theo- 
logical Seminary,  compiled  a  hymnal  called 
Church  Melodies,  a  manual  for  congrega- 
tional singing,  with  tunes  adapted  to  the 
hymns  printed  on  the  pages,  and  it  was  re- 
ceived widely  into  use.     Thus  he  lived  indus- 


OPENING  OF   SERVICE. 


29 


triously,  and  the  college  degree  of  Doctor  of 
Music  came  to  him  unsought,  and  all  of  God's 
people  of  every  name  loved  and  honored  him. 
He  had  a  strange  affection  of  his  eyes,  which 
hindered  him  and  gave  him  trouble ;  he  was 
always  tryingly  near-sighted.  But  he  was 
cheerful  even  in  his  old  age,  glad  in  the  home 
that  was  faithfully  furnished  him  by  his  son. 
It  was  that  son,  under  whose  roof  his  failing 
years  were  passed,  who  said  of  him :  "  He 
was  a  devout  and  earnest  Christian,  a  hard 
student,  and  a  resolute  worker,  not  laying 
aside  his  pen  until  three  days  before  his  death, 
which  came  to  his  relief  in  his  eighty-eighth 
year.  May  15,  1872."  His  monument  is  his 
music  ;  this  man  made  the  tune  for  "  Rock  of 
Ages." 

5  I  Psalm  42.  7s,  61. 

As  tlie  hart,  with  eager  looks, 
Paiiteth  for  the  water-brooks, 
So  my  soul,  athirst  for  thee, 
Pants  the  living  God  to  see  ; 
When,  oh,  when,  with  filial  fear. 
Lord,  shall  I  to  thee  draw  near? 

2    Why  art  thou  cast  down,  my  soul  ? 
God,  thy  God,  shall  make  thee  whole  ; 
Why  art  thou  disquieted  ? 
God  shall  lift  thy  fallen  head. 
And  his  countenance  benign 
Be  the  saving  health  of  thme. 

There  are  several  renderings  of  Psalm  42  in 
commoii  use,  of  which  that  by  Nahum  Tate 
and  that  by  Henry  Francis  Lyte  are  perhaps 
the  best  known.  This  of  James  Montgomery 
is  another  of  the  same  tone  and  nearly  in  the 
same  language.  He  has  two  versions  of  it, 
each  consisting  of  four  stanzas,  found  in  his 
Original  Hymns.  This  is  No.  96,  and  is  en- 
titled "  Longing  for  the  Courts  of  the  Lord's 
House."  Perhaps  no  testimony  to  the  grace 
of  our  English  Bible  could  be  given  better 
than  this  disclosure,  made  unconsciously  by 
three  poets  of  the  highest  class,  that  the  words 
fall  into  rhythm  and  meter  almost  at  once  and 
without  effort  the  moment  they  undertake  to 
fashion  it  for  musical  service. 


52  "  Mercies  New." 

Every  morning  mercies  new 
Fall  as  fresh  as  early  dew  ; 
Every  morning  let  us  pay 
Tribute  with  the  early  day  ; 
For  thy  mercies,  Lord,  are  sure  : 
Thy  compassion  doth  endure. 

2  Still  the  greatness  of  thy  love 
Daily  doth  our  sins  remove; 
Daily,  far  as  east  to  west, 

Lifts  the  burden  from  the  breast ; 
Gives  unbought  to  those  who  pray 
Strength  to  stand  in  evil  day. 

3  Let  our  prayers  each  morn  prevail, 
That  these  gifts  may  never  fail ; 
And,  as  we  confess  the  sin 

And  the  tempter's  power  within, 
Feed  us  with  the  bread  of  life ; 
Fit  us  for  our  daily  strife. 


7s,  61. 


4    As  the  morning  light  returns. 
As  the  sun  with  splendor  burns. 
Teach  us  still  to  turn  to  thee. 
Ever-blessed  Trinity, 
With  our  hands  our  hearts  to  raise 
In  unfailing  prayer  and  praise. 

We  have  been  for  many  years,  and  in  sev- 
eral compilations,  crediting  this  hymn  to  Dr. 
Horatius  Bonar.  But  the  Dictionary  of 
Hymnology  states  explicitly  that  it  was  com- 
posed by  Rev.  Greville  Phillimore,  who  was 
born  in  1 82 1 ,  and  died  Januarj'  20,  1 884.  He 
graduated  at  Oxford,  1842,  and  entered  the 
English  Church  in  1843,  becoming  rector  of 
Henley-on-Thames,  1867;  and  of  Ewelme, 
1883.  The  same  authority  adds  that  the 
piece  began,  "  Every  morning  they  are  new," 
and  was  published  first  in  The  Parish  Hymn- 
Book,  1863. 

We  give  this  information  with  a  loyal  be- 
lief in  its  probable  accuracy.  But  we  feel  un- 
willing to  break  up  our  associations  at  pres- 
ent with  a  hymn  so  closely  allied  with  a  name 
so  much  beloved. 


REV.    HORAUUS   BONAR,  D.  U. 

Dr.  Horatius  Bonar  was  born  at  Edin- 
burgh, December  19,  1808.  His  ancestors 
for  several  generations  were  ministers  of  the 
Church  of  Scotland.  He  received  his  early 
education  at  the  high  school  and  University 
of  Edinburgh.  In  youth  he  devoted  himself 
to  the  service  of  God,  and  chose  the  Christian 


3° 


OPENING  OF  SERVICE. 


ministry  to  be  his  life-work.  He  was  fortu- 
nate in  having  Dr.  Chalmers  for  a  teacher.  The 
lessons  taught  him  by  that  divine  were  doubly 
helpful ;  they  laid  the  foundation  of  the  solid 
learning  which  advanced  with  growing  years, 
and  they  filled  him  with  the  enthusiasm  of  a 
master-mind  consecrated  to  the  highest  aims. 
The  value  of  such  a  training  can  hardly  be 
overestimated.  It  gave  tone  and  strength  to 
a  life  when  most  susceptible  of  influence. 

In  1837  the  student  became  a  minister. 
His  sphere  of  labor  was  the  famous  old  town 
of  Kelso,  situated  on  the  banks  of  the  Tweed, 
and  surrounded  by  a  country  celebrated  in 
song  and  tale.  He  gave  himself  up  to  his 
work  with  unflagging  assiduity.  In  the  pul- 
pit he  preached  with  fire  and  unction  ;  and  in 
house-to-house  visitation  he  proved  himself 
the  comforter  of  the  sorrowful  and  the  guide 
of  the  perplexed. 

Varied  and  numerous  as  were  the  calls  on 
his  time,  he  managed  to  spare  some  hours  to 
edit  the  Presbyterian,  a  magazine  which  did 
yeoman  service  for  evangelical  truth  in  its 
day.  This  was  the  literary  apprenticeship  of 
the  skilled  writer.  He  loved  to  handle  the 
pen,  but  his  chief  joy  lay  in  preaching.  The 
impulses  which  he  got  from  his  teacher  were 
deepened  by  his  fellowship  with  the  saintly 
McCheyne,  of  Dundee.  A  great  revival  had 
sprung  up  in  Dundee.  The  Spirit  of  God 
was  poured  forth  and  many  souls  were  saved. 
A  tide  of  blessing  swept  through  the  land. 
Mr.  Bonar  entered  heartily  into  the  movement 
and  helped  to  spread  it.  He  spared  not  him- 
self in  his  effort  to  carry  the  gospel  to  the 
perishing.  At  home  and  from  home  he  spoke 
as  a  dying  man  to  dying  men.  The  result 
was  many  conversions.  This  success  did  not 
satisfy  him.  He  washed  to  do  more.  He 
thought  his  pen  could  reach  those  beyond  his 
voice,  so  he  wrote  "  The  Kelso  Tracts."  His 
aim  was  threefold— to  warn  the  careless,  to 
put  salvation  simply,  and  to  edify  saints. 
These  messengers  of  life  entered  hundreds  of 
homes  and  were  eagerly  read.  They  were 
not  arrows  sent  at  random,  but  struck  with 
convincing  power.  Their  circulation  in  Scot- 
land and  England  was  very  large ;  and  they 
met  with  a  warm  reception  in  America.  Their 
work  is  not  yet  ended,  for  to  this  day  they  are 
blessed  of  God. 

The  disruption  came,  and  brought  with  it 
stirring  changes.  Some  ministers  were  per- 
plexed, but  Mr.  Bonar  was  not.  He  cast  in 
his  lot  at  once  with  the  Free  Church.  He 
had  not,  like  most  of  his  brethren,  to  leave  his 
church  on  leavinsf  th;  denomination.  It  was 
secured  to  him  and  his  congregation  by  some 


clauses  in  the  title  deeds.  As  the  years  rolled 
on  it  became  increasingly  a  center  of  light 
and  usefulness.  Its  pulpit  gave  forth  no  un- 
certain sound,  but  declared  fully  the  faith  de- 
livered to  the  saints.  Its  people  were  full  of 
zeal  and  good  works.  Fired  by  their  pastor's 
example,  they  followed  him  as  he  followed  the 
Master. 

The  years  of  the  Kelso  ministry  flowed 
smoothly.  They  had  not  much  in  them  of 
external  interest,  but  they  were  full  of  good 
work  well  done.  In  the  pulpit,  in  the  study, 
and  at  the  fireside,  the  minister  showed  him- 
self worthy  of  his  high  calling.  He  did  not 
seek  earthly  honor,  but  it  came  to  him.  His. 
name  got  to  be  a  household  word,  and  his 
writings  won  a  high  place  in  the  devotional 
literature  of  the  century.  Few  "  poets  of  the 
sanctuary  "  have  done  more  than  Dr.  Bonar 
in  enriching  our  hymnal  treasury  with  those 
gems  of  truth  and  power  which  will  be  the 
heirlooms  of  the  church  until  the  songs  of  the 
earthly  Zion  are  exchanged  for  the  melodies 
of  heaven.  There  is  not  a  land  where  the 
English  language  is  spoken  in  which  Dr. 
Bonar's  hymns  are  not  household  words. 

As  his  reputation  grew  efforts  were  made 
to  lead  him  to  a  larger  sphere.  Such  efforts 
were  unsuccessful  till,  in  1865,  a  handsome 
new  church  was  built  in  that  suburb  of  Edin- 
burgh called  The  Grange.  He  was  asked  to 
fill  its  pulpit,  and  he  consented.  Like-minded 
men  and  women  flocked  around  him ;  and 
for  twenty-four  years  he  ministered  to  them. 
Few  visitors  to  Edinburgh  have  missed  the 
opportunity  of  hearing  him  preach.  They 
might  go  out  of  curiosity  to  see  and  listen  to 
the  sweet  singer,  but  they  were  not  long  in 
the  pew  before  they  forgot  the  poet  in  the 
preacher.  The  opening  prayer  lifted  them 
into  the  presence  of  God,  and  there  they  re- 
mained as  the  rich  voice  went  on  to  speak  of 
a  love  stronger  than  death,  and  of  the  deep 
experiences  of  Christian  living.  A  Sabbath 
at  The  Grange  is,  as  we  have  reason  to  know, 
a  treasured  memory  to  many  tourists. 

Thus  he  lived  on  for  a  splendid  score  of 
years.  He  had  at  last  to  secure  an  assistant, 
but  the  people  would  not  let  him  retire.  He 
grew  to  be  very  old.  They  celebrated  his 
jubilee  when  he  was  fourscore.  He  died  at 
home  in  Edinburgh,  July  31,  1889.  The  ser- 
vices were  held  in  the  Chalmers  Memorial 
Church,  which  was  thronged.  Rev.  Mr. 
Sloan,  who  was  Dr.  Bonar's  colleague,  read 
the  Scriptures,  the  Rev.  George  Wilson  of  the 
Established  Church  (an  intimate  friend  of 
■  Bonar)  and  the  venerable  Principal  Cairns  of 
the  United  Presbyterian  Church  offered  im- 


OPENING  OF  SERVICE. 


31 


pressive  prayers,  and  Dr.  Cuyler,  of  Brook- 
lyn, N.  Y.,  pronounced  the  benediction.  No 
word  of  eulogy  was  offered.  He  was  buried 
there,  at  the  base  of  Calton  Hill,  and  lies  with 
his  kindred  near  the  house  of  John  Knox. 

53  Psalm  67.  7s,  61. 

On  thy  Church,  O  Power  divine, 
Cause  thy  glorious  fact?  to  shine, 
Till  the  nations  from  afar 
Hail  her  as  their  guiding  star ; 
Till  her  sons  from  zone  to  zone 
Make  thy  great  salvation  known. 

2    Then  shall  God,  with  lavish  hand. 
Scatter  blessings  o'er  the  land  ; 
Earth  shall  yield  her  rich  increase, 
Every  breeze  shall  whisper  peace, 
And  the  world's  remotest  bound 
With  the  voice  of  praise  resound. ' 

Miss  Harriet  Auber  has  given  these  two 
stanzas  as  her  version  of  Psalm  67.  They 
were  included  in  The  Spirit  of  the  Psalms, 
and  appear  never  to  have  tempted  any  altera- 
tions, and  certainly  have  never  needed  any. 
The  best  comment  upon  this  hymn  would  be 
a  simple  exposition  of  the  inspired  words  upon 
which  it  is  founded.  Christ  loved  the  Church, 
gave  himself  for  the  Church,  which  is  his 
body,  the  fullness  of  him  that  filleth  all  in  all. 
Normally  the  blessings  of  the  world  come 
through  the  Church ;  when  the  Church  is  re- 
vived and  alive  the  world  feels  it  at  once. 
When  God  makes  his  face  to  shine  on  the 
Church,  then  "  earth  will  yield  her  rich  in- 
crease." But  God  sometimes  passes  by  a 
cold  and  backslidden  church  and  reaches 
souls  who  are  perishinj,  and  converts  them 
with  a  sovereign  love.  He  thus  is  found  of 
those  who  sought  him  not. 

54  The  Sabbath.  7S,  61. 

Lord,  it  is  thy  holy  day  ; 
Here  we  meet  to  praise  and  pray  ; 
Joining  with  one  heart  and  mind, 
Earthly  cares  we  leave  behind. 
On  the  day  which  thou  hast  made 
Us  in  our  rejoicings  aid. 

2  Glad  as  when  the  glorious  shout 
Of  the  morning  stars  rang  out, 
Thee,  Creator,  will  we  praise. 
And  our  hymns  of  triumph  raise. 
Sun  and  moon,  your  songs  unite; 
Praise  him,  all  ye  stars  of  light ! 

3  Louder  yet  our  strains  be  borne. 
Mindful  of  that  happy  morn 
VVhen  the  world's  Redeemer  rose, 
Victor  from  the  grave's  repose  ; 
Who  by  death  subdued  the  grave, 
Mighty  he  our  souls  to  save. 

4  Looking  for  that  rest  above. 
For  the  Sabbath  of  thy  love, 
Here  to-day  by  hope  we  rise 
To  our  mansion  in  the  skies: 
Here  by  faith  and  Inve  prepare 
For  our  endless  Sabbath  there. 

In  1863  Rev.  Benjamin  Hall  Kennedy, 
D.  D..  published  in  London  a  volume  called 


Hymnoh^ia  Christiana.  In  that  this  hymn 
appears,  but  without  any  hint  as  to  the  au- 
thorship of  it.  This  compiler  is  now  not  liv- 
ing, and  all  inquiry  in  that  direction  ceases. 
It  needs  only  to  be  added,  although  it  does 
not  help  much,  that  for  the  use  in  Laudes 
Domini  the  copy  was  obtained  from  The  Au- 
gustine Hymn  Book,  a  hymnal  compiled  and 
published  in  London  (with  no  date  afti.xed) 
by  Rev.  David  Thomas,  D.  D.,  the  well-known 
author,  and  for  so  many  years  editor  of  the 
Homilist ;  this  hymnal  bears  on  its  title-page 
the  quotation  from  Augustine :  "  A  hymn 
must  be  praise — praise  of  God — and  this  in 
the  form  of  sone." 


55  "  -Oay  0/  Rest." 

O  DAY  of  rest  and  gladness, 

O  day  of  joy  and  light, 
O  balm  of  care  and  sadness, 

Most  beautiful,  most  hrii-ht ; 
On  thee  the  high  and  lowly. 

Bending  before  the  throne. 
Sing,  Holy,  Holy,  Holy, 

To  the  Great  Three  in  One 

2  To-day  on  weary  nations 
The  heavenly  manna  falls  ; 

To  holy  convocations 
The  silver  trumi)et  calls, 

Where  gospel  light  is  glowing 
With  pure  and  radiant  beams, 

And  livmg  water  flowing 
With  soul-refreshing  streams 

3  New  graces  evtr  gaining 
From  this  our  day  of  rest, 

We  reach  the  rest  remaining 
To  spirits  of  the  blest. 

To  Holy  Ghost  be  praises, 
To  Father  and  to  Son  ; 

The  Church  her  voice  upraises 
To  thee,  blest  Three  in  One. 


7s,  6s,  D. 


BISHOP  WORDSWORTH. 


Rev.  Christopher  Wordsworth,  D.  D.,  was 
born   in    Lambeth,  October   30,   1807  ;    was 


32 


OPENING   OF   SERVICE. 


graduated  at  Trinity  College,  Cambridge, 
England,  in  1 830 ;  was  ordained  to  the  min- 
istry in  1835  ;  was  appointed  to  the  Bishopric 
of  Lincoln  in  1869,  where  he  died,  March  20, 
1885.  He  was  the  nephew  of  William  Words- 
worth, the  poet.  He  was  scholarly,  as  is  evi- 
denced by  his  Co7nmetitary  Upon  the  Old 
Testamefit,  in  which  he  followed  the  Author- 
ized Version,  and  upon  the  A'trcu  Testament 
in  Greek.  His  writings  were  patristic  to  the 
last  degree  in  spirit  and  quotation ;  at  times 
he  was  polemic  and  not  always  courteous  to 
his  brethren  of  other  names.  He  seems,  after 
he  was  elevated  to  an  ecclesiastical  eminence 
in  the  Established  Church,  to  have  narrowed 
in  temper  and  grown  bigoted  in  feeling.  He 
made  a  deliberate  attempt  to  prevent  the 
Methodist  preachers  from  using  the  title  of 
"  Reverend,"  as  if  this  were  the  exclusive 
privilege  of  the  Episcopal  clergy.  But  he 
must  have  had  seasons  of  amiability,  for  he 
composed  some  of  the  best  hymns  that  have 
of  late  been  given  to  the  churches  at  large. 
This  one  appears  in  a  collection  he  published, 
containing  1 27  that  were  his  own ;  that  was 
called  The  Holy  Year  ;  or,  Hymtis  for  Sun- 
days, Holy  Days  and  at  her  Occasions  Through- 
cut  the  Year,  and  was  issued  in  1862.  There 
this  one  is  found  as  the  first,  with  six  stanzas. 

S6  Foretastes  of  Heaven.  7s,  6s,  D. 

The  dawn  of  God's  new  Sabbath 

Breaks  o'er  the  earth  again, 
As  some  sweet  summer  morning 

After  a  night  of  pain. 
It  comes  as  cooling  showers 

To  chesr  a  thirsting  land, 
As  shades  of  clustered  palm-trees 

'Mid  weary  wastes  of  sand. 

2  Lord,  we  would  bring  our  burden 
Of  sinful  thought  and  deed, 

In  thy  pure  presence  kneeling 

From  bondage  to  be  freed  ; 
Our  heart's  most  bitter  sorrow 

For  all  our  work  undone, 
So  many  talents  wasted. 

So  few  true  conquests  won. 

3  Yet  still,  O  Lord  long-sufferiug, 
Still  grant  us  in  our  need 

Here  in  thy  holy  presence 

The  saving  name  to  plead  ; 
And  on  thy  day  of  blessings, 

Within  thy  temple  walls, 
To  foretaste  the  pure  worship 

Of  Zion's  golden  halls: — 

4  Until  in  joy  and  gladness 
We  reach  that  home  at  last. 

When  life's  short  week  of  sorrow 

And  sin  and  strife  is  past . 
When  angel-hands  have  gathered 

The  first  ripe  fruit  for  thee, 
O  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit, 

Most  Holy  Trinity  ! 

Mrs.  Ada  Cambridge  Cross  published  in 
1866  a  book  of  poetry  entitled  Hymns  on  the 
Holy   Communion,  and,  later  on,  a  volume 


called  Hymns  on  the  Litany.  She  is  the 
daughter  of  Henry  Cambridge,  and  was  born 
at  St.  Germains,  Norfolkshire,  England,  No- 
vember 21,  1844.  She  was  in  1869  married 
to  Rev.  George  Frederick  Cross  of  Coleraine, 
Victoria,  in  Australia.  Two  years  later  her 
husband  was  ordained  to  the  ministry  of  the 
Episcopal  Church,  and  in  1877  became  the 
incumbent  of  that  parish  on  the  other  side  of 
the  world,  where  he  now  resides.  For  years 
this  hymn  bore  only  her  maiden  name,  by 
which  she  was  more  widely  known. 


57 


Cheerful  Devotion. 


7s,  6s,  D. 


Thine  holy  day's  returning 

Our  hearts  exult  to  see ; 
And  with  devotion  burning, 

Ascend,  O  God,  to  thee ! 
To-day  with  purest  pleasure 

Our  thoughts  from  earth  withdraw ; 
We  search  for  heavenly  treasure, 

We  learn  thy  holy  law. 

2    We  join  to  sing  thy  praises. 

Lord  of  the  Sabbath  day  ; 
Each  voice  in  gladness  raises 

Its  loudest,  sweetest  lay  ! 
Thy  richest  mercies  sharing. 

Inspire  us  with  thy  love, 
By  grace  our  souls  preparing 

For  nobler  praise  above. 


REV.    RAY    PALMER,  D.  D. 


Dr.  Palmer  was  born  at  Little  Compton, 
R.  L,  Nov.  12,  1808,  and  was  graduated  from 
Yale  College  in  1830;  after  his  theological 
education  was  finished  he  went  to  Bath,  Me., 
where  he  had  charge  of  the  Central  Congre- 


OPENING  OF  SERVICE. 


33 


gational  Church  for  fifteen  years.  He  was 
pastor  of  the  First  Congregational  Church  in 
Albany  from  1850  to  1865.  He  then  acted  as 
secretary  of  the  American  Congregational 
Union,  and  resided  several  years  in  New 
York  City.  Subsequently  he  was  engaged  in 
pastoral  work  in  the  Belleville  Avenue  Church 
of  Newark,  N.  J.,  until  his  death,  March  29, 
1887.  Thus  he  lived  full  of  honors,  labored 
with  unusual  success,  and  went  to  his  rest 
loved  and  v^-ept  by  all. 

This  little  hymn  has  been  made  to  suffer 
somewhat  of  late  years  from  its  close  associa- 
tion with  its  popular  neighbor,  "  O  day  of  rest 
and  gladness."  These  two  have  been  printed 
together  over  and  over  on  the  same  page,  and 
set  to  the  tune  "  Mendebras,"  ever  since  1865. 
The  compiler  of  the  Songs  for  the  Sanctu- 
ary found  Dr.  Wordsworth's  piece  upon  the 
cover  of  a  religious  tract  in  London,  and  in- 
troduced it  to  the  American  public  in  that  of 
his  earliest  popular  collection ;  and  the  page 
was  completed  by  this  of  Dr.  Ray  Palmer, 
obtained  in  manuscript.  That  page  has  done 
valiant  service  in  many  other  books  since. 

58  Humility.  8s,  7s,  4. 

While  we  lowly  bow  before  thee, 

V\'ilt  thou,  gracious  Saviour,  hear? 
We  are  poor  and  needy  sinners, 
Full  of  doubt  and  full  of  fear; 
Gracious  Saviour, 
\  Make  us  humble  and  sincere. 

2  Fill  us  with  thy  Holy  Spirit ; 
Sanctify  us  by  thy  grace; 

Oh,  incline  us  more  to  love  thee, 
And  in  dust  our  souls  abase. 

Hear  us.  Saviour, 
And  iinvail  thy  glorious  face. 

3  None  in  vain  did  ever  ask  thee 
For  the  Spirit  of  thy  love  ; 

Hear  us,  then,  dear  Saviour,  hear  us ; 
Grant  an  answer  from  above  ; 

Blessfed  Saviour, 
Hear  and  answer  from  above. 

Daniel  Clement  Colesworthy  was  a  layman 
in  the  Congregational  Church,  a  printer  by 
occupation,  and  for  a  long  time  edited  the 
Portland  Tribune.  He  removed  to  Boston 
afterwards,  and  became  known  to  the  singers 
in  our  American  Zion  by  the  publication  of  a 
diminutive  book  of  Sabbath- School  Hymns 
about  the  year  1833.  This  was  followed  by 
others,  in  which  real  merit  was  disclosed. 
He  was  born  in  Portland,  Me.,  in  18 10.  The 
present  hymn  was  chosen  from  Rev.  Elias 
Nason's  G?/A'r//<?«,  published  in  1857,  to  Which 
it  may  have  been  contributed.  It  is  a  simple, 
devout,  and  useful  prayer.  The  author  was 
still  living  in  Boston,  1885. 


Be  thou  here  in  power  and  love  ; 

Grant  thy  presence, 
Be  it  ours  thy  grace  to  prove- 

2    Nothing  have  we.  Lord,  without  thee, 

But  thy  promise  is  our  stay  ; 
And  thy  people  must  not  doiibt  thee  ; 

Saviour,  now  thy  power  display  ; 
And  let  gladness 

Fill  thy  people's  hearts  to-day. 

Another  of  Rev.  Thomas  Kelly's  hymns, 
full  of  petition  and  trust  in  God,  characterized 
by  his  best  peculiarities,  pathetic,  direct,  im- 
ploring. "  And  thy  people  must  not  doubt 
thee."     The  date  of  it  is  1840. 


60 


"  Father,  Hear  Us." 


8s,  7s,  4. 


God  Almighty  and  All-seeing! 

Holy  One,  in  whom  we  all 
Live,  and  move,  and  have  our  being, 

Hear  us  when  on  thee  we  call ; 
Father,  hear  us 

As  before  thy  throne  we  fall. 

2    Of  all  good  art  thou  the  Giver ; 

Weak  and  wandering  ones  are  we ; 
Then  for  ever,  yea,  for  ever, 

In  thy  presence  would  we  be ; 
Oh,  be  near  us. 

That  we  wander  not  from  thee. 

Rev.  John  Pierpont  was  a  Unitarian  cler- 
gyman by  profession,  well  remembered  and 
reputed  as  one  of  our  established  American 
poets.  John  Neal,  another  poet  of  fame  like 
his  own,  was  at  one  time  his  partner  in  the 
dry  goods  business  in  the  city  of  Baltimore. 
The  author  of  this  hymn  was  born  in  Litch- 
field, Conn.,  April  6,  1785  ;  he  was  graduated 
at  Yale  College  in  1804.  In  1809  he  studied 
law,  in  18 1 2  he  was  admitted  to  the  bar,  and 
practiced  for  a  while  in  Newburyport,  Mass. 
Then  for  a  season  he  went  into  trade.  In 
1 8 16  he  studied  for  the  ministry,  and  was  pas- 
tor of  the  Hollis  Street  Church  in  Boston  for 
many  years.  Subsequently  he  went  to  Troy, 
N.  Y.,  and  then  to  Medford,  Mass.,  where  he 
preached  for  ten  years  more.  In  1861  he  vol- 
unteered as  chaplain  of  a  regiment  recruited 
in  Massachusetts,  and  was  engaged  in  actual 
service  in  the  Civil  War,'  although  he  was  then 
seventy-five  years  of  age.  The  writer  of  this 
notice  was  happy  in  making  his  acquaintance 
during  one  of  his  vacations  in  the  White 
Mountains.  He  was  then  old  but  active,  full 
of  enthusiasm,  gentle  and  amiable,  wonderful 
in  conversation  and  widely  familiar  with  lit- 
erature, a  most  attractive  gentleman  of  the 
old  school  of  manners,  winning  friends  with 
all  who  learned  to  know  him.  His  death  oc- 
curred soon  after  this,  suddenly,  at  Medford. 
August  27,  1866.  His  hymns  and  his  poems 
were  of  the  first  rank  in  excellence. 


59  '' Send  Blessing." 

Saviour,  send  a  blessing  to  us, 
Send  a  blessing  from  above  ; 
All  thy  truth  and  mercy  show  us, 


8s,  7s,  4. 


6 1  Glory  to  God. 

Glory  be  to  God  the  Father, 
Glory  be  to  God  the  Son, 

Glory  be  to  God,  the  Spirit, 
Great  Jehovah,  Three  in  One: 


8s,  7s,  4. 


34 


OPENING  OF  SERVICE. 


Glory,  glory, 
While  eternal  ages  run  ! 

2  Glory  be  to  liim  who  loved  us,  ^ 
Washed  us  from  each  spot  and  stain ; 

Glory  be  to  him  who  bought  us, 
Made  us  kings  with  him  to  reign: 

Glor>',  glory 
To  the  Lauib  that  once  was  slain  ! 

3  Glory,  blessing,  praise  eternal ! 
Thus  the  ciioir  of  angels  sings; 

Honor,  riches,  power,  dominion  ! 
Thus  its  praise  creation  brings: 

Glory,  glory, 
Glory  to  the  King  of  kings. 

It  is  characteristic  for  many  truly  devout 
Christians,  like  Rev.  Dr.  Horatius  Bonar,  the 
author  of  this  hymn,  to  interrupt  the  course  of 
their  writing  or  arguing  by  a  sudden  burst  of 
simple  praise,  growing  up  out  of  the  thoughts 
with  which  their  hearts  are  distended.  To  us 
the  interjection  seems  irrelevant,  but  to  them 
it  is  a  part  of  the  actual  necessities  of  the  po- 
sition. Here  is  a  hymn  that  merely  utters  an 
ascription  of  "  Glory  to  God  "  over  and  over 
with  a  tireless  repetition.  Poetic  and  enthu- 
siastic natures  will  often  do  that.  John  gives 
a  calm  prosaic  introduction  to  the  Apocalypse ; 
but  the  moment  he  seems  to  see  the  visions 
he  has  had,  and  which  he  is  now  going  to  re- 
cord, his  pen  rushes  into  a  doxology  of  match- 
less force  and  beauty  ;  he  cannot  be  hindered, 
he  must  sing:  "  Unto  him  that  loved  us,  and 
washed  us  from  our  sins  in  his  own  blood, 
and  hath  made  us  kings  and  priests  unto  God 
and  his  Father ;  to  him  be  glory  and  domin- 
ion for  ever  and  ever.  Amen."  And  so 
Paul,  though  he  is  lost  in  the  mysteries  of 
theology,  breaks  into  a  poem  :  "  Oh,  the  depth 
of  the  riches  both  of  the  wisdom  and  knowl- 
edge of  God !  How  unsearchable  are  his 
judgments,  and  his  ways  past  finding  out !" 
We  talk  of  ejaculatory  prayer — a  habit  of  lift- 
ing brief  sentences  of  supplication  when  we 
are  so  situated  that  we  cannot  pause  for  a  re- 
treat to  our  accustomed  closets  of  devotion. 
It  might  be  to  our  spiritual  advantage  to  edu- 
cate ourselves  into  a  similar  habit  of  ejacula- 
tory adoration,  so  that  we  could  indulge  in  an 
impromptu  doxology  as  well. 

62  "  Let  Thy  Servants  Hear."  8s,  7s,  4. 

In  thy  name,  O  Lord  !  assembling, 
We,  thy  people,  now  draw  near  ; 

Teach  us  to  rejoice  with  trembling ; 
Speak,  and  let  thy  servants  bear — 

Hear  with  meekness. 
Hear  thy  word  with  godly  fear. 

2  While  our  days  on  earth  are  lengthened 
May  we  give  them.  Lord  !  to  thee  : 

Cheered  by  hope,  and  daily  strengthened, 
Mav  we  run,  nor  weary  be, 

Till  thy  glory 
Without  clouds  in  heaven  we  see. 

3  There,  in  worship  purer,  sweeter, 
'Ihee  thy  people  shall  adore ; 


Tasting  of  enjoymeiit  greater 
'1  ban  they  could  conceive  bufore  ; 

Full  enjoyment. 
Full,  unmixed,  and  evermore. 

This  hymn  was  written  by  Rev.  Thomas 
Kelly  in  I'Sis.  With  a  full  ring  of  delightful 
devotion  it  lifts  every  spiritually-minded  be- 
liever into  the  heights  of  Sabbath  praise.  It 
was  one  of  the  most  thoughtful  remarks  of 
William  E.  Gladstone  that  the  religious  ob- 
servance of  the  Lord's  Day  "  is  a  main  prop 
of  the  religious  character  of  a  country.  From 
a  moral,  social,  and  physical  point  of  view  the 
observance  of  the  Sabbath  is  a  duty  of  abso- 
lute consequence."  But  to  the  Christian  the 
observance  of  the  Sabbath  is  not  only  a  duty 
and  a  privilege,  but  the  richest  joy.  To  him 
the  Sabbath  is  a  type  of  that  rest  which  re- 
mains for  the  people  of  God,  and  he  can  say 
with  Wilberforce,  "  Oh,  what  a  blessing  is 
Sunday !  to  me  it  has  been  invaluable."  So 
careful  was  this  good  man  of  the  sacredness 
of  the  Lord's  Day  that  once,  when  the  English 
Parliament  was  fixed  to  meet  on  Monday, 
January  16, 1800,  he,  immediately  upon  hearing 
it,  wrote  to  Mr.  Percival,  and  remonstrated 
against  its  being  held  on  that  day  on  account 
of  the  Sunday  traveling  which  it  would  occa- 
sion. The  time  was  immediately  changed  to 
the  following  Thursday,  in  answer  to  his  re- 
monstrance. 

63  "Bless  the  Seed."  8s,  7s,  4. 

Come,  thou  soul-trfinsfoi  ming  Spirit, 
Bless  the  sower  and  the  seed  ; 

Let  each  heart  thy  grace  inherit ; 
Raise  the  weak,  the  hungry  feed ! 

From  the  gospel 
Now  supply  thy  people's  need. 

2    Oh,  may  all  enjoy  the  blessing 
Which  thy  word  's  designed  to  give  ; 

Let  us  all,  thy  love  possessing, 
Joyfully  the  truth  receive ; 

And  for  ever 
To  thy  praise  and  glory  live. 

Rev.  Jonathan  Evans  was  a  minister  of 
the  English  Independent  or  Congregational 
Church.  He  was  born  at  Coventry  in  1749. 
In  his  youth  he  was  an  artisan  of  the  humblest 
class  and  worked  in  a  ribbon  factory.  In  his 
character  he  seems  to  have  been  wild  and 
wicked,  and  his  life  was  of  no  credit  to  him. 
But  he  had  been  brought  up  in  ignorance,  and 
was  associated  with  profligate  companions.  In 
1776  he  was  brought  under  conviction  of  sin, 
and  turned  his  steps  towards  the  better  coun- 
sel of  the  religious  people  connected  with  the 
West  Orchard  Street  Chapel;  they  pointed 
him  to  Christ,  and  he  became  a  devoted  fol- 
lower of  Jesus  as  his  new  master.  He  was  a 
business  man,  but  he  displayed  excellent  gifts 
as  an  exhorter  and  evangelist,  and  he  was  ac- 
tive and   industrious   in  all    spiritual  work. 


OPENING   OF   SERVICE. 


35 


Before  long  he  began  to  preach.  Rev.  George 
Burder  became  the  pastor  of  that  small  con- 
gregation, and  this  young  man  delivered  the 
sermon  at  his  installation.  In  1784  he  fitted 
up  a  boat-house  on  the  bank  of  the  canal  at 
Foleshill,  near  Coventry,  and  invited  the  villa- 
gers to  come  freely  to  worship.  This  grew 
into  a  chapel,  and  when  the  church,  duly  or- 
ganized, summoned  him  to  the  care  of  it  he 
was  publicly  ordained  to  the  pastorate  which 
his  indefatigable  labors  had  made  needful. 
There  he  remained  for  the  rest  of  his  life. 
He  studied  medicine  somewhat  in  the  inter- 
vals of  his  toil,  so  that  he  could  help  the  poor 
without  need  of  charge  when  they  were  sick. 
When  Burder's  Collection  appeared  some  of 
his  pieces,  published  in  the  Gospel  Magazme, 
were  inserted.  This  one  annotated  here  was 
given  to  the  world  in  Rippon's  Selection.  He 
died  full  of  years  and  beloved  by  his  people, 
August  31,  1809. 

64  GocTs  Presence.  8s.  7s,  4. 

God  is  in  his  holy  temple  ; 

AH  the  earth,  keep  silence  here ; 
Worship  him  in  truth  and  spirit ; 

Reverence  him  with  godly  fear ; 
Holy,  holy 

Lord  of  hosts,  our  God,  appear  I 

2    God  in  Christ  reveals  his  presence. 
Throned  upon  the  mercy-seat ; 

Saints,  rejoice,  and,  sinners,  tremble  ; 
Each  prepare  his  God  to  meet ; 

Lowly,  lowly 
Bow,  adoring,  at  his  feet. 

James  Montgomery  has  given  us  a  poem  of 
four  stanzas  in  his  Original  Hymns,  from 
which  these  two  have  been  selected.  It  bears 
the  title,  "  For  the  Great  Congregation."  He 
does  not  say  so,  but  he  must  have  had  in  his 
mind  the  verse  in  Habakkuk's  prophecy : 
"  The  Lord  is  in  his  holy  temple :  let  all  the 
earth  keep  silence  before  him."  Professor 
Tyndal  declares  that,  when  he  stood  once  un- 
der the  arch  of  Niagara,  the  immense  cascade 
far  above  his  head  produced  in  his  soul  the 
feeling  of  peace  and  good-will  to  all  mankind. 
God's  house,  even  by  itself,  has  a  power  to 
humble  the  proud  spirit  and  lift  the  hushed 
believer  into  rest. 


65  Continued  Meetings.  8 

Whlcome,  days  of  solemn  meeting; 

Welcome,  days  of  praise  and  prayer  ; 
Far  from  earthly  scenes  retreating. 

In  your  blessings  we  would  share  ; 
Sacred  seasons, 

In  your  blessings  we  would  share. 

2     Be  thou  near  us,  blessed  Saviour, 
Still  at  morn  and  eve  the  same  ; 

Give  us  faith  that  cannot  waver; 
Kindle  in  us  heaven's  own  flame  ; 

Blessed  Sav.our, 
Kinule  in  us  heaven's  own  flame. 


5,  7s,  4. 


3     When  the  fervent  heart  is  glowing. 

Holy  Spirit,  hear  that  prayer  : 
When  the  song  of  uraise  is  flowinp, 

Let  that  song  thine  impress  bear  ; 
Holy  Sulrit, 

Let  that  song  thine  impress  bear. 

This  hymn  was  written  by  Rev.  Dr.  Sam- 
uel Francis  Smith,  the  well-kno\vn  author  of 
"My  Country,  'tis  of  thee."  The  date  af- 
fixed to  its  composition  is  1834.  It  was 
doubtless  prepared  for  some  occasion  of  pro- 
tracted service,  some  gathering  of  a  large 
body  of  people.  It  was  the  custom,  thirty 
years  ago,  to  introduce  the  autumn  and  win- 
ter work  with  a  continuous  assemblage  of 
church  members  ;  it  was  believed  that  united 
prayer  would  stimulate  the  graces  of  true 
believers,  and  fervid  exhortations  would 
arouse  the  laggard  ones  to  fresh  duty  ;  and  it 
was  always  understood  that,  when  the  saints 
came  back  to  faithful  activity,  the  Holy  Spirit 
would  surely  answer  with  energy  in  the  con- 
version of  souls.  "  No  doubt,"  writes  good 
William  Gurnall,  the  famous  divine  of  the 
seventeenth  century  ;  "  no  doubt  the  prayers 
which  the  faithful  put  up  to  heaven  from  un- 
der their  private  roofs  are  veiy  acceptable  to 
God  ;  but  if  a  saint's  single  voice  in  prayer  be 
so  sweet  to  his  ear,  much  more  the  church 
choir,  his  saints'  prayers  in  concert  together. 
A  father  is  glad  to  see  any  one  of  his  children, 
and  makes  him  welcome  when  he  visits  him  ; 
but  much  more  when  they  come  together ; 
the  greatest  feast  when  they  all  meet  at  his 
house." 

66  l"^^  Lord's  Day.  los. 

Again  returns  the  day  of  holy  rest, 
Which,  when  he  made  the  world,  Jehovah  blessed  ; 
When,  like  his  own,  he  bade  our  labors  cease, 
And  all  be  piety  and  all  be  peace. 

2  Let  us  devote  this  consecrated  day 
To  learn  his  will,  and  all  we  learn  obey ; 
So  shall  he  hear  when  fervently  we  raise 
Our  supplications  and  our  songs  of  praise. 

3  Father  in  heaven  !  in  whom  our  hopes  confide. 
Whose  power  defends  us  and  whose  precepts  guide. 
In  life  our  Guardian  and  in  death  our  Friend, 
Glory  supreme  be  thine  till  time  shall  end. 

Rev.  William  Mason  was  an  English  Epis- 
copalian, the  incumbent  of  Aston,  and  at  one 
time  a  chaplain  to  George  III.  He  was  born 
at  Kingston-on-Hull  in  1725,  entered  St. 
John's  College  in  Cambridge,  1742,  in  due 
course  graduating  with  honor.  For  thirty- 
two  years  he  was  precentor  and  canon  resi- 
dentiary of  York  Minster,  and  rector  of  Aston, 
where  he  died  April  5,  1797.  An  edition  of 
his  works  was  issued  in  1 8 1 1 ,  in  the  first  vol- 
ume of  which  this  hymn  appears,  showing 
that  some  changes  have  been  made  since. 


36 


OPENING   OF   SERVICE. 


g7  Evening  Worship.  los. 

Oh,  come,  and  let  us  all,  with  one  accord, 
Lift  up  our  cheerful  voice,  and  praise  the  Lord  ! 
Let  us  this  evening  bless  his  holy  Name, 
Vea,  let  us  laud  and  magnify  the  same. 

2  Let  universal  nature  ever  raise 

A  cheerful  voice  to  give  him  thanks  and  praise ; 
Let  us  and  all  his  samts  his  glorj-  sing. 
Who  is  our  blessed  Saviour,  Lord,  and  King. 

3  For  by  his  wor.i    the  heaven  and   earth  were 

made, 
The  earth's  foundation  also  firmly  laid  ; 
All  things  were  done  at  his  divine  command, 
And  shall  throughout  all  ages  surely  stand. 

4  Therefore  let  all  in  heaven  and  earth  agree 
To  sing  his  praise  in  perfect  unity  ; 

Yea,  let  his  servants  all,  with  one  accord, 
With  joyful  hallelujahs  praise  the  Lord. 

The  compiler  of  Laiides  Dojnini  found  this 
hymn  in  the  Temple  Choral  Service  Book, 
edited  and  compiled  by  E.  J.  Hopkins,  the 
well-known  organist  of  the  Inner  and  Middle 
Temple  in  London.  Its  author  is  thus  far 
unknown.  It  seems  to  be  one  of  those  pieces 
that  have  become  traditional  in  the  ancient 
psalters,  and  are  kept  because  of  their  strange 
style  as  monuments  of  a  hymnody  long  since 
superseded.  Rev.  S.  W.  Duffield  reckons  it 
as  having  been  produced  in  the  seventeenth 
century.  It  is  a  version  of  Psalm  95,  and  ap- 
pears also  as  a  Long  Meter  hymn. 

03  Penitent  Prayer.  los. 

Father,  again  in  Jesus'  name  we  meet. 
And  bow  in  penitence  beneath  thy  feet ; 
Again  to  thee  our  feeble  voices  raise, 
To  sue  for  mercy,  and  to  sing  thy  praise. 

2  Lord,  we  would  bless  thee  for  thy  ceaseless  care, 
And  all  thy  work  from  day  to  day  declare: 

Is  not  our  life  with  early  mercies  crowned  ? 
Does  not  thine  arm  encircle  us  around  ? 

3  Alas!  unworthy  of  thy  boundless  love. 
Too  oft  witli  careless  feet  from  thee  we  rove ; 
But  now,  encouraged  by  thy  voice,  we  come, 
Returning  sinners  to  a  Father's  home. 

4  Oh,  by  that  name  in  which  all  fullness  dwells, 
Oh,  by  that  love  which  every  love  excels. 

Oh,  by  that  blood  so  freely  shed  for  sin. 
Open  blest  mercy's  gate  and  take  us  in. 

The  author  of  this  truly  excellent  hymn  was 
a  titled  lady  in  England.  Her  whole  name 
wa:s  Lucy  Elizabeth  Georgiana  Whitmore,  and 
she  was  the  wife  of  W.  W.  Whitmore,  living 
in  Dudmaston,  in  Shropshire.  Her  father 
was  Orlando,  the  second  Baron  Bradford  ;  so, 
like  Lady  Huntingdon  she  came  of  a  noble 
line.  We  are  reminded  at  once  of  the  saying 
credited  to  this  older  authoress  of  hymns,  that 
she  "  thanked  God  often  for  the  letter  M  ;  for 
the  Scripture  did  not  say  not  any,  but,  not  many 
mighty,  not  many  noble,  are  called."  Lady 
Whitmore  was  born  January  22,  1792,  and 
died  March  17,  1840.  Her  one  hymn  was 
found  at  the  close  of  a  small  volume  of  pray- 


ers for  family  use  which  she  compiled  and 
published  in  1 824 ;  it  is  based  on  Luke  1 5  :  20. 

69  Psalm  42.  los. 

As  pants  the  wearied  hart  for  cooling  springs. 
That  sinks  exhausted  in  the  summer's  chase. 

So  panls  my  soul  for  thee,  great  King  ot  kings. 
So  thirsts  to  reach  thy  sacred  dwelling-place. 

2  Why  throb,  my  heart?  why  sink,  my  saddening 

soul? 
Why  droop  to  earth,  with  various  woes  oppressed? 
My  years  shall  yet  in  blissful  circles  roll. 
And  peace  be  yet  an  inmate  of  this  breast. 

3  Lord,  thy  sure  mercies,  ever  in  my  sight, 

My  heart  shall  gladden  through  the  tedious  day ; 
And  midst  the  dark  and  gloomy  shades  of  night. 
To  thee,  my  God,  I  '11  tune  the  grateful  lay. 

4  Why  faint,  my  soul?  why  doubt  Jehovah's  aid? 
Thy  God  the  God  ot  mercy  still  shall  prove ; 

Within  his  courts  thy  thanks  shall  yet  be  paid — 
Unquestioned  be  his  faithfulness  and  love ! 

Rev.  Robert  Lowth,  D.  D.,  was  born  at 
Winchester  in  England,  November  27,  1710. 
He  was  graduated  at  Oxford  1734,  and  at 
once  took  orders  in  the  English  Established 
Church.  After  rapid  advancement  along  the 
line  of  preferment,  he  became  Bishop  of  St. 
David's  in  1766,  and  in  the  same  year  of  Ox- 
ford, and  in  1777  of  London.  He  was  ten- 
dered in  1783  the  highest  honor  of  all,  the 
Archbishopric  of  Canterbur>- ;  but  this  he  de- 
clined because  of  family  afflictions  and  the 
advance  of  years.  He  died  November  3,  1 787. 
This  hymn  he  wrote  in  Latin,  and  we  use 
the  translation  made  by  George  Gregory.  It 
is  a  version  of  Psalm  42. 

70  "Holy  Rest."  ids. 

Hail,  happy  day  I  thou  day  of  holy  rest. 
What  heavenly  peace  and  transport  fill  my  breast ! 
When  Christ,  the  God  of  grace,  in  love  descends. 
And  kindly  holds  communion  with  his  friends. 

2  Let  earth  and  all  its  vanities  be  gone. 
Move  from  my  sight,  and  leave  my  soul  alone ; 
Its  flattering,  fading  glories  I  despise, 

And  to  immortal  beauties  turn  my  eyes. 

3  Fain  would  I  mount  and  penetrate  the  skies, 
And  on  my  Saviour's  glories  fix  my  eyes; 

Oh,  meet  my  rising  soul,  thou  God  of  love. 
And  waft  it  to  the  blissful  realms  above  ! 

Rev.  Simon  Browne  was  the  honored  and 
useful  pastor  of  an  Independent  Church  in 
Old  Jewry,  London.  He  was  born  about  1680 
in  Shepton  Mallet,  Somersetshire,  England. 
He  is  said  to  have  begun  his  active  work  as  a 
preacher  when  only  twenty  years  of  age.  In 
1 7 16  he  left  a  flourishing  charge  in  Ports- 
mouth, in  order  to  go  up  to  London.  There, 
with  Dr.  Watts  for  his  neighbor  in  Berry 
Street,  he  commenced  the  pastorate  which  he 
relinquished  in  1723;  at  this  time  he  was 
afflicted  in  mind  with  the  notion  that  he  was 
no  longer  able  to  think.  He  thought,  he 
reasoned,  he  argued,  and  to  his  perfect  satis- 
faction he  proved,  that  he  was  unable  to  con- 


OPENING  OF  SERVICE. 


37 


duct  any  mental  operations.  So  he  went  into 
literary  work !  He  made  a  dictionary,  he 
issued  a  book  on  the  Trinity,  he  continued 
Matthew  Henry's  Commentary  by  expound- 
ing the  First  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians.  It 
was  in  view  of  the  twenty-three  separate  pub- 
lications this  thinkless  man  prepared  that 
Toplady  once  remarked  that  "  instead  of  hav- 
ing no  soul,  he  wrote  and  reasoned  and 
prayed  as  if  he  had  two."  He  issued  also 
a  D?fense  of  Christianity,  which  prompted 
Dr.  AUibone  to  say,  "  If  he  was  crazy,  he  was 
at  least  more  than  equal  to  two  infidels  " — 
meaning  Woolston  and  Tindal.  When  his 
friends  pointed  to  his  productions,  this  singu- 
lar man  replied :  "  I  am  doing  nothing  that 
requires  a  reasonable  soul."  He  explained 
the  singularity  thus :  God  had  "  annihilated 
in  him  the  thinking  substance  and  utterly  di- 
vested him  of  consciousness ;"  though  he  re- 
tained the  human  shape  and  the  faculty  of 
speaking  in  a  manner  that  appeared  to  others 
rational,  he  "  had  all  the  while  no  more  notion 
of  what  he  said  than  a  parrot."  In  this  de- 
lusion, but  with  the  love  and  respect  of  those 
who  knew  him  best,  he  died  in  1732. 

71  Psalm  84.  H.  M. 

Lord  of  the  worlds  above  ! 

How  pleasant,  and  how  fair, 
The  dwellings  of  thy  love, 

Thine  earthly  temples  are  1 
To  thine  abode  my  heart  aspires, 
With  warm  desires  to  see  my  God. 

2  Oh,  happy  souls  who  pray 
Where  God  appoints  to  hear  ! 

Oh,  h;ippy  men  who  pay 

Their  constant  service  there  ! 
They  praise  thee  still ;  and  happy  they 
Who  love  the  way  to  Zion's  hilt. 

3  They  go  from  strength  to  strength, 
Through  this  dark  vale  of  tears, 

Till  each  arrives  at  length, 

Till  each  in  heaven  appears ; 
Oh,  glorious  seat,  when  God,  our  King, 
Shall  thither  bring  our  willing  feet ! 

Dr.  Isaac  Watts  has  given  this  as  his  ver- 
sion of  Psalm  84,  in  the  meter  he  calls  "  P. 
M.,"  that  which  in  modern  hymnals  is  marked 
as  "  H.  M."  The  Hallelujah  Meier  used  to 
be  a  Particular  Meter.  This  has  in  his  orig- 
inal form  four  stanzas,  and  is  entitled,  "  Long- 
ing for  the  House  of  God."  It  suggests  the 
never-failing  thought  of  the  royal  psalmist  of 
Israel,  that  of  rest  on  the  day  of  rest.  A 
pleasing  incident  has  been  given  lately  in  the 
public  prints ;  a  Christian  minister  tells  the 
tale.  It  shows  how  cogent  and  how  simple 
is  the  argument  for  the  Sabbath. 

"  A  florist  from  whom  I  was  in  the  habit  of 
purchasing  plants,  and  receiving  instructions 
in  regard  to  their  culture,  came  to  my  house 
one  day  with  some  roses.     '  Now,'  said  I, '  Mr. 


W.,  I  want  you  to  tell  me  about  watering.  I 
do  not  think  I  quite  understand  about  this 
part  of  the  care.'  '  Well,'  he  replied,  '  only 
experience  can  teach  you ;  some  plants  need 
more  water,  some  less,  and  you  must  find  out 
by  watching  them.  Almost  all  plants  need 
some  water  given  at  a  regular  hour  ever)'  day, 
just  as  much  as  you  need  your  breakfast.  But 
I  do  not  mean  to  say  ez'ery  day,  for  I  have 
learned  by  experience  that  they  must  have 
one  day  in  the  week  to  rest ;  the  water  stimu- 
lates the  roots,  and  they  need  to  be  left  in 
peace  for  one  day  in  seven.'  '  How  beautiful 
that  is,'  I  replied,  '  the  day  of  rest !  It  shows 
the  wisdom  and  necessity  of  the  Sabbath.  I 
have  never  watered  my  plants  on  Sunday,  but 
did  not  have  this  reason  for  it.  You,  I  sup- 
pose, also  leave  your  greenhouses  to  rest  on 
Sunday  ?'  Mr.  W.  was  not  a  Christian,  and 
he  looked  rather  disconcerted  ;  but  he  frankly 
acknowledged  that  he  had  never  thought  of  it 
in  that  way,  and  that  in  fact  he  spent  more  time 
among  his  plants  on  Sunday  than  upon  other 
days.  He  promised  me  in  future  to  change 
his  custom.  Here  is  a  testimony  to  the  wis- 
dom and  love  of  the  Lord  of  the  Sabbath,  by 
one  utterly  unprejudiced.  He  had  never  given 
a  thought  to  the  keeping  holy  the  Sabbath  day, 
but  he  had  learned  by  experience  its  neces- 
sity." 

72  "Light  in  Thy  Light."  H.  M. 

O  ZioN  !  tune  thy  voice, 

.\nd  raise  thy  hands  on  high ; 
Tell  all  the  earth  thy  joys, 

And  boast  salvation  nigh  ; 
Cheerful  in  God,  arise  and  shine. 
While  rays  divine  stream  all  abroad. 

2  He  gilds  thy  morning  face 
With  beams  that  cannot  fade ; 

His  all-resplendent  grace 

He  pours  around  thy  head  ; 
The  nations  round  thy  form  shall  view, 
With  luster  new,  divinely  crowned. 

3  In  honor  to  his  name 
Reflect  that  sacred  light ; 

And  loud  that  grace  proclaim 

Which  makes  thy  darkness  bright ; 
Pursue  his  praise,  till  sovereign  love, 
In  worlds  above,  the  glory  raise. 

4  There,  on  his  holy  hill, 
A  brighter  sun  shall  rise, 

And  with  his  radiance  fill 

Those  fairer,  purer  skies  ; 
While,  round  his  throne,  ten  thousand  stars. 
In  nobler  spheres,  his  influence  own. 

Dr.  Philip  Doddridge  has  included  this  in 
his  volume,  where  he  gave  it  the  title,  "  The 
Glory  of  the  Church  in  the  Latter  Day."  It 
is  odd  to  find  him  apparently  doubtful  about 
a  single  word  he  felt  it  necessary  to  use  in  the 
last  verse  in  order  to  complete  his  rhyme  ;  it 
is  not  very  perfect  after  all :  "  ten  thousand 
stars,  in  nobler  spheres,"  a  critic  would  say 


3« 


OPEXIXG  OF  SERVICE. 


would  pass  better  without  any  notice  taken 
of  h.  It  seems  quaintly  fastidious  to  discover 
a  foot-note  reierriog  to  this  introduction  of  a 
new  word.  The  note  says :  "  Spheres — orbs 
or  paths,  in  which  the  stars  move."  It  has 
not  been  needful  to  ccmtinue  this  now.  But 
the  poon.  as  a  whole,  is  really  one  of  the  most 
brilliant  of  his. 

Once,  when  I  was  on  the  sea,  e.xacth-  at 
noon  I  saw  a  common  sailor  approachii^  the 
captain,  who  was  on  the  bridge  as  usual  at 
that  time.  I  watched  him  as  he  came  up, 
touched  his  Scotch  cap  in  salutation,  and  said 
with  grufif  rc^)ectfulness,  "  Eight  bells,  sir  f 
He  meant  by  the  announcement  to  rejxMt 
that  he  knew  by  the  stars  that  it  was  just 
noon — that  is,  in  sailor  fiarlance.  eight  bells  by 
the  clock.  The  captain  with  equal  gruffness 
replied.  "  Make  it  eight  bells !"  It  struck  me 
rather  as  an  odd  assumption  for  that  captain 
or  for  that  sailor  to  mak^  it  noon.  It  "u/as 
noon  an\-\vay,  no  matter  what  they  did  or 
what  they  thought  about  it.  But  I  kept  my 
eye  on  the  seaman ;  he  went  up  to  the  ship's 
bell  a  hundred  feet  away,  and  struck  it  with 
the  clapf)er  eight  times,  so  that  the  sound 
went  through  all  the  ship  from  engine-room 
to  topmast.  The  thing  was  new  to  me :  I 
thought  instantly  of  God's  glor\- — his  inhe- 
rent glory  and  his  declarative  glor\-.  He  says 
to  every  man,  "  Glorif)'  me  !"  That  means, 
"  Make  me  glorious  I"  But  he  z's  glorious  in 
despite  of  men.  We  can  neither  add  to  nor 
take  from  his  glory.  TAen  say  so.  That  old 
sailor  could  not  make  it  noon ;  it  was  noon. 
But  he  could  make  it  noon  in  the  ship ;  he 
could  go  and  strike  the  eight  bells,  and  then 
e\-en  the  cook  would  know  it  and  own  it  and 
Irve  as  if  he  felt  it  was  noon  overhead  and  all 
around  him.  Men  cannot  touch  God's  inhe- 
rent gloiy ;  they  can  proclaim  his  declarative 
glor\',  however.  Zion  cannot  make  "  rays  di- 
\Tne  stream  abroad ;"  but  Zion  can  tune  her 
voice,  and  raise  her  hands  on  high,  tell  all  the 
earth  her  joys,  and  boast  salvation  ni^  I 

73  Piolm  43.  H.  M. 

Now  to  thy  sacred  house 

With  joy  I  turn  inv  feel. 
Where  saints,  with  tnomiDg  vows, 

In  fnll  assembly  inret: 
Thy  power  divine  shall  there  be  shown, 
And  from  thy  throne  thy  mercy  shine. 

2  Oh,  send  thy  lig^t  abroad ; 
Thy  truth  with  heavenly  ray 

Shall  lead  my  soul  to  God, 

And  g^ide  my  doubtfui  way ; 
I  '11  "near  thy  w  ord  with  faith  sincere, 
And  learn  to  fear  and  praise  the  Lord. 

3  Now  in  thy  holy  hill, 
Before  thine  altar.  Lord  \ 

My  harp  and  song  shall  sound 
The  glories  of  thy  word : 


Henceibrth.  to  thee  O  God  of  grace! 
A  hymn  of  praise  my  liie  shall  be. 


REV.   TIMOTHY  DWIGHT,  D.  D. 

Rev.  Timothy  Dwight,  D.  D.,  LL.  D.,  was 
bom  in  Northampton,  Mass.,  in  1752.  May 
14,  and  died  in  1817,  January-  11.  In  1785  he 
published  his  first  p)oem.  The  Conquest  of 
Canaan,  a  copy  of  which  Dr.  Belcher  tells  us 
he  once  saw  sold  in  England  for  more  than 
five  dollars.  This,  it  is  likely,  was  bought  as 
a  curiosity  or  an  antique ;  for  the  poem,  al- 
though it  was  the  most  ambitious  literar}- 
effort  of  his  life,  never  reached  any  gjeat  f>o{>- 
ularit}'  or  fame.  There  was  comf)aratively 
little  of  exploration  or  travel  in  the  Holy  Land 
in  those  days,  and  some  of  the  oriental  im- 
ager}- was  at  fault,  and  critics  noted  it  unchar- 
itably. 

It  is  in  such  a  psalm  as  this  that  we  seem 
to  see  the  venerable  Dr.  Timothy  Dwight  at 
his  characteristically  best  in  look  and  mien. 
A  pardonable  enthusiasm  makes  Mr.  Samuel 
W.  Duffield  say  of  him  :  "His  stately  progress 
to  the  house  of  God  might  well  ser\e  as  a 
commentar\'  upon  his  own  h\-mn."  In  his 
collection  Dr.  Dwight  has  called  this  his  ver- 
sion of  Psalm  43 ;  it  commences  with  the  line, 
"  My  God,  defend  my  cause."  and  the  present 
compilation  of  verses  begins  with  the  third. 

We  are  to  remember,  in  all  attempts  to  es- 
timate the  greatness  of  President  Dwight 's 
life,  that  he  was  a  sufferer  from  a  terrible 
malady  nearly  all  the  effective  years  of  his 
career.  According  to  the  custom  of  those 
slowly  learning  generations  he  was  deliber- 
ately inoculated,  not  vaccinated,  as  is  the 
practice  now,  so  easy  and  so  safe,  but  actual- 
ly given  the  disease  so  as  to  prevent  his  hav- 
ing it  when  he  might  fare  worse  by  taking  it 


OPENING  OF  SERVICE. 


39 


the  natural  way!  The  result  was  favorable 
in  one  respect — he  never  had  it  again.  But 
his  sight  became  aiTected,  and  ever  afterward, 
during  forty  years  of  hindrance  and  inability, 
he  could  read  consecutively  only  for  fifteen 
minutes  at  a  time ;  sometimes  for  weeks  his 
eyes  were  iiseless.  He  lived  by  the  help  of 
an  amanuensis  in  all  his  literary  undertakings. 
The  pain  behind  the  eyeballs  and  in  the  fron- 
tal region  of  the  brain  was  constant,  and 
agonizing  whenever  his  zeal  or  enthusiasm  led 
him  beyond  the  narrowest  limits  of  work. 


74 


Type  of  Heaven. 


H.  M. 


AwAKH,  ye  saints,  awake! 

All  hail  this  sacred  day  : 
In  loftiest  songs  of  praise 

Vour  joyful  homage  pay  ! 
Come  bless  the  day  that  God  hath  blest, 
The  type  of  heaven's  eternal  rest. 

3    On  this  auspicious  morn 

The  Lord  of  life  arose  ; 
He  burst  the  bars  of  death, 

And  vanquished  all  our  foes ; 
And  now  he  pleads  our  cause  above, 
And  reaps  the  fruit  of  all  his  love. 

3     All  hail,  triumphant  Lord! 

Heaven  with  hosannas  rings, 
And  earth  in  humbler  strains 

Thy  praise  fesponsive  sings: 
Worthy  tUe.Lanib  that  once  was  slain, 
Through  endless  years  to  live  and  reign  ! 

Rev.  Thomas  Cotterill  w^as  a  clergyman  of 
the  Church  of  England,  perpetual  curate  of 
St.  Paul's,  in  Sheffield.  He  was  born  at  Can- 
nock, Staffordshire,  December  4,  1779.  He 
was  graduated  from  St.  John's  College,  Cam- 
bridj;e,  in  1801.  Four  or  five  years  afterward 
he  entered  upon  his  parochial  and  ministerial 
■duties  at  Tutbury.  In  181 7  he  became  curate 
in  Sheffield,  where  he  passed  the  rest  of  his 
life.  This  brought  him  into  companionship 
with  James  Montgomery.  They  made  a  hymn- 
book  together,  and  so  were  very  affectionate 
and  familiar.  Cotterill  composed  at  least 
thirty-two  pieces,  some  of  them  excellent  for 
that  day.  He  died  December  29,  1823.  It 
was  of  him  that  Montgomery  spoke  when  he 
wrote  the  hymn  we  all  remember,  "  Friend 
after  friend  departs."  The  hymn,  as  it  stands 
in  Laiidcs  Domini,  is  made  up  of  two  stanzas 
of  this  poet,  and  one,  the  last,  by  Miss  Eliza- 
beth Scott.  The  compiler  of  that  collection 
took  the  hymn  as  he  found  it ;  the  changes 
and  combinations  were  made  long  before  his 
fashioning  of  books  began. 


76  Welcome  Worship. 

Wki-Comk,  delightful  morn, 
Thou  day  of  sarred  rest ; 

I  hail  thy  kind  return: 
Lord,  make  these  moments  blest: 

From  the  low  train  of  mortal  toys 

I  soar  to  reach  immortal  joys. 


H.  M. 


3    Now  may  the  King  descend, 

And  fill  his  throne  of  grace ; 
Thy  scepter.  Lord,  extend, 

While  saints  address  thy  face: 
Let  sinners  feel  thy  quickening  word. 
And  learn  to  know  and  fear  the  Lord. 

3    Descend,  celestial  Dove, 

With  all  thy  quickening  powers ; 

Disclose  a  Saviour's  love. 
And  bless  these  sacred  hours: 

Then  shall  my  soul  new  life  obtain, 

Nor  Sabbaths  be  enjoyed  in  vain. 

For  many  years  the  inquir^^  has  been  pressed 
concerning  the  almost  mythical  "  Hayward," 
whose  name  appears  in  connection  with  this 
familiar  and  favorite  hymn.  It  has  been 
traced  back  to  Dobell's  Nexu  Selection,  pub- 
lished 1806,  and  there  the  trail  ends.  No  one 
seems  to  know  any  more  about  the  piece  or 
its  author.     . 

76  Psalm  122.  S.  p.  M. 

How  pleased  and  blest  was  I 

To  hear  the  people  cry, 
"  Come,  let  ns  seek  our  God  to-day  !" 

Yes,  with  a  cheerful  zeal 

We  haste  to  Zion's  hill. 
And  there  our  vows  and  lienors  pay. 

2  Zion — thrice  happy  place — 
Adorned  with  wondrous  grace, 

While  walls  of  strength  embrace  thee  round : 
In  thee  our  tribes  appear. 
To  pray,  and  praise,  and  hear 

The  sacred  gospel's  joyful  sound. 

3  ."Vlay  peace  attend  thy  gate. 
And  joy  within  thee  wait 

To  bless  the  soul  of  every  guest: 
The  man  who  seeks  thy  peace, 
And  wishes  thine  increase, 

A  thousand  blessings  on  him  rest! 

4  My  tongue  repeats  her  vows, 
"  Peace  to  this  sacred  house  I" 

For  here  my  friends  and  kindred  dwell ; 

And  since  my  glorious  God 

Makes  thee  his  blest  abode. 
My  soul  shall  ever  love  thee  well. 

This  is  given  as  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  version 
of  Psalm  122.  P.  M.  It  is  not  better  than 
some  of  his  other  translations,  but  it  is  spright- 
lier  for  singing  by  reason  of  the  felicitous 
choice  of  a  new  meter  in  the  musical  adapta- 
tion. The  tune  to  which  it  is  commonly  sung 
appears  to  have  been  constructed  from  the 
ancient  "  Crusaders'  H\Tnn." 


77  Cant.  1:7. 

Tell  me.  whom  my  soul  doth  love, 
Where  thy  flock  are  feeding; 

Where  the  pastures  which  they  rove- 
Thou  their  footsteps  leading? 

2  Tell  me,  sheltered  from  the  heat, 
Where  at  noon  they  rest  them ; 

Where  at  night  their  safe  retreat — 
Fold,  where  none  molest  them? 

3  Strong  in  thy  protecting  arm  ; 
Richly  thou  providest ; 

Feeding,  resting — kept  from  harm — 
Blest  the  flock  thou  guidc'^t. 

4  Noon  and  night  be  my  defence ; 
Let  no  foe  ensnare  me ; 

Bring  me  to  the  Shepherd's  tents — 
In  thy  bosom  bear  me. 


P.M. 


40 


OPENING  OF  SERVICE. 


This  poem  was  written  by  Rev.  Samuel 
Wolcott,  D.  D.  February  6,  1870;  he  says 
that  he  designed  it  simply  as  a  paraphrase  of 
Solomon's  Song  1:7,8,  and  so  gave  it  the 
title  of  "  Shulamith."  Dr.  Wolcott  was  born, 
a  son  of  Elihu  and  Rachel  M.  (McClure) 
Wolcott — a  lineal  descendant  of  Henry  W^ol- 
cott,  who  settled  at  Windsor,  Ct.,  in  1630, 
and  was  one  of  the  first  magistrates  of  that 
colony — at  South  Windsor,  July  2,  181 3,  and 
died  in  his  new  home  in  Longmeadow,  Mass., 
February  24,  1886.  He  fitted  for  college, 
under  the  late  Chief-Justice  Strong,  in  the 
academy  at  East  Windsor  Hill ;  graduated 
from  Yale  in  the  class  of  1833,  and  at  An- 
dover  in  the  class  of  1837.  He  was  ordained 
in  the  the  Bowdoin  St.  Church,  Nov.  13,  1839, 
Dr.  Kirk  preaching  the  sermon,  and  went  as 
missionary  to  Syria,  reaching  Beirut  in  April, 
1840.  He  began  missionary  work  in  Abieh, 
a  village  in  Mt.  Lebanon,  but  the  rising  of 
the  mountaineers  against  the  pasha  compelled 
him  to  retire  to  Beirut.  His  next  move  was 
in  the  spring  of  1841  to  Damascus,  where  he 
opened  a  school  for  the  Druses  of  Mt.  Leba- 
non in  Deir  el  Khamr,  from  which  he  was 
soon  again  dislodged  by  civil  war.  The  next 
winter  he  went  to  Jerusalem,  and  there  and 
elsewhere  made  those  exceedingly  valuable 
topographical  explorations  afterwards  pub- 
lished in  the  Biblical  Repository  and  else- 
where, and  embodied  in  the  American  revis- 
ion of  Dr.  Smith's  Dictionary  of  the  Bible. 
His  attempts  to  resume  missionary  labor  at 
Mt.  Lebanon  being  still  further  prevented  by 
the  hostilities  of  the  times,  and  his  family 
broken  up  by  sickness  and  death,  he  em- 
barked at  Beirut,  January  2,  1843,  for  his 
native  land  by  way  of  England  in  the  spring 
of  1843,  arriving  at  Boston  April  21,  1843,  and 
was  settled  at  Longmeadow,  August  30  fol- 
lowing. After  a  short  but  successful  pastor- 
ate there,  he  was  settled,  October  3,  1849,  in 
Belchertown,  whence  he  went  to  the  High 
Street  Church  in  Providence,  R.  L,  April  3, 
1853  ;  to  the  New  England  Church  in  Chica- 
go, 111.,  September  27,  1859,  and  the  Plymouth 
Church  in  Cleveland  O.,  February  5,  1862. 
From  this  pastorate  he  was  dismissed,  Feb- 
ruary 17,  1874,  to  accept  the  district  secre- 
taryship of  the  Home  Missionary  Society  of 
Ohio  and  parts  adjacent,  which  position  he 
held  with  distinguished  usefulness  during 
seven  years.  Residing  for  a  time,  without 
charge,  in  Cleveland,  in  literary  and  other 
labor,  he  then  came  back  to  Longmeadow, 
where,  in  a  beautiful  home  erected  for  his 
comfort  by  his  children,  the  closing  months 
of  his  life  were  spent. 


78  W^ells  of  Salvation.  P.  M. 

Come,  pure  hearts,  in  sweetest  measures 
Sing  of  those  who  spread  the  treasures 

In  the  holy  Gospels  shrined  ; 
Blessed  tidings  ot  salvation, 
Peace  on  earth  their  proclamation, 

Love  from  God  to  lost  mankind. 

2  See  the  rivers  four  that  gladden 
With  their  streams  the  better  Edei! 

Planted  by  our  Lord  most  dear  ; 
Christ  the  fountain,  these  the  wat'  rs ; 
Drink,  O  Zion's  sons  and  daughters, 

Drink  and  find  salvation  here. 

3  Oh,  that  we.  thy  truth  confessing. 
And  thy  holy  word  possessing, 

Jesus,  may  thy  love  adore  ; 
Unto  thee  our  voices  raising, 
Thee  with  all  thy  ransomed  praising, 

Ever  and  for  evermore. 

Robert  Campbell,  a  Scotch  advocate,  the 
translator  of  this  poem,  was  born  at  Troch- 
raig  in  Ayrshire,  Scotland,  December  19, 1814. 
While  living  in  Edinburgh,  in  1850,  he  pre- 
pared some  versions  of  Latin  hymns  to  be 
used  in  a  service-book  for  the  diocese  of  St. 
Andrews,  among  which  this  one  appears. 
Late  in  life  he  left  the  Protestant  Establish- 
ment and  joined  the  Church  of  Rome,  in 
the  communion  of  which  he  died,  December 
29,  1868.  This  piece  is  somewhat  freely  ren- 
dered from  a  hymn  written  for  the  festival  of 
the  Holy  Evangelists  by  Adam  of  St.  Vic- 
tor— Jucundare  plebs  fidelis. 

79  "Deliver  Us  From  Evil."  P.  M. 

Father,  in  high  heaven  dwelling, 
May  our  evening  song  be  telling 

Of  thy  mercy  large  and  free: 
Through  the  day  thy  love  hath  led  us. 
Through  the  day  thy  care  hath  led  us, 

With  divinest  charity. 

2  This  day's  sins,  oh,  pardon,  Saviour ! 
Evil  thoughts,  perverse  behavior, 

Envy,  pride,  and  vanity  ; 
From  all  evil  us  deliver; 
Save  us  now,  and  save  us  ever, 

O  thou  Lamb  of  Calvary  I 

3  Whilst  the  night-dews  are  distilling, 
Holy  Ghost,  each  heart  be  filling 

With  thine  own  serenity ;  • 

Softly  let  our  eyes  be  closing. 
Loving  souls  on  thee  reposing. 

Ever-blessed  Trinity. 

George  Rawson,  the  author  of  this  hymn, 
preferred  for  a  long  period  to  be  known  only 
as  "  A  Leeds  La\-man."  He  contributed  fif- 
teen acceptable  pieces  to  the  Leeds  Hymn- 
book,  1853,  and  twenty-sevTcn  to  the  Psalms 
and  Hymns  of  the  Baptist  Denomination, 
1858.  In  1876  he  gave  a  large  volume  of  his 
compositions  to  the  public  with  his  own  name. 
His  home  was  for  many  years  at  Clifton,  near 
Bristol,  in  England.  Born  June  5,  1807,  he 
lived  to  reach  an  honored  old  age,  and  died 
March  25,  1889,  writing  new  hymns  and  re- 
vising old,  not  always  for  the  better,  clear 


OPENING  OF  SERVICE. 


41 


GKORGE  RAWSON. 

down  to  the  time  of  his  decease.  He  \yas 
a  solicitor  by  profession,  and  a  Congrega- 
tionalist  in  church  connection.  His  hymns 
always  awaked  much  curiosity,  while  he  con- 
cealed himself  under  his  pseudonym,  and 
they  have  always  been  welcome  for  the  spirit 
they  breathed  and  the  good  they  have  done. 
They  appear  in  the  hymnals  of  many  of  the 
churches  in  America. 


those  simple,  strong  sermons  with  which  the 
lamented  Bishop  Simpson  used  to  counsel 
and  comfort  God's  people  in  his  later  years. 
He  says  :  "  I  was  visiting  a  friend  some  years 
ago  who'  had  lately  built  a  new  house.  It 
was  just  finished.  It  was  beautiful,  useful. 
He  took  me  up  stairs.  It  had  wardrobes, 
toilet-glasses,  books  and  paintings.  It  was 
furnished  grandly.  And  the  father  turned  to 
me  and  said,  '  This  room  is  for  our  daughter. 
She  is  in  Europe.  She  does  not  know  we  are 
arranging  it.  Her  mother  and  I  have  fixed 
up  everything  we  could  think  of  for  her,  and 
as  soon  as  the  house  is  fully  finished  we  are 
going  to  Europe  to  bring  her  back,  and  we 
are  going  to  bring  her  up  stairs  and  open  the 
door  and  say.  Daughter,  this  is  all  yours.' 
And  I  thought  of  the  joy  it  would  give  her, 
and  I  thought,  '  How  kind  these  parents  are !' 
Just  then  I  turned  away  and  thought, '  That 
is  what  Jesus  is  doing  for  me.'  He  says,  '  I 
am  going  away.  I  will  come  again.  In  my 
Father's  house  are  many  mansions.  If  it 
were  not  so  I  would  have  told  you.  I  go  to 
prepare  a  place  for  you.  And  if  I  go  and 
prepare  a  place  for  you,  I  will  come  again  and 
receive  you  unto  myself,  that  where  I  am  there 
ye  may  be  also.'  Then  I  said,  '  This  father 
and  mother  are  rich,  but  they  Have  not  all 
treasures  ;  there  are  a  great  many  things  they 
do  n't  know  how  to  get.  But  Jesus,  who  is 
furnishing  my  mansion  in  glory,  has  every- 
thing. He  has  undertaken  to  furnish  a  place 
for  me,  and  I  shall  be  with  him  for  ever.'  " 


80  Evening  Song.  P.  M.      81 

Upward  where  the  stars  are  burning, 
Silent,  silent  in  their  turning, 

Round  the  never  changing  pole; 
Upward  where  the  sky  is  brightest. 
Upward  where  the  blue  is  lightest — 

Lift  I  now  my  longing  soul. 

a    Far  beyond  the  arch  of  gladness, 
Far  beyond  these  clouds  oisadness. 

Are  the  many  mansions  fair: 
Far  from  pain  and  sin  and  folly, 
In  that  palace  of  the  holy — 

I  would  find  my  mansion  there. 

3  Where  the  Lamb  on  high  is  seated, 
By  ten  thousand  voices  greeted: 

Lord  of  lords,  and  King  ot  kings  ! 
Son  of  man,  they  crown,  they  crown  him, 
Son  of  fiod,  they  own,  tliey  own  him, 

With  his  name  the  palace  rings. 

4  Blessing,  honor,  without  measure. 
Heavenly  riches,  earthly  treasure. 

Lay  we  at  his  blessed  feet: 
Poor  the  praise  that  now  we  render, 
Loud  shall  be  our  voices  yonder, 

When  before  his  throne  we  meet. 

This  will  be  recognized  as  one  of  Dr.  Ho- 
ratius  Bonar's  best  and  most  popular  hymns. 
It  was  published  in  1867.  It  will  find  its  ex- 
quisite illustration  in  a  fragment  of  one  of 


Sabbath  Morning.  7s,  61. 

Safely  through  another  week 
God  has  brought  us  on  our  way  ; 

Let  us  now  a  blessing  seek, 
Waiting  in  his  courts  to-day: 

Day  of  all  the  week  the  best, 

Emblem  of  eternal  rest. 

3    While  we  seek  supplies  of  grace 
Through  the  dear  Redeemer's  name. 

Show  thy  reconciling  face, 
Take  away  our  sin  and  shame ; 

From  our  worldly  cares  set  free, 

May  we  rest  this  day  in  thee. 

3  Here  we  come  thy  name  to  praise ; 
Let  us  feel  thy  presence  near ; 

May  thy  glory  meet  our  eyes 

VVhile  we  in  thy  house  appear: 
Here  afford  us,  Lord,  a  taste 
Of  our  everlasting  feast. 

4  May  thy  gospel's  joyful  sound 
Conquer  sinners,  comfort  saints ; 

Make  the  fruits  of  grace  abound, 

Bring  relief  for  all  complaints: 
Thus  let  all  our  Sabbaths  prove. 
Till  we  rest  in  thee  above. 

This  familiar  and  favorite  hymn  comes 
from  Rev.  John  Newton's  Olney  Hymns, 
Book  II.,  No.  40.  It  consists  there  of  five 
stanzas,  and  bears  the  title,  "  Saturday  Eve- 


OPENING   OF   SERVICE. 


ning."  It  was  designed  as  a  meditation  and 
suggestion  for  the  close  of  the  week,  rather 
than  a  lyric  for  public  service  on  the  Lord's 
day ;  and  certain  changes  have  been  notice- 
ably made  in  order  to  adapt  it  to  its  new  use. 
It  has  always  been  welcome  to  Christian  peo- 
ple because  of  its  bright  and  brave  putting 
aside  of  the  weights  and  its  putting  on  of  the 
wings  of  true  devotion,  and  so  its  coming  up 
into  God's  presence  with  a  joyous  heart. 
Long  ago  it  was  said  of  Sir  William  Cecil, 
some  time  Lord  Treasurer  of  England,  that, 
when  he  went  to  bed,  he  would  throw  off  his 
professional  gown  and  say :  "  Lie  there,  Lord 
Treasurer,"  as  if  bidding  adieu  to  all  State 
affairs  in  order  that  he  might  the  more  quietly 
repose  himself.  The  quaint  old  Spencer 
quotes  this  exclamation,  and  then  homilizes 
upon  it  concerning  one's  going  to  any  reli- 
gious duty,  whether  hearing  or  praying,  com- 
ing to  the  Lord's  table,  entering  the  sanctu- 
ary, or  even  engaging  in  private  devotions ;  he 
thinks  one  might  say :  •'  Lie  by,  world ;  lie 
by,  all  secular  cares,  all  household  affairs,  all 
pleasures,  all  trafific,  all  thought  of  gain ;  lie 
by,  all !  adieu,  all !" 

82  The  Holy  Day  of  Rest.  7s,  D. 

Welcome,  sacred  day  of  rest ! 

Sweet  repose  from  worldly  care  : 
Day  above  all  days  the  best, 

When  our  souls  for  heaven  prepare  ; 
Day  when  our  Redeemer  rose, 

Victor  o'er  the  hosts  of  liell 
Thus  lie  vanquished  all  our  foes; 

Let  our  lips  his  glory  tell. 

2    Gracious  Lord  !  we  love  this  day, 

When  we  hear  thy  holy  word, 
When  we  sing  thy  praise  and  pray ; 

Earth  can  no  such  joys  afford: 
But  a  better  rest  remaiiis, 

Heavenly  Sabbaths,  liappier  days, 
Rest  from  sin  and  rest  from  pains, 

Endless  joys  and  endless  praise. 

This  hymn  appeared  anonymously  in  Con- 
der's  Collect wn,  in  1 836.  It  might  be  marked 
with  a  star  as  well  as  in  any  other  way,  so  far 
as  any  trustworthy  information  can  be  ob- 
tained as  to  its  author.  The  simple  name 
"  William  Brown  "  is  found  annexed  to  it  in 
Thomas  Russell's  book,  A  Collection  of 
Hymns,  designed  as  an  appendix  to  Dr. 
Watts'  Psalms  and  Hymns,  1839;  that  is,  it 
was  not  in  the  tenth  edition  of  that  volume, 
1826,  but  it  was  in  the  twentieth  edition  in 
1843.  No  one  seems  to  know  who  the  au- 
thor was. 


33  Invocation. 

Light  of  life,  seraphic  Fire, 
Love  divine,  thyself  impart ; 

Every  fainting  soul  inspire  ; 
Enter  every  drooping  heart ; 


7s,  D. 


Every  mournful  siimer  cheer  ; 

Scatter  all  our  guilty  gloom  ; 
Father  !  in  thy  grace  appear, 

To  thy  human  temples  come. 

2    Come,  in  this  accepted  hour. 

Bring  thy  heavenly  kingdom  in  ; 
Fill  us  with  thy  glorious  power, 

Set  us  free  from  all  our  sin: 
Nothing  more  can  we  require, 

We  will  covet  nothing  less  ; 
Be  thou  all  our  heart's  desire, 

All  our  joy,  and  all  our  peace. 

This  is  selected  from  Rev.  Charles  Wes- 
ley's "  Hymns  for  those  who  wait  for  full 
Redemption,"  included  in  his  Hymns  and  Sa- 
cred Poems.  It  is  found  complete  in  his  pub- 
lished volume,  issued  in  1749,  where  it  has 
an  additional  stanza,  there  omitted.  From  the 
frequency  with  which  this  hymn  appears  in 
our  modern  collections,  we  easily  infer  that 
the  compilers  have  recognized  its  unusual  fit- 
ness as  an  invocation  to  be  used  at  the  open- 
ing of  public  service.  It  sings  its  praise  with 
the  same  breath  with  which  it  presses  its 
prayer.  It  is  a  genuine  cry  of  the  soul  for  the 
aid  of  God's  Spint. 

84  Psalm  84.  7S,  D. 

Pleasant  are  tliy  courts  above, 
In  the  land  of  light  and  love; 
Pleasant  are  thy  courts  below, 
In  this  land  of  sin  and  woe. 
Oh,  my  spirit  longs  and  faints 
For  the  converse  of  thy  saints. 
For  the  brightness  of  thy  face. 
King  of  glory,  God  of  grace  ! 

2  Happy  birds  that  sing  and  fly 
Round  thy  altars,  O  Most  High  ! 
Happier  souls  that  find  a  rest 

In  their  Heavenly  Father  s  breast  1 
Like  the  wandering  dove  that  found 
No  repose  on  earth  around. 
They  can  to  their  ark  repair, 
And  enjoy  it  ever  there. 

3  Happy  souls,  their  praises  flow 
Ever  in  this  vale  of  woe; 
Waters  in  the  desert  rise, 
Manna  feeds  them  from  the  skies  ; 
On  they  go  from  strength  to  strength, 
Till  they  reach  thy  throne  at  length, 
At  thy  feet  adoring  fall 

Who  hast  led  them  safe  through  all. 

4  Lord,  be  mine  this  prize  to  win  ; 
Guide  me  through  this  world  of  sin  ; 
Keep  me  by  thy  saving  grace, 
Give  me  at  thy  side  a  place  ; 

Sun  and  shield  alike  thou  art. 
Guide  and  guard  my  erring  heart; 
Grace  and  glory  flow  from  thee, 
Shower,  oh,  shower  them,  Lord,  on  me. 

Rev.  Henry  F.  Lyte  is  one  of  the  most 
graceful  of  all  our  poets  in  the  management 
of  words  and  phrases,  and  so  is  unusually 
successful  in  his  rendering  and  paraphrasing 
of  Scripture.  This  is  his  version  of  Psalm  84, 
published  1834,  in  his  Spirit  of  the  Psalms. 
He  was  born  at  Ednam,  near  Kelso,  in  Scot- 
land, June  9,  1793,  and  was  graduated  at 
Trinity  College,  Dublin,  18 14.  He  was  an 
excellent  scholar,  and  a  poet  of  no  mean  order 


OPENING  OK  SERVICE. 


43 


from  the  beginning  of  his  studies ;  he  took 
the  prize  three  times  in  the  competition  for  ex- 
cellence as  the  composer  of  an  English  poem. 
He  entered  the  ministry  of  the  Church  of 
England  in  1815,  being  made  the  curate  of  a 
small  charge  near  Wexford.  Two  years  later 
he  removed  to  Marazion,  in  Cornwall.  In 
1823  he  was  appointed  Perpetual  Curate  of 
Lower  Brixham,  in  Devon.  There  he  died, 
November  20,  1847. 


85  "  Rest  and  Love." 

Lord,  remove  the  vail  away. 
Let  us  see  thyself  to-day: 
Thou  who  earnest  from  on  high, 
For  our  sins  to  bleed  and  die, 
Help  us  now  to  cast  aside 
All  that  would  our  hearts  divide  ; 
With  the  Father  and  the  Son, 
Let  thy  living  Church  be  one. 

2  Oh,  from  earthly  cares  set  free, 
Let  us  find  our  rest  in  thee  ; 
May  our  toils  and  conflicts  cease 
In  the  calm  of  Sabbath  peace; 
That  thy  people  heie  below 
Something  of  the  bliss  may  know, 
Something  of  the  rest  and  love, 
In  the  Sabbath-home  above. 

3  Give  our  souls  the  spotless  dress 
Of  tiiy  perfect  righteousness  ; 

So  at  length  each  welcome  guest 
Then  shall  enter  to  the  fe;ist, 
Take  the  harp  and  raise  the  song, 
All  thy  ransomed  ones  among; 
Earthly  cares  and  sorrows  o'er, 
Joys  to  last  for  evermore. 


7s,  D. 


FRIEDRICH    GOTTLIEB   KLOPSTOCK. 

The    little   book   which    has    attracted    so 
much  attention,  Hynitts  froJit  the  Land  of 


Luther,  is  a  series  of  translations  of  the  best 
of  the  German  songs  of  devotion,  many  of 
these  being  the  old  lyrics  of  reformation 
times,  the  grand  anthems  of  the  ages.  Two 
sisters  conducted  this  work  jointly,  and  seem 
to  have  had  the  persistent  desire  to  keep  each 
other's  secrets  in  relation  to  the  share  each 
one  of  them  took  in  the  literary  drudgery. 
Miss  Jane  Borthwick  is  assumed  to  have  had 
.the  prominence  in  composition,  and  Mrs. 
Eric  John  Findlater  to  have  in  the  larger 
measure  supervised  translation.  The  pieces 
were  at  first  published  in  The  Family  Treas- 
ury, and  the  signature,  "  H.  L.  L."  grew  fa- 
mous as  a  hieroglyphic  that  no  one  could  in- 
terpret. The  poetry  is  of  the  highest  order, 
and  the  choice  of  hymns  rendered  is  excellent. 
The  present  one  is  from  the  Zcige  dich  uns 
ohne  Hiille  of  Friedrich  Gottlieb  Klopstock. 
He  was  born  at  Ouedlinberg,  July  2,  1724, 
and  died  at  Hamburg,  March  14,  1803.  The 
translations  were  published  in  18 54- 1862. 
Of  these  sixty-one  are  to  be  credited  to  Miss 
Borthwick  and  fifty-three  to  her  sister.  Mrs. 
Findlater  was  born  at  Edinburgh,  November 
26,  1823;  her  husband  was  a  Presbyterian 
clergyman  at  Lochearnhead,  in  Perthshire, 
and  died  May  2,  1886. 


Morning  Song.  P.  M. 

Come,  my  soul,  thou  must  be  waking. 
Now  is  breaking 

O'er  the  earth  another  dav: 
Come,  to  him  who  made  this  splendor. 
See  thou  render 

All  thy  feeble  strength  can  pay. 

2  Gladly  hail  the  sun  returning  : 
Ready  burning 

Be  the  incense  of  thy  powers: 
For  the  night  is  safely' ended  ; 
God  hath  tended 

With  his  care  thy  helpless  hours. 

3  Pray  that  he  may  prosper  ever 
Each  endeavor. 

When  thine  aim  is  good  and  true ; 
But  that  he  may  ever  thwart  thee, 
And  convert  thee, 

When  thou  evil  wouldst  pursue. 

4  Only  God's  free  gifts  abuse  not. 
Light  refuse  not, 

But  his  Spirit's  voice  obey  ; 
Thou  with  him  shalt  dwell,  beholding 
Light  enfolding 

All  things  in  unclouded  day. 

5  Glory,  honor,  exaltation, 
Adoration, 

Be  to  the  eternal  One: 
To  the  Father.  Son,  and  Spirit 
Laud  and  merit. 

While  unending  ages  run. 

This  rendering  of  a  hymn  by  Baron  von 
Canitz  has  been  ascribed  to  Dr.  Thomas  Ar- 
nold most  likely  because,  appearing  anony- 
mously in  the  British  Magazine  for  Julv, 
1838,  of  which  he  was  the  editor,  it  seemed 


44 


OPENING  OF  SERVICE. 


to  belong  to  him.  But  since  then  it  has  been 
given  on  the  best  authority  to  the  Rev.  Henry 
James  BuckoU,  an  assistant  master  of  the 
Rugby  School,  who  translated  it  from  the 
German  hymn.  A  claim  is  made  still  that 
Dr.  Arnold  did  the  same  at  an  earlier  date, 
and  that  expressions  in  his  composition  are 
found  in  this  piece.  One  is  piqued  at  being 
so  mystified  and  balked  in  his  conclusion ; 
but  as  yet  information  is  too  scant  for  any 
settled  decision.  Friedrich  Rudolph  Ludwig, 
Baron  von  Canitz,  was  born  at  Berlin,  No- 
vember 27,  1654,  and  died  August  11,  1699. 
He  wrote  the  original  Seele  du  Musst  niunter 
iverden.  The  author  of  this  translation  was 
the  son  of  Rev.  James  Buckoll,  rector  of  Sid- 
dington,  near  Gloucester,  England.  He  was 
born  September  9,  1803.  He  was  educated 
at  Oxford,  took  holy  orders  in  the  Established 
Church  in  1827,  and  died  at  Rugby,  June  6, 
1871. 

87  Morning  Hymn.  8s,  7s,  7. 
Hallelujah  !  fairest  morning ! 

Fairer  than  our  words  can  say  ! 
Down  we  lay  the  heavy  burden 

Of  our  toil  and  care  to-day: 
While  this  morn  ofjoy  and  love 
Brings  fresh  vigor  from  above. 

2  Sun-day,  full  of  holy  glory  I 
Sweetest  rest-day  of  the  soul ! 

Light  upon  a  world  of  darkness 

From  thy  blessed  moments  roll ! 
Holy,  happy,  heavenly  day. 
Thou  canst  charm  our  grief  away. 

3  In  the  gladness  of  God's  worship 
We  will  seek  our  joy  to-day: 

It  is  then  we  It-arn  the  fullness 

Of  the  grace  for  which  we  pray: 
When  the  word  of  life  is  given. 
Like  the  Saviour's  voice  from  heaven. 

4  Let  the  day  with  thee  be  ended, 
As  with  thee  it  has  begun  ; 

And  thy  blessing,  Lord,  be  granted 

Till  earth's  days  and  weeks  are  done ; 
That  at  last  thy  servants  niav 
Keep  eternal  Sabbath  day. 

Another  hymn  taken  from  the  collection 
made  by  the  two  sisters,  Mrs.  Findlater  and 
Miss  Borthwick,  Hymns  from  the  Land  of 
Luther.  Miss  Jane  Borthwick  rendered  this 
from  that  of  Rev.  Jonathan  Krause,  who  pub- 
lished it  in  1739;  he  was  a  native  of  Silesia, 
born  in  1701,  and  in  later  life  pastor  in  Lieg- 
nitz.  The  German  piece  begins  :  Alleluja ! 
shoner  Morgen.  Miss  Borthwick  was  born, 
April  9,  1 81 3,  in  Edinburgh,  where  she  still 
resides.  She  is  also  the  author  of  many 
original  pieces  of  religious  poetry  of  rare 
merit,  gathered  in  a  volume  called  Thoughts 
for   Thoughtful  Hours,  published  in  1859. 

88  The  Gates  of  Zion.  8s,  7s,  7. 
Open  now  thy  gates  of  beauty, 

Zion,  let  me  enter  there. 
Where  my  soul  in  joyful  duty 
Waits  for  him  who  answers  prayer: 


Oh,  how  blessed  is  this  place, 
Filled  with  solace,  light,  and  grace. 

2  Yes,  my  God,  I  come  before  thee. 
Come  thou  also  down  to  me  ; 

Where  we  find  thee  and  adore  thee, 
There  a  heaven  on  earth  must  be. 
To  my  heart,  oh,  enter  thou, 
Let  it  be  thy  temple  now. 

3  Thou  my  faith  increase  and  quicken. 
Let  me  keep  thy  gift  divine, 

Howsoe'er  temptations  thicken  ; 

May  thy  word  still  o'er  me  shine. 
As  my  pole-star  through  my  life, 
As  my  comfort  in  my  strife. 

4  Speak,  O  God,  and  I  will  hear  thee, 
Let  thy  will  be  done  indeed  j 

May  I  undisturbed  draw  near  thee 
Whilst  thou  dost  thy  people  feed. 
Here  of  life  the  fountain  flows. 
Here  is  balm  for  all  our  woes. 

Miss  Catharine  Winkworth  was  born  in 
London,  September  13,  1829,  and  died  in 
1878.  She  was  the  daughter  of  Henry  Wink- 
worth  of  Alderley  Edge,  near  Manchester, 
England.  She  published  an  excellent  book 
in  1 869,  called  Christian  Singers  of  Germany, 
and  was  also  helpful  in  all  the  work  which 
has  rendered  Lyra  Germanica  so  popular 
among  English  readers  and  lovers  of  song. 
The  hymn  now  before  us  was  composed  by 
Rev.  Benjamin  Schmolke.  It  was  first  print- 
ed in  1732,  has  seven  stanzas,  and  begins, 
"  Thut  mir  auf  die  schone  Pforte ;"  it  was 
intended  for  a  communion  hymn. 

89  Hallelujah!  85,75,7. 

Unto  thee  be  glory  given, 
Word  incarnate!  evermore; 

Thee  the  spirits  blest  in  heaven, 
Thee  the  angel  choirs  adore ; 

Still  their  hallelujahs  rise 

Midst  the  anthems  of  the  skies. 

2    We  too,  bending  low  before  thee. 

Lord  of  all,  blest  Trinity  ! 
Of  thy  mercy  now  implore  thee, 

That  throughout  eternity 
In  thy  kingdom  we  may  raise 
Hallelujahs  to  thy  praise. 

These  two  stanzas  are  evidently  compiled 
from  a  hymn  beginning,  "  Heaven  with  alle- 
luias ringing,"  which  is  found  with  six  stanzas 
in  Bartibys  Hymnary,  where  it  is  numbered 
401,  and  is  given  without  any  clew  to  its  au- 
thorship except  an  allusion  in  the  general 
preface.  The  author  is  thanked,  with  speci- 
fication of  the  initials  "  H.  M.  C."  in  the  in- 
dex, for  having  furnished  "  most  valuable  aid 
in  translation,"  and  having  permitted  to  the 
compiler  of  that  collection  the  "  use  of  many 
hymns."  It  was  needed,  just  as  it  is,  for  an 
invocation,  or  opening  doxology,  in  a  peculiar 
meter,  and  is  excellent  for  such  a  purpose. 
But  the  previous  stanzas  were  not  appropriate 
for  singing  in  a  promiscuous  assembly  like 
that  for  which  Laudes  Domini  was  prepared, 
and  so  only  a  part  was  chosen.     The  full 


OPENING   OF   SERVICE. 


45 


name  of  the  writer  is  Mrs.  Harriet  M.  Ches- 
ter. She  is  the  widow  of  Harry  Chester,  at 
one  time  an  assistant  secretary  of  the  Com- 
mittee of  Council  of  Education ;  he  died  in 
1868.  She  has  translated  many  German  and 
Latin  hymns  for  the  public  prints  and  Hym- 
nals. 

90  "  Departing  Day."  8s,  4 

'J"he  radiant  morn  hath  passed  away, 
And  spent  too  soon  her  golden  store ; 

The  shadows  of  departing  day 
Creep  on  once  more. 

2  Our  life  is  but  a  fading  dawn  ; 

Its  glorious  noon  how  quickly  past ! 
Lead  us,  O  Christ,  when  all  is  gone. 
Safe  h.>me  at  last. 

3  Oil,  by  thy  soul-inspiring  grace 
Uplilt  our  hearts  to  realms  on  high  ; 

Help  us  to  look  to  that  bright  place 
Beyond  the  sky  ; — 

4  Where  light  and  life  and  joy  and  peace 
In  undivided  empire  reign, 

And  thronging  angels  never  cease 
Their  deathless  strain  ; — 

5  Where  saints  are  clothed  in  spotless  white, 
And  evening  shadows  never  fall : 

Where  thou,  eternal  Light  of  light. 
Art  Lord  of  all  ! 

Rev.  Godfrey  Thring,  the  author  of  this 
hymn,  was  born  at  Alford  in  England,  March 
25,  1823.  He  was  educated  at  Shrewsbury 
School,  and  was  graduated  at  Balliol  College, 
Oxford,  in  1845.  In  1858  he  succeeded  his 
father  as  the  rector  of  Alford,  Somersetshire, 
and  became  the  prebendary  of  Wells.  Forty 
of  his  hymns  were  issued  in  a  volume,  1866. 
He  also  compiled  the  Church  of  England 
Hyinn-book  in  1880.  This  hymn  was  found 
in  Hymns,  Ancient  and  Modern,  in  the  edi- 
tion of  1868.  It  is  certainly  very  beautiful  in 
sentiment  and  rhythm. 

91  "We  Follow  Thee."  8s,  4. 

Through  good  report  and  evil,  Lord, 
Still  guided  by  thy  faithful  word — 
Our  staff,  our  buckler,  and  our  sword — 
We  follow  thee. 

2  With  enemies  on  every  side. 
We  lean  on  thee,  the  Crucified  ; 
Forsaking  all  on  earth  beside. 

We  follow  thee. 

3  O  Master,  point  thou  out  the  way, 
Nor  s'lffer  thou  our  steps  to  stray  ; 
Then  in  that  path  thai  leads  to  day 

We  follow  thee. 

4  Thou  hast  passed  on  before  our  face; 
Thy  footsteps  on  the  way  we  trace : 
Oh,  keep  us.  aid  us  by  thy  grace: 

We  follow  thee. 

5  Whom  have  we  in  the  heaven  above. 
Whom  on  this  earth,  save  thee,  to  love? 
Still  ill  thy  light  we  onwnrd  move  ; 

We  follow  thee. 

The  compiler  of  Landes  Do7m7ti  has  been 
heard  to  say  that  this  hymn  of  Dr.  Horatius 
Bonar  was  introduced  to  his  notice  in  the 
ordinary    service    at    the    Regent's    Square 


Church,  in  London,  in  a  period  of  his  long- 
continued  illness  and  depression ;  it  was  sung 
to  the  tune  as  here  set,  "  Sarum,"  and  filled 
the  whole  room  of  worship  with  glorious 
sound  of  human  voices  and  hearts :  "  And  no 
one  knew  of  .the  stranger  there,  nor  ever 
thought  how  such  a  song  lifted  him  as  never 
song  lifted  him  before." 

92  Sabbath  Rest.  Ss,  4. 

Hail,  sacred  day  of  earthly  rest, 
From  toil  secure  and  trouble  free  ; 

Hail,  quiet  spirit,  bringing  peace 
And  joy  to  me. 

2  A  holy  stillness,  breathing  calm 
And  peace  on  all  the  world  around. 

Uplifts  my  soul,  O  God,  to  thee. 
Where  rest  is  found. 

3  No  sound  of  jarring  strife  is  heard, 
As  now  the  weekly  labors  cease  ; 

No  voice  but  those  that  sweetly  sing 
Sweet  songs  of  peace. 

4  Accept,  O  God,  my  hymn  of  praise 
That  thou  this  restful  day  hast  given. 

Sweet  foretaste  of  that  endless  day 
Of  rest  in  heaven. 

Another  of  Rev.  Godfrey  Thring's  pieces 
of  poetry,  composed  evidently  under  the  full 
inspiration  of  a  Sabbath  evening  rest.  The 
compiler  of  Latedes  Domini  found  this  piece 
in  a  small  fugitive  collection  of  religious 
poems ;  no  names  were  affixed  to  any  of 
them,  and  no  clew  to  the  sources  from  which 
they  were  obtained  was  given.  He  chose 
this  as  one  of  the  most  attractive  hymns  he 
had  gained  for  a  long  time  ;  it  appeared  fairly 
necessary  to  the  place  and  adaptation  he  could 
assign  to  it.  But  one  line  in  each  stanza  was 
too  long  by  a  word  for  the  music ;  it  was 
necessary  to  find  now  and  then  an  expletive, 
and  then  the  gain  was  secured.  Afterward 
he  found  out,  by  what  is  sometimes  called  a 
happy  accident,  that  the  poem  was  composed 
by  the  author  whose  name  it  now  bears.  The 
date  of  this  writer's  earliest  hymns  is  1862. 

93  The  Hour  of  Prayer.  8s,  4. 

Mv  God,  is  any  hour  so  sweet. 

From  blush  of  morn  to  evening  star, 
As  that  which  calls  me  to  thy  feet— 

The  hour  of  prayer  ? 

2  Then  is  my  strength  by  thee  renewed  ; 
Then  are  my  sins  h\  thee  forgiven  ; 

Then  dost  thou  cheer  my  solitude 
With  hopes  of  heaven. 

3  No  words  can  tell  what  sweet  relief 
Here  for  mv  everv  want  I  find  : 

What  strength  for  warfare,  balm  for  grief. 
What  peace  of  mind  ! 

4  Hushed  is  each  doubt,  gone  every  fear ; 
My  spirit  seems  in  heaven  to  stay  ; 

And  ev'n  the  penitential  tear 
Is  wiped  away. 

5  Lord,  till  I  reach  yon  blissful  shore. 
No  privilege  so  dear  shall  be 

As  thus  my  inmost  soul  to  pour 
In  prayer  to  thee. 


46 


PRAYER   AND    INVOCATION. 


MISS  CHARLOTTE   ELLIOTT. 


Miss  Charlotte  Elliott  was  born  near  Bright- 
on, in  England,  March  i8,  1789;  she  was  the 
granddaughter  of  the  Rev.  Henry  Venn,  of 
Huddersfield.  Her  early  life  was  spent  at 
Clapham,  but  in  1823  she  removed  to  Brighton 
permanently.  She  was  never  robust,  and 
often  was  feeble,  but  her  mind  was  clear  and 
her  imagination  vivid.  She  loved  poetry,  and 
music  was  her  delight.  This  seems  to  have 
given  to  her  poems  that  sense  of  exquisite 
finish  in  rhythm.  She  offered  only  about  one 
hundred  and  fifty  hymns  to  the  public ;  but 
almost  all  of  these  are  now  in  wide  and  com- 
mon use.  Some  time  in  1834  she  published 
the  Invalid's  Hyinn-Book,  to  which  she  con- 
tributed from  her  own  pen  1 1 5  pieces,  in- 
cluding this  and  the  other  by  which  she  is 
most  widely  known,  "  Just  as  I  am,  without 
one  plea."  After  the  death  of  her  father  in 
1833,  and  of  her  mother  and  two  sisters  in 
1843,  their  home  was  given  up,  and  in  1845 
she  went  with  her  sole  surviving  sister  for 
awhile  to  dwell  upon  the  Continent.  Return- 
ing, they  settled  at  Torquay,  and  lived  there 
in  peace  for  fourteen  years ;  by-and-by  they 
went  to  Brighton  again,  where  at  last,  at  the 
great  age  of  eighty-two  years.  Miss  Elliott 
passed  away,  September  22,  1871,  in  the  full 
hope  and  triumph  of  the  gospel  she  had  sung 
so  long. 


94  Evening  Psalm  7s,  5. 

Three  in  One,  and  One  in  Three, 
Ruler  of  the  earth  and  st-a. 
Hear  us,  while  we  lift  to  thee 
Holy  chant  and  psahn. 

2  Light  of  lights,  with  morning  shine  ; 
Lift  on  us  thy  light  divine  ; 

And  let  charity  benign 

Breathe  on  us  her  balm. 

3  Light  of  lights,  when  falls  the  even, 
Let  it  close  on  sin  forgiven ; 

Fold  us  in  the  peace  of  heaven, 
Shed  a  vesper  calm. 

4  Three  in  One,  and  One  in  Three, 
Darkling  here  we  worship  thee  ; 
With  the  saints  hereafter  we 

Hope  to  hear  the  palm. 

Rev.  Gilbert  Rorison,  LL.  D.,  made  a  col- 
lection of  hymns  in  1851  for  the  use  of  his 
own  congregation,  in  which  this  one  appears. 
The  author  was  born  in  Glasgow,  Scotland, 
February  7, 1821.  His  life  was  spent  in  Scot- 
land ;  educated  at  Glasgow  University,  he 
commenced  an  excellent  and  useful  ministry 
in  Aberdeenshire,  as  the  incumbent  of  St. 
Peter's  Episcopal  Church  in  Peterhead.  He 
died  at  Bridge  of  Allan,  October  11,  1869. 
This  hymn  is  a  sufficient  monument  for  any 
man ;  it  is  full  of  reverent  devotion,  so  sim- 
ple, so  orthodox,  so  gentle  and  unaffected, 
that  it  commends  itself  directly  to  our  sym- 
pathies and  needs. 

95  Jesus,  Have  Mercy.  7s,  5. 

Lord  of  mercy  and  of  might. 
Of  mankind  the  life  and  light, 
Maker,  Teacher,  Infinite — 
Jesus,  hear  and  save ! 

2  Strong  Creator,  Saviour  mild, 
Humbled  to  a  mortal  child. 
Captive,  beaten,  bound,  reviled — 

Jesus,  hear  and  save ! 

3  Throned  above  celestial  things, 
Borne  aloft  on  angels'  wings. 
Lord  of  lords,  and  King  of  kings, 

Jesus,  hear  and  save  1 

4  Soon  to  come  to  earth  again, 
Judge  of  angels  and  of  men, 
Hear  us  now,  and  hear  us  then, 

Jesus,  hear  and  save  ! 

Rev.  Reginald  Heber,  D.  D.,  was  born  at 
Malpas,  in  Cheshire,  England,  April  21,  1783. 
His  father  was  a  clergyman  of  the  Church  of 
England,  in  charge  of  the  parish  in  which  this 
child,  called  by  his  name,  first  saw  the  light. 
The  boy  had  fine  chances  for  education  in 
mind  as  well  as  improvement  in  taste,  and 
early  displayed  marked  abilities  for  composi- 
tion. He  is  said  to  have  rendered  Phadriis 
into  verse  before  he  was  seven  years  of  age. 
In  1 800  he  entered  Brazenose  College,  Oxford; 
there  he  took  prize  after  prize  during  a  most 
brilliant  career  of  literary  success.  Taking 
orders  in  the  ministry  as  his  calling  in  life,  he 
began  preaching  at  Hodnet  in  1807.  In  1822 
he  was  invited  to  the  important  and   honor- 


PRAYER   AND   INVOCATION. 


47 


REGINALD  HEBER. 

able  pulpit  of  Lincoln's  Inn,  London.  But 
the  next  year  he  was  appointed  Bishop  of  Cal- 
cutta, and  sailed  at  once  for  his  work  as  a 
missionary.  But  his  labor  was  brief ;  he  died 
April  3,  1826.  His  was  an  intense  Hfe ;  it 
has  moved  the  world ;  but  it  was  only  a  few 
years  in  length.  He  died  very  suddenly  ;  he 
had  been  busy  in  a  confirmation  service,  be- 
came heated  in  that  inhospitable  climate, 
and  was  found  dead  in  an  apoplectic  fit  in 
the  bath  to  which  he  had  gone.  This  hymn 
first  appeared  in  the  Christian  Observer  in 
1811.  It  was  usually  sung  on  Quinquagesima 
Sunday,  when  the  gospel  for  the  day  has  the 
account  of  Christ's  healing  of  the  blind  man 
Bartimeus.  Certain  allusions  in  the  phrase- 
ology are  easily  traced  to  that  source. 

96  The  Mercy-Seat.  L.  M. 

From  everv  stormy  wind  tliat  blows, 
From  every  swelling  tide  of  woes, 
There  is  a  calm,  a  sure  retreat ; 
'T  is  found  beneath  the  mercy-seat. 

2  There  is  a  place  where  Jesus  sheds 
The  oil  of  gladness  on  our  heads — 

A  place  than  all  besides  more  sweet; 
It  IS  the  blood-bought  mercy-seat. 

3  There  is  a  scene  where  spirits  blend, 
Where  friend  holds  fellowship  with  friend  ; 
Though  sundered  far,  by  faith  they  meet 
Around  one  common  mercy-seat. 

4  There,  there,  on  eagle  wings  we  soar, 
And  sense  and  sin  molest  no  more, 

And  heaven  comes  down  our  souls  to  greet, 
And  glory  crowns  the  mercy-seat ! 


5     Oh  !  let  my  hand  forget  lier  skill. 
My  tongue  be  silent,  cold,  and  still, 
This  throbbing  heart  forget  to  beat. 
If  I  forget  the  mercy-seat. 

Rev.  Hugh  Stowell,  the  author  of  this- 
hymn,  afterward  known  as  Canon  Stowell,  of 
Chester  Cathedral,  was  for  awhile  the  popu- 
lar and  beloved  minister  of  Christ  Church, 
Salford.  He  was  the  son  of  a  clergyman, 
and  was  born  at  Douglas,  on  the  Isle  of  Man, 
December  3,  1799.  A  volume  of  religious 
poetry  was  compiled  by  him  and  published  at 
Manchester,  in  England,  1831,  and  in  this 
appeared  the  familiar  hymn  which  has  made 
his  name  dear  all  round  the  world,  with  a 
few  others  of  his.  The  title  of  this  one  was 
"  Peace  at  the  Mercy-Seat."  It  had  been 
contributed  earliest  to  a  periodical.  The  Win- 
ter s  Wreath,  in  1827.  The  author  seems  to 
have  enjoyed  much  favor  and  success  in  his 
career.  In  181 8  he  entered  St.  Edmund's 
Hall,  Oxford,  graduated  in  1822,  and  took 
orders  in  1823.  First  as  a  curate  in  York- 
shire, then  as  incumbent  of  St.  Stephen's 
Church,  Salford,  he  gathered  such  crowds  to 
hear  the  plain  truths  of  the  gospel  that  the 
people  cheerfully  gave  their  money  to  erect 
the  large  and  elegant  structure  of  Christ 
Church,  Salford,  in  which  delighted  thou- 
sands attended  his  ministry.  In  1845  he  was 
made  an  Honorary  Canon  of  Chester,  and 
afterward  Rural  Dean  of  Salford.  He  was 
an  enemy  to  Tractarianism,  and  a  sound 
Evangelical  Churchman.  He  also  wrote  the 
Jubilee  Hymn  for  the  British  and  Foreign 
Bible  Society.  He  died  at  Salford,  on  the 
Sabbath  day,  October  8,  1865.  To  the  ques- 
tion put  to  him  in  his  very  last  moments,  "  Is 
Jesus  with  you  and  precious  to  you  ?"  he 
answered  calmly,  and  without  any  hesitation, 
"  Yes ;  so  that  he  is  all  in  all  to  me." 

97  "  The  Evil  Hour."  L.  M. 

Where  high  the  heavenly  temple  stands. 
The  house  of  God  not  made  with  hands, 
A  great  High  Priest  our  nature  wears — 
The  Guardian  of  mankind  appears. 

2  Though  now  ascended  up  on  high, 
He  bends  on  earth  a  brother's  eye ; 
Partaker  of  the  human  name. 

He  knows  the  frailty  of  our  frame. 

3  Our  Fellow-suflFerer  yet  retains 
A  fellow-feeling  of  our  pains  ; 
And  still  remembers,  in  the  skies, 
His  tears,  his  agonies,  and  cries. 

4  In  every  pang  that  rends  the  heart 
The  Man  of  Sorrows  liad  a  part ; 

He  sympathizes  with  our  grief. 
And  to  the  sufferer  sends  relief. 

LWith  boldness,  therefore,  at  the  throne, 
et  us  make  all  our  sorrows  known  ; 
And  ask  the  aid  of  heavenly  power 
To  help  us  in  the  evil  hour. 

Michael  Bruce,  the  author  of  this  hymn. 


48 


PRAYER    AND    INVOCATION. 


was  unfortunate  in  choosing  his  friends,  or 
else  he  was  betrayed  by  Rev.  John  Logan,  a 
minister  in  the  Scotch  Presbyterian  Church  of 
Leith,  who  had  been  his  intimate  in  college. 
This  plagiarist  seems  to  have  deliberately  set 
his  name  to  some  of  Bruce's  best  composi- 
tions, and  so  claimed  them  as  his  own.  A 
justification  of  the  matter  has  been  effected 
among  literary  people  in  these  late  years,  and 
it  is  now  admitted  ever\'A\'here  that  this,  which 
is  found  in  the  Paraphrases  of  Scripture  per- 
mitted to  be  used  in  connection  with  Rous' 
version  of  the  Psalms,  was  the  production  of 
Bruce  while  he  was  studying  for  the  ministr)^ 
He  was  born  at  Kinnesswood,  in  the  county 
of  Kinross,  Scotland,  March  27,  1746.  In 
early  life  he  herded  cattle,  and  learned  his 
lessons  of  poetry  from  nature  directly.  He 
entered  college,  a  very  poor  boy,  at  the  age  of 
fifteen,  and  soon  was  on  the  regular  course  of 
study  at  Edinburgh  University.  He  had  to 
teach  school  in  order  to  pay  expenses ;  but 
salaries  were  small  in  the  rural  neighbor- 
hoods, living  was  rough  and  meager.  The 
young  man's  constitution  was  slender,  his 
health  suffered ;  rooms  were  damp  and  com- 
rades were  few.  He  broke  down  in  spirits 
and  in  strength.  His  chest  failed  him  ;  con- 
sumption did  its  work  speedily  and  relent- 
lessly. July  5,  1767,  he  died  at  Kinnesswood 
little  more  than  twenty-three  years  old.  His 
life  was  sad,  his  heart  was  heavy ;  but  his 
faith  was  strong  and  his  hope  unfaltering. 
Under  the  pillow  he  died  upon  his  Bible  was 
found,  and  the  words  were  marked  in  Jer. 
22 :  10:  "  Weep  ye  not  for  the  dead,  neither 
bemoan  him;  but  weep  sore  for  him  that 
goeth  away  :  for  he  shall  return  no  more,  nor 
see  his  native  country'." 


98 


L.  M. 


The  Mercy-Seat. 

Jksus,  where'er  thy  people  meet, 
There  they  behold  thy  mercy-seat ; 
Where'er  they  seek  thee  thou  art  found, 
And  every  place  is  hallowed  ground. 

2    For  thou,  within  no  walls  confined, 
Iiihabitest  the  humble  mind  ; 
Such  ever  bring  thee  where  they  come, 
Ami  going,  take  thee  to  their  home. 

X    Great  Shepherd  of  thy  chosen  few, 
Thy  former  mercies  here  renew  ; 
Here  to  our  waiting  hearts  proclaim 
The  sweetness  of  thy  saving  name. 

4    Here  may  we  prove  the  power  of  prayer 
To  strengthen  faith  and  sweeten  care, 
To  teach  our  faint  desires  to  rise. 
And  bring  all  heaven  before  our  eyes. 

When  the  prayer-meeting  at  Olney  was  re- 
moved to  a  larger  room,  William  Cowper 
WTOte  this  hymn  to  be  sung  in  the  opening 
service.  The  piece  was  afterward  published 
in  the  volume  of  Olney  Hyfuns,  \77().  It  is 
founded   upon   the   familiar  promise  of  the 


Lord's  presence  with  even  a  few  worshipers. 
As  we  sing  it,  our  minds  are  arrested  bv  the  su- 
preme thought  of  the  wonderful  preciousness 
and  availableness  of  prayer  as  an  instrument 
of  communication  with  God.  What  could 
we  poor  mortals  do  without  it  here  on  the 
earth?  In  one  of  the  public  gatherings  not 
many  months  ago  an  old  sailor  rose  to  make 
some  remarks.  He  said  :  "  One  of  our  boats 
was  dashed  to  pieces  at  sea ;  six  of  the  men 
clung  to  the  fragments  ;  three  days  they  were 
without  help  ;  for  we  in  the  distant  ship  could 
not  find  them.  They  told  us  afterward  that 
the  most  awful  and  lonely  thought  they  had 
in  those  dreadful  hours  was  that  they  could 
do  nothing  to  make  us  hear  them ;  and  that 
made  me  think  of  our  prayers  to  God :  what 
if  a  man  was  just  so  cut  off  that  he  could  not 
pray ;  what  if,  when  we  were  floating  around 
on  this  mighty  ocean  of  peril,  we  had  no  voice 
that  could  be  sent  over  in  any  way  to  heaven !" 


WILLIAM  COWPER. 


There  are  three  portraits  of  Cowper,  by 
three  distinguished  painters :  Abbot,  Rom- 
ney,  and  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence.  These  were 
all  taken  within  a  short  time.  That  by  Ab- 
bot, an  oil  painting,  was  taken  in  July,  1792, 
at  Weston ;  that  by  Romney,  in  crayons,  in 
August  and  September  of  the  same  year, 
when  the  poet  was  on  a  visit  to  Hpyley,  at 
Eartham  ;  and  that  by  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence, 
at  Weston,  in  October,  1793.  The  portrait 
which  is  most  familiarly  known,  having  been 
often  engraved,  and  appearing  in  various  edi- 
tions of  the  poems,  was  painted  after  his 
death,  from  the  portraits  of  Abbot  and  Law- 
rence, by  Jackson,  R.  A.,  and  is  now  in  the 
possession  of  Earl  Cowper,  at   Penshanger, 


PRAYER  AND    INVOCATION. 


49 


Hertfordshire.  The  artist  has  very  success- 
fully combined  the  characteristic  points  of  the 
portraits  taken  from  life,  and  gives  an  excel- 
lent idea  of  the  poet  when  a  littlj  over  sixty 
years  of  age. 

Mr.  Jackson,  in  his  picture,  retained  the 
well-known  cap,  which  the  poet  was  accus- 
tomed to  wear  in  the  morning,  when  at  work, 
either  in  parlor  or  garden.  When  in  consul- 
tation with  Dean  Stanley  as  to  the  portrait  to 
be  chosen  for  the  stained  glass  memorial  win- 
dow in  Westminster  Abbey  (the  gift  of  Mr. 
G.  W.  Childs,  of  Philadelphia),  the  Dean  said, 
"  We  must  have  the  cap  at  all  events,  for 
everyone  knows  him  in  that  better  than  in  the 
wig."  It  is  is  a  curious  head-dress,  but  it 
was  comfortable,  not  unbecoming,  and  it  was 
not  the  poet's  own  choosing ;  it  was  the  gift 
of  his  cousin,  Lady  Hesketh.  The  fact  is  im- 
mortalized in  the  lines  entitled  "  Gratitude  ": 

"  The  cap  that  so  stately  appears,  with  ribbon-bound 

tassel  on  high, 
Which  seems,  by  the  crest  that  it  rears,  ambitious  of 

brushing  the  sky  ; 
This  cap  to  my  cousin  I  owe — she  gave  it,  and  gave 

me  beside. 
Wreathed  in  an  elegant  bow,  the  ribbon  with  which 

it  is  tied.'" 

So  we  see  that  Cowper,  along  with  his 
grateful  feeling  for  the  comfortable  head-dress, 
was  quite  aware  of  the  odd  appearance  of 
what  he  thus  humorously  describes.  Rom- 
ney  and  Lawrence  both  painted  him  in  this 
cap,  and  Jackson  very  wisely  adopted  it  in 
the  posthumous  portrait. 

Over  almost  the  whole  life  of  William  Cow- 
per hangs,  as  it  were,  a  deep  cloud  of  melan- 
choly. At  the  rare  intervals  when  the  black- 
ness of  darkness  departed,  he  wrote  with  sin- 
gular facility,  quite  voluminously  also,  and 
with  an  originality  and  naturalness  which 
opened  up  a  new  era  in  English  literature. 

This  distinguished  poet  was  born,  Novem- 
ber 26,  1 73 1, at  Berkhampstead,  Hertfordshire. 
He  was  the  son  of  a  clergyman  of  good  fam- 
ily, his  granduncle  being  Lord  Chancellor 
Cowper.  Unfortunately  for  the  happiness  of 
his  future  youth  and  manhood,  the  timid  child 
lost  his  mother  at  the  age  of  six.  At  an  early 
age  he  was  removed  from  a  country  school 
and  sent  to  Westminster  School,  where  he  was 
goaded  almost  to  madness  by  the  usage  he 
received  from  the  rougher  and  less  sensitive 
boys.  This  is  well  reflected  in  the  tone  of 
the  Ttrocinium.  Speaking  of  this  period,  he 
says  himself :  "  Day  and  night  I  was  upon  the 
rack ;  lying  down  in  horror  and  rising  up  in 
despair."  After  he  left  school  he  was  articled 
to  an  attorney  and  spent  three  years  in  his 
ofifice ;  after  which  he  entered  himself  of  the 


Middle  Temple.  An  appointment  received 
by  him  through  the  influence  of  his  uncle,  as 
clerk  of  the  Journals  of  the  House  of  Lords, 
so  wrought  upon  him  from  first  to  last  as  to 
drive  him  actually  insane.  In  the  well-man- 
aged asylum  of  Dr.  Cotton  he  recovered  his 
health.  Returning  to  Huntingdon,  he  became 
acquainted  with  the  family  of  the  Unwins, 
who  devoted  a  great  deal  of  care  to  make  his 
lot  tolerable.  Regular  in  all  his  habits,  de- 
vout, honest,  pure,  with  a  conscience  void  of 
offence  both  toward  God  and  man,  he  had 
the  impression  that  he  was  one  of  those  who 
could  not  be  saved — a  morbid  belief  which 
never  quite  forsook  him. 

When  Unwin  died  Cowper  removed  with 
Mrs.  Unwin  to  Olney.  Here  he  formed  two 
lasting  friendships — one  with  the  Rev.  John 
Newton  and  the  other  with  Lady  Austen.  He 
died  at  East  Dereham,  Norfolk,  April  25, 1800. 

99 


L.  M. 


"  What  Thou  Wilt." 

And  dost  thou  say,  "  Ask  what  thou  wilt " 
Lord.  I  would  seize  the  golden  hour: 

1  pray  to  be  released  from  guilt, 

And  freed  from  sin  and  Satan's  power. 

2  More  of  thy  presence,  Lord,  impart ; 
More  of  thine  image  let  me  bear: 

Erect  thy  throne  within  my  heart. 
And  reign  without  a  rival  there. 

3  Give  me  to  rea'i  my  pardon  sealed, 
And  from  thy  jov  to  draw  my  strength: 

Oh !  be  thy  boundless  love  revealed 

In  all  its' height  and  breadth  and  lengtli. 

4  Grant  these  requests — I  ask  no  more, 
But  to  thy  care  the  rest  resign: 

Sick,  or  in  health,  or  rich,  or  poor, 
All  shall  be  well  if  thou  art  mine. 


It  would  seem  very  easy  to  find  any  one  of 
John  Newton's  poetical  pieces,  and  especially 
any  one  of  the  hymns  he  gave  to  the  worship 
of  the  churches.  Biit  this  one  went  for  many 
years  without  credit  to  anybody ;  and  yet 
there  it  was  all  the  time  in  the  Olney  Hymns, 
Book  I.,  No.  32.  It  appears  with  eight  stan- 
zas, from  which  those  in  use  at  present  are 
selected.  It  has  a  text  from  i  Kings  3 : 5 
annexed  to  it. 

1 00  Retirement.  CM. 

1  LOVE  to  steal  awhile  away 
From  every  cumbering  care. 

And  spend  the  hours  of  setting  day 
In  humble,  grateful  prayer. 

2  I  love  in  solitude  to  shed 
The  penitential  tear, 

And  all  his  promises  to  plead. 
Where  none  but  God  can  hear. 

3  I  love  to  tiiink  on  mercies  past, 
And  future  good  implore, 

And  all  my  cares  and  sorrows  cast 
On  him  whom  I  adore. 

4  I  love  by  faith  to  take  a  view 
Of  brighter  scenes  in  heaven  ; 

The  prospect  doth  my  strength  renew. 
While  here  by  tempests  driven. 


5° 


PRAYER    AND    INVOCATION. 


5    Thus,  when  life's  toilsome  day  is  o'er, 

May  its  departing  ray 
Be  calm  as  this  impressive  hour, 

And  lead  to  endless  day. 


MKS.    PHCEBE   H.   BROWN. 


Mrs.  Phoebe  Hinsdale  Brown  was  the  daugh- 
ter of  George  Hinsdale,  and  was  born  at 
Canaan,  N.  Y.,  May  i,  1783.  In  reply  to  a 
question  addressed  to  her  by  Rev.  Elias  Na- 
son,  she  answered  :  "  As  to  my  history,  it 
is  soon  told :  a  sinner  saved  by  grace  and 
sanctified  by  trials."  An  orphan  at  two  years 
of  age,  she  came  upon  the  world  in  a  some- 
what poverty-stricken  plight,  and  had  to  meet 
its  rough  ways  as  best  she  could.  She  did 
not  learn  to  read  until  she  was  eighteen  years 
old,  and  it  is  recorded  that  she  never  had 
m.ore  than  three  months'  schooling  in  the 
whole  of  her  life.  Timothy  H.  Brown,  a 
house-painter,  married  the  affectionate  and 
faithful  creature,  and  she  went  to  live  in  El- 
lington, Tolland  County,  Conn.  She  was  po- 
etic by  temperament,  dreamy,  a  lover  of  na- 
ture, and  deeply  religious.  Her  life  was  hard, 
her  children  were  fretful,  neighbors  could  not 
understand  her  when  she  went  a\\ay  into  an 
adjacent  grove  to  be  by  herself  and  pray. 
Gossips  gave  other  reasons.  Then  she  some- 
how composed  a  poem  in  nine  simple  stan- 
zas, entitling  it  "  An  Apology  for  my  Twilight 
Rambles,  Addressed  to  a  Lady."  This  bears 
date  of  Ellington,  August,  1818."  This  hymn, 
as  it  now  generally  appears,  was  published  in 
Village  Hymns,  compiled  by  Nettleton. 

She  afterward  told  a  friend  that  the  piece 
was  kept  in  a  portfolio  for  a  long  time,  and 
probably  Rev.  Lavius  Hyde  got  hold  of  it, 


and  so  it  came  to  Mr.  Nettleton,  who  after- 
ward applied  to  her  for  some  few  more  of  the 
same  sort.  She  furnished  two  or  three,  but 
they  were  less  valuable  than  the  first  one,  and 
needed  modification.  She  once  wrote  that 
when  her  spot  among  the  trees  was  broken 
up  she  often  "  thought  Satan  had  tried  his 
best  to  prevent  [her]  from  prayer  by  depriving 
[her]  of  a  place  to  pray."  Whether  this  was 
true  or  not,  her  later  poetry  did  not  fulfill  the 
promise  of  this  hymn  by  which  she  is  best 
known.  She  lived  at  Monson,  Mass.,  subse- 
quently, where  Nettleton  says  he  formerly 
found  her  "  in  a  very  humble  cottage ;"  then 
removed  to  Henry,  III.,  and  there  she  died, 
October  10,  1861,  and  was  buried  at  Monson 
at  last. 

101  Prayer  Has  Power.  C.  M. 

There  is  an  eye  that  never  sleeps 

Beneath  the  wing  of  night ; 
There  is  an  ear  that  ne\  er  shuts 

When  sink  the  beams  of  light. 

2  There  is  an  arm  that  never  tires 
When  human  strength  gives  way  ; 

There  is  a  love  that  never  fails 
When  earthly  loves  decay. 

3  That  eye  is  fixed  on  seraph  throngs ; 
That  arm  upholds  the  sky ; 

That  ear  is  filled  with  angel  songs; 
That  love  is  throned  on  high. 

4  But  there  's  a  power  which  man  can  wield 
When  mortal  aid  is  vam. 

That  eye,  that  arm,  that  love  to  reach. 
That  listening  ear  to  gain. 

5  That  power  is  prayer,  which  soars  on  high. 
Through  Jesus,  to  the  throne  ; 

And  moves  the  hand  which  moves  the  world. 
To  bring  salvation  down  ! 

Rev.  James  Cowden  Wallace  was  a  Uni- 
tarian minister,  born  at  Dudley,  in  England, 
about  the  year  1793.  He  was  settled  in  the 
pastorate  first  in  Totnes  in  1824,  and  after- 
wards at  W'areham,  where  he  died  in  1841. 
He  wrote  many  poems  and  other  pieces  for 
the  Afont/ily  Repository.  The  name  of  this 
author  has  in  several  critical  volumes  been 
given  as  John  Aikman  Wallace,  and  he  has 
been  announced  as  a  clerg}'man  of  the  Pres- 
byterian Free  Church  in  Scotland ;  both  of 
these  statements  are  mistaken. 

This  hymn  is  suggested  by  the  inspired 
verse :  "  Behold,  he  that  keepeth  Israel  shall 
neither  slumber  nor  sleep."  It  is  worthwhile 
to  give  a  thought  like  that  fixed  lodgment  in 
our  hearts ;  it  is  very  wonderful.  Sleep  is  a 
concession  to  human  weakness  and  frailty.  It 
is  of  necessity  that  things  which  wear  out 
should  have  time  to  recuperate.  But  a  fright- 
ful part  of  our  lives  is  lost  in  such  a  waste  of 
the  hours  of  night  after  night  for  three-score 
years  and  ten.  Sleep  is  of  the  earth,  earthy. 
It  is  not  needed  in  heaven ;  it  is  not  permit- 


PRAYER   AND   INVOCATION. 


ted  in  hell ;  we  shall  grow  happier  when  we 
are  rid  of  it.  God  never  has  needed  anything 
of  that  kind ;  the  inspired  singer  has  told  us 
that  twice  in  one  psalm  of  only  eight  verses, 
giving  two  of  them  to  the  reiteration  of  the 
sentiment.  "  The  Lord  is  thy  keeper  :  the 
Lord  is  thy  shade  upon  thy  right  hand.  The 
sun  shall  not  smite  thee  by  day,  nor  the  moon 
by  night.  The  Lord  shall  preserve  thee  from 
all  evil :  he  shall  preserve  thy  soul.  He  will 
not  suffer  thy  foot  to  be  moved  :  he  that  keep- 
eth  thee  will  not  slumber." 

102  "  Two  or  Three."  C.  M. 

Wherever  two  or  three  may  meet 

To  worship  in  thy  name, 
Bending  beneath  thy  mercy-seat. 

This  promise  they  may  claim  : — 

2  Jesus  in  love  will  condescend 
To  bless  the  hallowed  place  ; 

The  Saviour  will  himself  attend, 
And  show  his  smiling  face. 

3  How  bright  the  assurance  !  gracious  Lord, 
Fountain  of  peace  and  love. 

Fulfill  to  us  thy  precious  word. 
Thy  loving-kindness  prove. 

Thomas  Hastings,  Mus.  Doc,  gave  this 
hymn  in  manuscript  to  the  compiler  of  Songs 
for  the  Sanchtary,  in  which  it  was  first  pub- 
lished in  1865.  It  chose  its  theme  from  Matt. 
1 8  :  20.  Half  a  score  of  the  sacred  poets  have 
taken  the  same  text  for  their  inspiration ; 
Cowper  and  Wesley,  Fawcett  and  Kelly, 
Watts  and  Carlyle,  Newton  and  Anne  Steele, 
have  in  turn  clung  to  the  verse  and  pressed 
the  argument  contained  in  it.  Matthew  Hen- 
ry once  gave  the  counsel  that  always  ought  to 
be  kept  in  remembrance  by  devout  and  affec- 
tionate souls.  "  Whatever  God  gives  you  in  a 
promise,"  said  he,  "  be  sure  to  send  back  to 
him  in  a  prayer." 

1 03  The  Mercy-Seat.  C.  M. 

Dear  Father,  to  thy  mercy-seat 

My  soul  for  shelter  flies ; 
'T  is  here  I  find  a  safe  retreat 

When  storms  and  tempests  rise. 

2  My  cheerful  hope  can  never  die. 
If  thou,  my  God,  art  near ; 

Thy  grace  can  raise  my  comforts  high. 
And  banish  every  fear. 

3  '^'ly  great  Protector  and  my  Lord, 
Thy  constant  aid  impart  ; 

Oh,  let  thy  kind,  thy  gracious  word 
Sustain  my  trembling  heart  I 

4  Oh,  never  let  my  soul  remove 
From  this  divine  retreat ! 

Still  let  me  trust  thy  power  and  love. 
And  dwell  beneath  thy  feet. 

This  hymn,  written  by  Miss  Anne  Steele, 
and  included  in  the  volume  she  published  un- 
der the  name  of  "  Theodosia,"  1760,  is  re- 
markable for  the  power  it  wields  over  our 
deepest  sympathies ;  its  very  simplicity  is  its 
charm.      Cyprian,  the  ancient  father  in  the 


Church,  whose  name  has  been  held  reverently 
in  the  memory  of  Christendom  since  the  day 
when  first  he  made  Africa  illustrious  nearly 
sixteen  centuries  ago,  has  beautifully  de- 
scribed the  benefit  and  delight  which  he  found 
in  retired  prayer  and  meditation :  "  That  no 
profane  listener  may  hinder  my  musings,  and 
no  domestic  clamor  drown  them,  I  withdraw 
to  a  recess  in  the  neighboring  solitude,  where 
the  creeping  tendrils  of  the  young  vines  form 
a  shady  arbor.  Behold  !  there  I  obtain  a  feel- 
ing of  truth  which  learning  could  not  give, 
and  drink  in,  from  the  quick  impartings  of 
divine  grace,  stores  of  heavenly  thought  which 
long  years  of  study  could  never  supply." 

104  "  Weary,  Heavy  Laden.''''  CM. 

Approach,  my  soul  I  the  mercy-seat 

Where  Jesus  answers  prayer ; 
There  humbly  fall  before  his  feet. 
For  none  can  perish  there. 

2  Thy  promise  is  my  only  plea. 
With  this  I  venture  nigh: 

Thou  callest  burdened  souls  to  thee, 
And  such,  O  Lord  !  am  I. 

3  Bowed  down  beneath  a  load  of  sin. 
By  Satan  sorely  pressed  ; 

By  war  without  and  fears  within, 
I  come  to  thee  for  rest. 

4  Be  thou  my  shield  and  hiding-place, 
That,  sheltered  near  thy  side, 

I  may  my  fierce  accuser  face, 
And  tell  him — thou  hast  died. 

5  Oh,  wondrous  Love — to  bleed  and  die, 
To  bear  the  cross  and  shame. 

That  guilty  siuTiers,  such  as  I, 
Might  plead  thy  gracious  name  I 

This  is  by  Rev.  John  Newton,  and  in  the 
Olney  Hymns  it  is  No.  12  of  Book  HI.  The 
hymn  just  previous  to  this  in  that  collection  is 
entitled,  "  The  Effort,"  and  begins  with  the 
line,  "  Cheer  up,  my  soul,  there  is  a  mercy- 
seat."  This  is  entitled  "  The  Effort ;  in  anoth- 
er measure."     It  consists  of  six  stanzas. 

Some  commentators  have  seemed  to  find 
here  the  evidence  of  George  Herbert's  influ- 
ence upon  Newton's  composition.  It  is  true 
that  Herbert  was  a  great  favorite  with  both 
of  the  Olney  poets;  but  I  cannot  connect 
such  a  strain  of  deep  penitence  and  humble 
pleading  for  pardon  with  so  quiet  and  medi- 
tative a  model.  To  me  it  appears  like  one  of 
those  cries  of  this  man's  soul  out  of  the  depths 
in  which  it  lay  during  the  early  years  of  his 
experience.  There  are  other  hymns,  evident- 
ly composed  in  much  more  assured  and  joy- 
ful periods  of  his  history.  When  the  story  of 
his  association  with  William  Cowper  opened, 
and  those  dear  intimacies  began  in  the  Olney 
parsonage,  his  song  rose  to  the  heights  of 
serene  confidence  and  joy.  Most  of  us  who 
take  these  matchless  lyrics  on  our  lips  find  we 
have  use  for  them  all  in  our  penitence  and  in 
our  pardon. 


52 


PRAYER   AND   INVOCATION. 


1 05  Gen.  32  :  26. 

Lord  !  I  cannot  let  thee  go 
Till  a  blessing  thou  bestow  ; 
Do  not  turn  away  thy  face, 
Mine  's  an  urgent,  pressing  case. 

2  Once  a  sinner,  near  despair, 
Sought  thy  mercy-seat  by  prayer; 
Mercy  heard  and  set  him  free — 
Lord  !  that  mercy  came  to  me. 

3  Many  days  have  passed  since  then, 
Many  changes  I  have  seen  ; 

Yet  have  been  upheld  till  now  ; 
Who  could  hold  me  up  but  thou  ? 

4  Thou  hast  helped  in  every  need — 
This  emboldens  me  to  plead  ; 
After  so  much  mercy  past, 

Canst  thou  let  me  sink  at  last  ? 

5  No — I  must  maintain  my  hold  ; 
'T  is  thy  goodness  makes  me  bold ; 
I  can  no  denial  take, 

Since  I  plead  for  Jesus'  sake. 

This  hymn  by  Rev.  John  Newton  may  prof- 
itably be  compared  with  the  magnificent  poem 
of  Charles  Wesley  known  as  "  Wrestling 
Jacob."  Both  are  founded  upon  the  experi- 
ence of  the  patriarch  at  Penuel  (Gen.  32  :  26). 
This  one  in  particular  pictures  to  us  the 
matchless  mercy  of  God.  We  can  talk  to 
him  in  our  own  plain,  artless,  unconstrained 
way,  and  he  takes  pleasure  in  listening  to  us. 
Here,  in  the  inspired  history,  a  poor  mortal  of 
no  higher  fame  or  name  than  a  herdsman 
had  power  to  prevail  in  a  contest  for  a  bless- 
ing with  the  omnipotent  God,  and  received  a 
new  name  as  a  princely  prevailer  with  the 
Highest. 

There  is  no  hope  of  advantage  in  any  at- 
tempt to  follow  up  this  mere  historic  incident 
as  a  fact.  When  the  wrestle  ends  that  ends 
its  instruction.  But  this  was  no  ordinary 
part  of  Jacob's  biography.  It  is  evident  that 
it  was  so  truly  intended  to  be  an  emblem  of 
wistful  and  importunate  supplication  that  the 
prophet  Hosea  was  inspired,  full  a  thousand 
years  afterward,  to  suggest  its  interpretation. 
The  Christian  Church  has  taken  it  up  at  once  ; 
and  now  the  expression,  "  wrestling  with  the 
angel  of  the  covenant,"  is  as  familiar  as  any 
of  our  household  words  the  world  over. 
"  Yea,  he  had  power  over  the  angel,  and  pre- 
vailed ;  he  wept,  and  made  supplication  unto 
him ;  he  found  him  in  Bethel,  and  there  he 
spake  with  us ;  even  the  Lord  God  of  hosts ; 
the  Lord  is  his  memorial." 

106  God  Everywhere.  7S. 

They  who  seek  the  throne  of  grace 
Find  that  throne  in  every  place  ; 
If  we  live  a  life  of  prayer, 
God  is  present  everywhere. 

2    In  our  sickness  and  our  health. 
In  our  want,  or  in  our  wealth. 
If  we  look  to  God  in  prayer, 
God  is  present  everywhere. 


3  When  our  earthly  comforts  fail, 
When  the  foes  01  life  prevail, 

'T  is  the  time  for  earnest  prayer ; 
God  is  present  everywhere. 

4  Then,  my  soul,  in  every  strait, 
To  thy  Father  come,  and  wait ; 
He  will  answer  every  prayer: 
God  is  present  everywhere. 

Oliver  Holden,  to  whom  this  hymn  is  now 
credited,  was  known  more  widely  by  his  mu- 
sic than  by  his  poetry.  He  was  a  carpenter 
by  trade,  but,  fond  of  music,  he  became  a 
composer  and  at  last  a  teacher.  With  us  he 
has  his  immortality  in  the  tune  Coronatto7i. 
He  issued  at  least  six  collections  of  tunes, 
and  it  is  claimed  that  he  published  a  volume 
of  poetry  containing  some  of  his  own  hymns  ; 
but  the  book  cannot  now  be  found.  Some 
writers  who  are  to  be  trusted  declare  that  this 
piece  has  been  altered  from  a  long  meter  hav- 
ing six  stanzas,  commencing :  "  All  those  who 
seek  a  throne  of  grace,"  and  marked  there,  as 
are  a  few  others,  with  the  initial  "  H."  Oliver 
Holden  was  born  at  Shirley,  Mass.,  Septem- 
ber 18,  1765,  and  died  at  Charlestown,  Mass., 
September  4,  1844.  The  hymn  suggests  a 
season  of  quiet  and  grateful  devotion  after 
trouble,  when  a  believer  longs  to  tell  his  love 
and  gratitude  away  from  all  public  demon- 
stration. It  makes  us  think  of  the  incident 
related  long  ago  of  Grant  Thorburn.  His 
building  had  been  saved  from  absolute  confla- 
gration by  miracles  of  daring  and  patience  in 
fighting  with  fire.  One  of  the  bystanders 
told  that  modest  man :  "  Why,  my  dear  sir, 
you  now  ought  to  kneel  down  here  on  the 
pavement  and  thank  God  for  your  deliver- 
ance !"  But  with  his  usual  diffidence  he  re- 
plied, almost  in  a  whisper  :  "  Tut,  tut !  neigh- 
bor ;  such  things  would  be  better  done  after- 
ward in  one's  private  chamber,  and  with  the 
door  shut !" 

1 07  Quiet  Communion.  7S. 

Stealing  from  the  wf^rld  away. 
We  are  come  to  seek  thy  face  ; 

Kindly  meet  us.  Lord,  we  pray. 
Grant  us  thy  reviving  grace. 

2  Yonder  stars  that  gild  the  sky 
Shine  but  with  a  borrowed  light ; 

We,  unless  thy  light  be  nigh. 
Wander,  wrapt  in  gloomy  night. 

3  Sun  of  Righteousness  !  dispel 

All  our  darkness,  doubts,  and  fears : 
May  thy  light  within  us  dwell, 
Till  eternal  day  appears. 

4  Warm  our  hearts  in  prayer  and  praise, 
Lift  our  every  thought  above  ; 

Hear  the  grateful  songs  we  raise. 
Fill  us  with  thy  perfect  love. 

From  the  date  of  its  first  publication  this 
hymn  of  Dr.  Ray  Palmer  has  been  popular 
and  useful.  It  was  written  in  New  Haven,  in 
1834,  and  the  text  of  Scripture  annexed  to  it 


PRAYER   AND    INVOCATION. 


53 


is  Psalm  36  : 9.  It  resembles  in  its  sentiment, 
though  it  scarcely  equals  it  in  its  strength, 
another  hymn  by  the  same  author,  "  Away 
from  earth  my  spirit  turns."  When  a  New 
England  man,  born  in  a  village,  and  trained 
by  religious  parents  as  a  true  son  of  the  soil, 
reads  such  a  poem  as  this,  the  picture  is  sim- 
ple and  suggestive.  Reminiscences  of  early 
days  render  the  stanzas  in  turn  as  pathetic  as 
they  are  picturesque.  There  is  in  the  hymn 
the  indescribable  quietness  and  humility  of  a 
prayer-meeting,  gathering,  according  to  the 
ordinary  appointment,  "  in  the  vestry  at  early 
candle-light,"  as  it  used  to  be  announced. 
Then  the  fathers  and  mothers  and  children, 
ons  by  one,  would  "  steal "  forth  with  their 
candles  and  their  Village  Hymns.  Those 
were  grand  old  days !  Such  customs  made 
great  men  and  noble  women.  That  training 
told  in  the  after  years.  Some  of  that  genera- 
tion love  to  look  back  for  encouragement  and 
strength  now. 

I08  A  Player  in  Need.  7S. 

Come,  my  soul,  thy  suit  prepare, 
Jesus  loves  to  answer  prayer  ; 
He  himself  has  bid  thee  pray, 
Therefore  will  not  say  thee  nay. 

2  With  my  burden  I  begin: 
Lord  !  remove  this  load  of  sin  ; 
Let  thy  blood,  for  sinners  spilt, 
Set  my  conscience  free  from  guilt. 

3  Lord  !  I  come  to  thee  for  rest  ; 
Take  possession  of  my  breast ; 

There  thy  blood-bought  right  maintain, 
And,  without  a  rival,  reign. 

4  While  I  am  a  pilgrim  here. 
Let  thy  love  my  spirit  cheer  ; 

As  my  Guide,  my  Guard,  my  Friend, 
Lead  me  to  my  journey's  end. 

5  Show  me  what  I  have  to  do, 
Every  hour  my  strength  renew ; 
Let  me  live  a  life  of  faith, 

Let  me  die  thy  people's  death. 

This  is  another  of  Rev.  John  Newton's  con- 
tributions to  the  Olney  Hymns.  It  is  No.  31 
of  Book  I.  There  it  has  seven  stanzas,  and  is 
founded  upon  i  Kings  3:5.  It  owes  some- 
thing of  the  modern  revival  of  its  popularity 
from  the  use  Rev.  C.  H.  Spurgeon  was  wont 
to  make  of  it  in  divine  service.  It  is  said  he 
was  long  accustomed  to  have  one  or  more 
stanzas  of  it  softly  chanted  just  before  the 
principal  prayer.  In  this  way  many  addi- 
tional thousands  of  people  became  familiar 
with  its  words,  and  so  learned  to  love  it.  It 
is  peculiar  in  that  it  fastens  a  devout  man's 
attention  upon  preparation  for  an  approach  to 
the  mercy-seat,  as  well  as  upon  the  petitions 
he  proposes  to  offer  there.  The  exercises  of 
one's  soul  preliminary  to  prayer  are  important, 
and  in  a  great  measure  essential  to  the  rever- 
ence of  the  devotion.     One  of  the  finest  inci- 


dental revelations  of  character  found  in  all 
the  Bible  history  is  that  which  is  discovered 
in  the  narrative  of  Joseph  while  in  Egypt. 
Pharaoh  suddenly  sent  for  him ;  and  though 
this  young  man  must  have  known  now  that 
his  fortune  was  made,  and  though  he  longed 
inexpressibly  to  get  out  of  the  lilthy  dungeon, 
he  was  of  too  decent  a  turn  of  mind  to  rush 
into  the  king's  presence  without  care.  He 
made  all  the  retinue  wait  for  him  outside, 
though  they  came  "  hastily  ";  he  would  not  be 
hurried  into  indecorousness  of  behavior ;  he 
"  shaved  himself,  and  changed  his  raiment, 
and  came  in  unto  Pharaoh."  We  need  to 
pray  for  better  gift  at  prayer. 

"  It  is  harder,"  so  remarked  the  pious  Gur- 
nall,  "  to  get  the  great  bell  up  than  to  ring  it 
when  raised."  Ejaculatory  prayer  is  useful ; 
but  there  is  need  of  set  seasons  likewise.  "  A 
large  part  of  my  time,"  wrote  McCheyne,  "  is 
spent  just  in  getting  my  heart  in  tune  to 
pray."  The  stringing  of  the  bow  and  the 
notching  of  the  arrow  have  much  to  do  with 
the  success  of  the  archer's  shot ;  and  it  is  not 
wise  to  be  headlong. 

109  Redeeming  Love.  7s. 

Sweet  the  time,  exceeding  sweet ! 
When  the  saints  together  meet, 
When  the  Saviour  is  the  theme, 
When  they  joy  to  sing  of  him. 

2  Sing  we  then  eternal  love, 
Such  as  did  the  Father  move: 
He  beheld  the  world  undone, 
Loved  the  world,  and  gave  his  Son. 

3  Sing  the  Son's  amazing  love — 
How  he  left  the  realms  above, 
Took  our  nature  and  our  place, 
Lived  and  died  to  save  our  race. 

4  Sing  we,  too,  the  Spirit's  love  ; 
With  our  stubborn  hearts  he  strove. 
Filled  our  minds  with  grief  and  fear, 
Brought  the  precious  Saviour  tiear. 

5  Sweet  the  place,  exceeding  sweet, 
Where  the  samts  in  glory  meet ; 
Where  the  Saviour  's  still  the  theme, 
Where  they  see  and  sing  of  him. 

Most  ministers,  even  of  modern  times,  have 
in  their  libraries  the  Village  Sermons  of  Rev. 
George  Burder.  The  volume  was  published 
in  1 794,  and  has  continued  to  have  a  prosper- 
ous sale  down  to  the  present  day.  The  au- 
thor was  born  in  London,  June  5,  1752.  The 
early  tastes  of  the  child  were  imaginative  and 
poetic,  and  he  showed  skill  in  drawing ;  in- 
deed, he  studied  for  a  while  at  the  Royal 
Academy,  and  planned  to  be  an  artist.  He 
gave  up  this  ambition,  however,  at  the  age  of 
twenty-three,  having  been  converted  under 
the  preaching  of  Whitefield,  and  became  con- 
nected with  the  Tabernacle  Church.  He  soon 
began  to  preach,  and  was  ordained  to  the 
ministry  of  the  Congregational  body  in  1778, 


54 


PRAYER   AND    INVOCATION. 


RKV.    GEORGE  BURDKK. 

He  was  an  Independent  pastor  at  first  at  Lan- 
caster, then  at  Coventry'  for  twenty  years,  and 
ultimately  at  Fetter  Lane  in  London,  where 
he  died,  May  29,  1832.  He  was  busy  with 
his  pen  all  his  life,  contributing  to  the  religious 
periodicals  and  issuing  volumes  of  his  own. 
In  1799  he  was  with  others  instrumental  in 
founding  the  Religious  Tract  Society.  While 
he  was  preaching  at  Fetter  Lane  he  became 
the  secretary  of  the  London  Missionary  So- 
ciety, and  shortly  after  this  he  aided  in  the 
establishment  of  the  British  and  Foreign  Bi- 
ble Society.  In  1784  he  published  a  Supple- 
ment to  Watts,  which  collection  went  through 
fifty  editions :  this  contained  four  hymns  of 
his  composition.  He  was  an  excellent,  indus- 
trious, and  devoted  Christian,  preaching,  half 
blind  and  infirm,  until  three  months  before 
his  death  at  eighty  years  of  age. 

110  "The  Sacred  Fire."  C.  M. 

Prayer  is  the  breath  of  God  in  man. 

Returning  whence  it  came ; 
Love  is  the  sacred  fire  within, 

And  prayer  the  rising  flame. 

2  It  gives  the  burdened  spirit  ease, 
Ana  soothes  the  troubled  breast ; 

Yields  comfort  to  the  mourning  soul, 
And  to  the  weary  rest. 

3  When  God  inclines  the  heart  to  pray 
He  hath  an  ear  to  hear  ; 

To  him  there  's  music  in  a  sigh. 
And  beauty  in  a  tear. 

4  The  humble  suppliant  cannot  fail 
To  have  his  wants  supplied, 

Since  he  for  sinners  intercedes 
Who  once  for  sinners  died. 

We  are  told  in  the  Treasures  of  the  Tal- 
fiiud  that  the  heart  of  devout  believers  is  like 
a  harp  of  many  strings,  some  shorter,  some 


longer,  but  all  needing  to  be  tuned  occasion- 
ally and  struck  in  their  appropriate  turn. 
Those  old  rabbinical  writers  also  reported 
that  David  when  at  the  height  of  his  success 
as  a  sweet  singer  of  Israel  had  an  Eeolian  harp 
placed  in  his  palace  in  such  a  way  that  it 
might  be  moved  to  music  by  the  wind  which 
in  the  night  came  to  its  strings.  Then,  as  he 
heard  its  mysterious  strains,  he  would  arise 
from  his  couch  and  compose  a  psalm  of  praise 
to  Jehovah.  We  need  not  try  to  be  respon- 
sible for  the  facts  stated  and  assumed  in  these 
ancient  comments  on  the  Word  of  God ;  but 
the  figure  is  quaintly  apt  as  a  description  of 
inspiration. 

Rev.  Benjamin  Beddome  was  an  English 
Baptist  clergyman,  born  at  Henley-in-Arden, 
in  Warwickshire,  January-  23,  171 7.  In  early 
life  he  was  apprenticed  to  a  surgeon  ;  but  he 
removed  with  his  parents  to  Bristol,  where  his 
father  was  pastor  of  Pithay  Church,  and  after- 
ward he  became  a  preacher,  went  to  London 
for  a  while,  and  then  was  chosen  to  be  the 
pastor  of  the  church  at  Bourton-on-the-Wa- 
ter  in  Gloucestershire,  at  which  work  he  con- 
tinued until  his  death,  September  3,  1795. 
He  wrote  830  hymns,  but  only  a  few  of  them 
have  survived.  This  one  is  a  fair  example  of 
his  style ;  it  is  plain,  didactic,  often  as  com- 
monplace as  a  definition  in  the  dictionary ;  he 
is  said  to  have  written  it  in  1 749,  after  an  ill- 
ness. James  Montgomer}',  in  his  introduc- 
tion to  the  Christian  Psalmist,  did  all  that 
could  be  done  as  a  commendation  when  he 
said  he  found  Beddome's  verses  "  very  agree- 
able as  well  as  impressive,  being,  for  the  most 
part,  brief  and  fitting,"  and  when  he  declared 
that  some  had  "  the  terseness  and  simplicity 
of  the  Greek  epigram." 

I  I  I  Retirement.  C.  M. 

Far  from  the  world,  O  Lord,  I  flee, 

From  strife  and  tumult  far, 
From  scenes  where  Satan  wages  still 

His  most  successful  war. 

2  The  calm  retreat,  the  silent  shade, 
With  prayer  and  praise  agree, 

And  seem  by  thy  great  bounty  made 
For  those  who  follow  thee. 

3  There,  if  thy  Spirit  touch  the  soul 
And  grace  her  mean  abode, 

Oh  !  with  what  i>e:ice.  and  joy,  and  love 
She  then  communes  with  Gotl. 

4  Author  and  Guardian  of  my  life ! 
Sweet  Source  of  light  divine. 

And — all  harmonious  names  in  one — 
My  Saviour  ! — thou  art  mine  ! 

The  biography  of  William  Cowper  has  for 
its  frontispiece  a  picture  consisting  of  seven 
small  views,  describing  his  life  to  one's  eye  as 
it  must  have  appeared  during  the  period  in 
which  this  hymn  was  written.     His  health  was 


PRAYER  AND    INVOCATION. 


55 


measurably  restored.  He  took  a  short  jour- 
ney out  of  his  habit ;  he  was  in  an  intelligent 
and  almost  a  happy  frame  of  mind.  In  the 
village  of  Huntingdon  he  found  congenial 
rest.  His  life  was  distinctly  associated  with 
that  of  John  Newton,  his  dear  friend  in  whose 
parish  he  had  spent  so  much  time  that  the 
church  and  the  parsonage  at  Olney  seemed 
almost  like  his  own.  He  had  his  hares  and 
his  devoted  comrades  and  his  writing  friends. 
His  correspondence  was  singularly  full;  and 
his  spirits  were  so  cheerful  that  the  letters 
have  entered  into  English  literature.  And 
while  resting  he  waited  upon  God.  He  at- 
tended church  for  the  first  time  in  two  years. 
Before  service  he  found  a  quiet  nook  among 
the  trees,  and  prayed  with  all  the  fervor  of  a 
joyous  heart.  After  he  came  home  he  went 
out  to  it  again.  He  artlessly  relates  the  story 
of  his  experience  :  "  How  shall  I  express  what 
the  Lord  did  for  me,  except  by  saying  that  he 
made  all  his  goodness  to  pass  before  me !" 
This  was  the  hymn  that  William  Wilberforce 
used  frequently  to  repeat  to  himself  in  his 
most  exciting  histories  as  a  public  man,  calm- 
ing himself  with  the  thought  of  the  true 
"  peace  of  God." 

112  "  Behold  He  Prays."  C.  M. 

Prayer  is  the  soul's  sincere  desire, 

Uttered  or  unexpressed  ; 
The  motion  of  a  hidden  fire 

That  trembles  in  the  breast. 

2  Prayer  is  tlie  burden  of  a  sigh, 
The  falling  of  a  tear, 

The  upwarcT glancing  of  an  eye, 
When  none  but  God  is  near. 

3  Prayer  is  the  simplest  form  of  speech 
That  infant  lips  can  try  ; 

Prayer  the  sublimest  strains  that  reach 
The  Majesty  on  high. 

4  Prayer  is  the  Christian's  vital  breath, 
The  Christian's  native  air: 

His  watchword  at  the  gates  of  death — 
He  enters  heaven  with  prayer. 

5  Prayer  is  the  contrite  sinner's  voice, 
Returning  from  his  ways  ; 

While  angels  in  their  songs  rejoice, 
And  cry — "  Behold  he  prays  !" 

6  O  thou,  by  whom  we  come  to  God — 
The  Life,  the  Truth,  the  Way— 

The  path  of  prayer  thyself  hast  trod  ; 
Lord  !  teach  us  how  to  pray. 

James  Montgomery  told  his  friends,  with 
whom  he  was  sometimes  in  rare  moments  of 
intimacy  wont  to  speak  of  his  own  literary 
productions  frankly,  that  he  had  received  a 
great  many  testimonials  of  approval  in  respect 
to  this  piece  of  poetry.  This  fact  is  the  more 
interesting  to  us  just  now,  because  the  cry  is 
raised  that  the  verses  are  not  to  be  reckoned 
at  all  as  constituting  a  lyric  song  to  be  sung, 
but  a  poetic  definition  to  be  read  in  one's  soli- 
tude as  an  encouragement  to  prayer.    Yet  the 


author  included  it  among  his  hymns  in  the 
volume  bearing  the  name ;  he  added,  how- 
ever, the  final  stanza  in  order  to  give  it  a  for- 
mal address  to  God,  and  so  fit  it  to  the  exi- 
gencies of  public  service.  It  has  been  ac- 
cepted without  hesitation  as  not  only  a  valu- 
able aid  to  devotion,  but  as  a  classic  among 
the  treasures  of  the  Church  at  large.  Atten- 
tion has  been  often  called  to  the  peculiar  cir- 
cumstances of  Montgomery's  death,  as  illus- 
trating the  sentiment  he  expressed  when  to 
the  utterance  of  prayer  he  gave  the  name  of 
the  Christian's  "  watchword  at  the  gates  of 
death."  When  the  poet  was  more  than  four- 
score years  of  age,  in  1854,  he  still  kept  up 
his  practice  of  family  worship,  and  in  person 
ofificiated  in  the  supplication.  This  he  did 
one  evening  as  usual,  and  it  was  observed 
that  he  was  especially  fervent  in  his  form  of 
address  and  directness  of  expression.  It  was 
his  last  audible  prayer ;  he  went  at  once  to 
his  chamber  for  sleep,  and  in  the  morning 
was  found  unconscious  upon  the  floor  of  the 
room.  He  never  spoke  again ;  so  this  good 
man  passed  away ;  thus  he  entered  heaven 
"  with  prayer." 

I  1 3  The  Evening  Hour.  7S,  lol. 

Father,  by  thy  love  and  power 
Comes  again  the  evening  hour: 
Light  has  vanished,  labors  cease. 
Weary  creatures  rest  in  peace  ; 
Thou,  whose  genial  dews  distill 

On  the  lowliest  weed  that  grows. 
Father,  guard  our  couch  from  ill. 

Grant  thy  children  sweet  repose: 
We  to  thee  ourselves  resign, 
Let  our  latest  thoughts  be  thine. 

2  Saviour,  to  thy  Father  bear 
This  our  feeble  evening  prayer: 
Thou  hast  seen  liow  oft  to-day 
We  like  sheep  have  gone  astray  ; 
Worldly  thoughts  and  thoughts  of  pride, 

Wishes  to  thy  cross  untrue. 
Secret  faults  and  undescried. 

Meet  thy  spirit-piercing  view; 
Blessed  Saviour,  yet  through  thee 
Pray  that  we  may  pardoned  be. 

3  Holy  Spirit,  breath  of  b;dm. 
Fall  on  us  in  evening's  calm ; 
Yet  awhile,  before  we  sleep, 
We  with  thee  will  vigils  keep. 
Lead  us  on  our  sins  to  muse. 

Give  us  truest  penitence  : 
Then  the  love  of  God  infuse. 

Breathing  humble  confidence; 
Melt  our  spirits,  mould  our  will. 
Soften,  strengthen,  comfort  still. 

4  Blessed  Trinity,  be  near 
Through  the  hours  of  darkness  drear; 
Then,  when  shrinks  the  lonely  heart. 
Thou,  O  God,  most  present  art. 
Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost, 

Watch  o'er  our  defenceless  head ; 
Let  thy  angels'  guardian  host 

Keep  all  evil  from  our  bed  ; 
Till  the  flood  of  morning  rays 
Wake  us  to  a  song  of  praise. 

Joseph  Anstice  was  an  English  Episcopalian, 


56 


PRAYER  AND    INVOCATION. 


Professor  of  Classical  Literature  at  King's 
College  in  London,  to  which  high  literary  po- 
sition he  was  appointed  when  only  twenty- 
two  years  old.  He  was  born  at  Madeley 
Wood,  in  Shropshire,  in  1 808 ;  educated  at 
Westminster  School  and  at  Christ  Church 
College,  Oxford,  where  he  was  graduated  with 
great  distinction.  He  did  good  work  in  his 
classroom,  but  his  health  became  precarious 
in  1835,  and  life  began  soon  to  fail.  Fifty- 
four  hymns  of  his  composition,  published 
posthumously,  have  been  read  by  many  with 
a  certain  sense  of  commiseration  when  they 
learned  that  most  of  them  had  their  origin 
within  the  walls  of  a  sick  chamber  and  at  a 
period  when  death  was  close  at  hand.  He 
was  often  too  feeble  to  write,  and  could  only 
dictate  the  lines  to  his  faithful  wife  :  and  it  is 
on  her  testimony  also  that  we  learn  that  he 
continued  to  teach  his  students  clear  up  to 
the  last  morning  of  his  life.  This  is  what 
gives  such  pathos  to  a  melancholy  which  per- 
vades some  of  the  verses,  and  such  attractive- 
ness to  the  unalterable  trust  which  gives  cheer 
and  hope  to  them  all.  After  much  patient 
suffering  this  good  man  died  at  Torquay, 
February  29,  1836. 

I  14  Hear,  O  Lord!  P.  M. 

Whf.n  the  weary,  seeking  rest, 

To  thy  goodness  flee  ; 
When  the  lieavy-laden  cast 

All  their  load  on  thee  ; 
When  the  troubled,  seeking  peace, 

On  thy  name  shall  call ; 
When  the  sinner,  seeking  life, 

At  thy  feet  shall  fall ; 
Hear  then  in  love,  O  Lord,  the  cry. 
In  heaven,  thy  dwelling-place  on  high. 

2  When  the  worldling,  sick  at  heart, 
Lifts  his  soul  above  : 

When  the  prodigal  looks  back 

To  his  Father's  love ; 
When  the  proud  man  from  his  pride 

Stoops  to  seek  thy  face ; 
When  the  burdened  brings  his  guilt 

To  thy  throne  of  grace ; 
Hear  then  in  love,  O  Lord,  the  cry. 
In  heaven,  thy  dwelling-place  on  high. 

3  When  the  stranger  asks  a  home, 
All  his  toils  to  end  ; 

When  the  hungry  craveth  food, 

And  the  poor  a  friend  ; 
When  the  sailor  on  the  wave 

Bows  the  fervent  knee  ; 
When  the  soldier  on  the  field 

Lifts  his  heart  to  thee  ; 
Hear  then  in  love,  O  Lord,  the  cry. 
In  heaven,  thy  dwelling-place  on  high. 

4  When  the  man  of  toil  and  care, 
In  the  city  crowd, 

When  the  shepherd  on  the  moor. 

Names  the  name  of  God  ; 
When  the  learned  and  the  high, 

Tired  of  earthly  fame, 
Upon  higher  joys  intent. 

Name  the  blessSd  Name ; 
Hear  then  in  love,  O  Lord,  the  cry. 
In  heaven,  thy  dwelling-place  on  high. 

This  hymn  is  in  the  best  spirit  of  Dr.  Ho- 


ratius  Bonar,  and  well  represents  his  thorough 
appreciation  of  Scripture  incident  and  princi- 
ple. He  has  caught  the  entire  meaning  and 
spirit  of  Solomon's  prayer  at  the  dedication  of 
the  Temple,  given  in  the  sixth  chapter  of  Sec- 
ond Chronicles,  and  has  made  the  sentiment 
serviceable  for  one  of  the  grandest  hymns  of 
New  Testament  supplication.  One  peculiari- 
ty in  the  music  usually  sung  with  this  piece  is 
found  in  the  strain  attached  to  each  verse  as 
a  refrain.  It  has  a  wonderful  effect  when  the 
brisk  and  spirited  movement  of  the  first  eight 
lines  is  suddenly  succeeded  by  the  slower  and 
march-like  advance  of  the  quotation  from 
Mendelssohn,  coming  on  with  its  suggestion 
of  impassioned  imploration  and  entreaty. 

I  I  5  The  Throne  of  Grace.  los,  4. 

There  is  a  spot  of  consecrated  ground 
Where  brightest  hopes  and  holiest  joys  are  found  ; 
'T  is  named,  and  Christians  love  the  well-known  sound. 
The  "  throne  of  grace." 

2  'T  is  here  a  calm  retreat  is  always  found ; 
Perpetual  sunshine  gilds  the  sacred  ground  : 
Pure  airs  and  heavenly  odors  breathe  around 

The  "  throne  of  grace." 

3  While  on  this  vantage-ground  the  Christian  stan<ls. 
His  quickened  eye  a  boundless  view  commands; 
Discovers  fair  abodes  not  made  with  hands — 

Abodes  of  peace. 

4  This  is  the  mount  wliere  Christ's  disciples  see 
The  glory  of  the  incarnate  Deity  ; 

'T  is  here  they  find  it  good  indeed  to  be, 
And  view  his  face. 

5  Here  may  the  comfortless  and  weary  find 
One  who  can  cure  the  sickness  of  the  mind. 
One  who  delights  the  broken  heart  to  bind — 

The  Prince  of  Peace. 

6  Saviour  !  the  sinner's  Friend,  our  hope,  our  all ! 
Here  teach  us  humbly  at  thy  feet  to  tail ; 

Here  on  thy  name,  with  love  and  faith,  to  call 
For  pardoning  grace. 

7  Ne'er  let  the  glory  from  this  spot  remove, 
Till,  numbered  with  thy  ransomed  flock  above. 
We  cease  to  want,  but  never  cease  to  love. 

The  "  throne  of  grace  !" 

This  hymn  seems  to  have  given  perplexity 
to  some  of  the  hymnologists.  In  Songs  of 
Grace  and  Glory,  compiled  by  Miss  Frances 
Ridley  Havergal,  and  published  in  London, 
1876,  the  poem  is  found  in  full,  from  the  parts 
of  which  this  hymn  is  made.  It  is  ascribed 
to  Miss  Charlotte  Elliott,  and  consists  of  ten 
stanzas.  This  is  a  correct  crediting  of  the 
authorship,  for  the  whole  three  parts  of  the 
long  composition  are  found  in  her  Hymns  for 
a  Week,  1839.  It  is  designed  to  suggest  the 
localization  of  our  thoughts  and  wishes  and 
experiences  around  some  favorite  spot.  The 
expression  "  throne  of  grace  "  is  in  Hebrews 
4:16:  "Seeing  then  that  we  have  a  great 
high  priest,  that  is  passed  into  the  heavens, 
Jesus  the  Son  of  God,  let  us  hold  fast  our 
profession.  For  we  have  not  a  high  priest 
which  cannot  be  touched  with  the  feeling  of 


PRAVER   AND    INVOCATION. 


57 


our  infirmities  ;  but  was  in  all  points  tempted 
like  as  we  are,  yet  without  sin.  Let  us  there- 
fore come  boldly  unto  the  throne  of  grace, 
that  we  may  obtain  mercy,  and  find  grace  to 
help  in  time  of  need."  It  is  indeed  a  great 
thing  to  have  had  admission  to  the  presence 
of  a  king  like  Jehovah,  and  to  have  received  a 
token  that  showed  our  words  had  been  heard 
and  heeded  by  the  majesty  of  heaven.  The 
success  of  just  one  real  prayer  of  ours  ought 
to  be  the  memorj^'  of  a  lifetime.  We  might 
keep  saying :  I  am  the  man,  dust  and  ashes 
myself,  who  once,  on  such  a  day  and  such  an 
hour,  asked — and  Jehovah  answered  me  !  Nay 
more,  he  told  me  to  come  again  !  Think  now 
of  a  human  being  who  can  honestly  say,  "  I 
have  daily  audience  for  my  petitions  in  heaven!" 

"  i  wonder  not  the  eye  of  man  cows  lions  in  their  den, 
Or  that  a  son  of  genius  can  sway  the  minds  of  men  ; 
I  wond-jr  not  tl'e  conqueror  moves  nations  with  his  rod; 
But  rather  that  a  little  child  can  move  the  hand  of 
God!" 


I  16 


Forsake  Me  Not.' 


los,  4. 


Forsake  me  not !  O  thou,  my  Lord,  my  Light ! 

1  lift  mine  eyes  unto  thy  holy  height, 

And  trust  thee  with  a  child's  sweet  trust — untaught: 
Forsake  me  not ! 

2  Forsake  me  not !     By  sorrow  oft  depressed. 
On  thee  alone,  Almighty  Power,  I  rest ! 
Strength  faileth  me ;  be  thou  my  strength — Christ- 
bought  : 

Forsake  me  not ! 

3  Forsake  me  not  !     Help  me  to  know  thy  way 
Let  me  at  last,  at  closing  of  my  day. 

Into  the  light  of  thy  dear  face  be  brought ! 
Forsake  me  not  I 

This  exquisite  piece  of  poetry  appeared  in 
the  Christian  Union  in  1883.  The  name  ap- 
pended to  it  was  that  of  Mrs.  John  P.  Mor- 
gan ;  she  was  then  residing  in  New  York,  but 
every  effort  to  procure  other  information  has 
failed.  The  translation  is  probably  from  some 
German  hymn.  The  spirit  of  the  petition  it 
presses  is  almost  passionate  in  its  expression 
of  both  need  and  trust. 

These  covenant-engagements  of  God — how 
slight  they  seem,  but  what  a  resident  omnipo- 
tence they  possess !  They  may  not  impress 
the  imagination  much,  but  they  will  wrestle 
beyond  measure !  There  they  lie  in  the  clear 
stream  of  Scripture  like  the  five  little  stones 
in  the  brook  of  I])avid ;  but  each  one  is  good 
for  a  giant.  There  they  wait  in  the  store- 
house of  God  like  the  five  loaves  and  the  two 
fishes  of  the  unnamed  lad  of  Bethsaida ;  they 
hardly  filled  his  wallet,  but  they  proved  quite 
enough  to  feed  the  five  thousand.  The  sim- 
ple fact  is  that  in  all  the  engagements  God 
makes  he  puts  his  own  truth  at  stake.  "  All 
the  promises  of  God  in  Christ  are  yea,  and  in 
him  amen,  unto  the  glory  of  God  by  us." 
Hence  when  human  wrestling  lays  hold  of  a 


text  of  Scripture,  it  is  all  that  a  maxim  of 
Plato  or  Confucius  would  be,  and  in  addition 
it  is  God  himself.  There  was  no  irreverence 
— nothing,  indeed,  but  clearest  intelligence 
and  firmest  faith — in  the  reply  made  by  a 
harassed  believer  to  the  ribald  skeptic  who 
told  her  that  God's  covenant  might  fail  at  the 
last,  for  she  had  no  hold  upon  him.  "  Ah,  no 
fear  of  that,"  she  answered  ;  "  he  has  more  to 
lose  in  it  than  I  have !" 


117 


God  Pities.' 


S.  M. 


Our  heavenly  Father  calls. 

And  Christ  invites  us  near  ; 
With  both  our  friendship  shall  be  sweet. 

And  our  communion  dear. 

2  God  pities  all  our  griefs: 
He  pardons  every  day  ! 

Almighty  to  protect  our  souls. 
And  wise  to  guide  our  way. 

3  How  large  his  bounties  are  ! 
What  various  stores  of  good, 

Diffused  from  our  Redeemer's  hand 
And  purchased  with  his  blood  I 

4  Jesus,  our  living  Head, 
We  bless  thy  laithful  care  ; 

Our  Advocate  before  the  throne, 
And  our  Forerunner  there. 

5  Here  fix,  my  roving  heart ! 
Here  wait,  my  warmest  love! 

Till  the  communion  be  complete 
In  nobler  scenes  above. 

Here  we  have  another  of  Dr.  Philip  Dod- 
dridge's hymns,  numbered  346  in  his  collec- 
tion. It  is  founded  upon  i  John  1:3:  "  Truly 
our  fellowship  is  with  the  Father,  and  with 
his  Son  Jesus  Christ."  It  has  the  same  five 
stanzas,  and  is  entitled,  "  Communion  with 
God  and  Christ."  One  of  our  modern  pastors 
has  related  an  incident  in  his  own  experience  ; 
it  serves  as  an  illustration,  and  we  give  it  in 
his  exact  words : 

"  An  inquiring  friend  once  asked  me,  after 
a  public  service.  When  you  close  your  eyes 
for  prayer,  and  commence  as  you  did  this 
morning — '  Infinitely  high  and  holy  God  ' — 
what  do  you  see,  or  what  do  you  seem  to 
see  ?  What  he  meant  was,  what  sort  of 
mental  conception  does  any  Christian  have 
in  his  ordinary  devotions  ?  What  is  the 
image  which  rises  before  him  when  he  ad- 
dresses what  he  terms  in  common  conference 
the  throne  of  grace  } 

"  Since  then  I  have  passed  the  question  on 
and  around,  especially  among  those  of  largest 
experience  and  rarest  gift  in  public  prayer. 
Various  answers  are  given.  One  said  he 
seemed  to  see  a  vast  audience-room,  vague 
angels  ranged  through  it,  a  throne  in  the 
midst — and  he  never  found  himself  going 
further ;  but  toward  the  ineffable  center  of 
Royalty  he  sent  his  petition.  Another  said 
that  on  the  instant  of  closing  the  world  out 


58 


PRAYER   AND    INVOCATION. 


from  his  vision  he  appeared  to  himself  to  be 
looking  straight  up  into  a  splendor  of  light, 
an  undefined  radiance  of  glory"  that  no  man 
could  approach  unto.  Another  told  me  he 
saw  positively  nothing;  he  felt  himself  in  a 
Presence ;  he  spoke  as  he  would  speak  to  a 
friend  in  the  next  room,  out  of  sight  but 
within  hearing.  Another  pictured  himself 
as  kneeling  at  the  very  foot  of  the  cross  on 
Calvar)',  like  the  Virgin  Mary  and  her  friends. 
And  another  still  chose  for  a  like  similitude 
Mar\"  at  Bethany,  sitting  at  the  Saviour's  feet. 
"  On  the  whole,  the  impression  I  have  now 
is  that  most  believers  seem  to  have  a  vision 
of  a  personal  God  in  the  form  of  Jesus 
Christ — the  Redeemer  in  his  human  shape 
more  or  less  recognizable — and  that  the 
image  different  Christians  contemplate  will 
var)'  according  to  the  floridness  or  dullness  of 
their  imaginations,  according  to  the  clearness 
or  vagueness  of  their  intellectual  processes, 
and  specially  according  to  their  individual 
temperament." 

I  18  "  The  Throne  of  Grace."  S.  M. 

Behold  the  throne  of  grace! 

The  promise  calls  me  near  ; 
There  Jesus  shows  a  smiling  face, 

And  wails  to  answer  prayer. 

2  That  rich  atoning  blood, 
Whicli  sprinkled  round  I  see, 

Provides  for  those  who  come  to  God 
An  all-prevailing  plea. 

3  My  soul !  ask  what  thou  wilt ; 
Thou  canst  not  be  too  bold: 

Since  his  own  blood  for  thee  he  spilt. 
What  else  can  he  withhold? 

4  Thine  image.  Lord  bestow, 
Thy  presence  and  thy  love ; 

I  ask  to  serve  thee  here  below, 
And  reign  with  thee  above. 

5  Teach  me  to  live  by  faith  ; 
Conform  my  will  to  thine: 

Let  me  victorious  be  in  death, 
Ami  then  in  glory  shine. 

Another  of  those  familiar  pieces  in  our 
conference  meetings,  given  as  No.  33  in  Rev. 
John  Newton's  Olney  Hymns,  Book  1.  There 
it  has  eight  stanzas.  It  is  founded  upon 
I  Kings  3:5:  "  Ask  what  I  shall  give  thee." 
How  strange  is  the  spectacle  of  a  habitually 
prayerless  man  !  We  have  heard  of  one  who 
lived  without  a  country.  We  know  men 
without  a  home.  Bnt  how  an  intelligent 
moral  being  can  live,  and  yet  not  be  on  speak- 
ing terms  with  his  Maker,  passes  comprehen- 
sion. The  privilege  is  open  to  all.  Said  good 
Bishop  Leighton,  with  generous  expostula- 
tion :  "  Remember,  none  of  God's  children 
are  born  dumb !" 


1 9  Importunity. 

Jesus,  who  knows  full  well 
The  heart  of  every  saint. 

Invites  us  all  our  grief  to  tell. 
To  pray  and  never  faint. 


S.  M. 


2  He  bows  his  gracious  ear — 
We  never  plead  in  vain  ; 

Then  let  us  wait  till  he  appear. 
And  pray,  and  pray  again. 

3  Jesus,  the  Lord,  will  hear 
His  chosen  when  they  cr>- : 

Ves,  though  he  may  awhile  forbear, 
He  '11  help  them  from  on  high. 

4  Then  let  us  earnest  cry. 
And  never  faint  in  prayer ; 

He  sees,  he  hears,  and,  from  on  high, 
Will  make  our  cause  his  care. 

This  is  No.  106,  Book  II.,  in  Rev.  John 
Newton's  Olney  Hymtis ;  it  appears  there 
with  six  stanzas.  He  commences  it  with 
"  Our  Lord,  who  knows  full  well."  He  re- 
fers directly  to  the  parable  of  the  judge,  in 
Luke  18:1-7.  "  Men  ought  always  to  pray, 
and  not  to  faint."  God  invites  and  counsels 
importunity,  and  his  best  people  witness  to  its 
value  in  their  practical  experience.  Testi- 
monies are  not  rare.  Sir  Matthew  Hale  says : 
"  If  I  omit  praying  and  reading  God's  Word  in 
the  morning,  nothing  goes  well  all  day."  Gen- 
eral Havelock  used  to  rise  at  four  o'clock,  if 
the  hour  of  marching  was  at  six,  rather  than 
lose  the  privilege  of  communion  with  God 
before  setting  out.  And  Dr.  Cuyler  said  of 
the  late  William  E.  Dodge :  "  The  secret  of 
his  success  lay  in  the  first  hour  of  every 
morning.  That  hour  he  gave  to  God,  with 
his  Bible  and  on  his  knees,  and  if  he  came 
down  town  to  business  with  his  face  shining 
with  cheerfulness  and  loving-kindness,  it  was 
because  he  had  been  up  in  the  mount  in  com- 
munion with  God." 

120  Psalm  81.  S.  M. 

Sing  to  the  Lord,  our  Might, 

With  holy  fervor  sing ; 
Let  hearts  and  instruments  unite 

To  praise  our  heavenly  King. 

2  This  is  his  sacred  house  ; 
And  this  his  festal  day, 

When  he  accepts  the  humblest  vows 
That  we  sincerely  pay. 

3  The  Sabbath  to  our  sires 
In  mercy  first  was  given  ; 

The  Church  her  Sabbath  still  requires 
To  speed  her  on  to  heaven. 

4  And  we,  like  them  of  old, 
Are  in  the  wilderness ; 

And  God  is  now  as  near  his  fold 
To  pity  and  to  bless. 

5  Then  let  us  open  wide 
Our  hearts  for  him  to  fill ; 

And  he  that  Israel  then  supplied 
Will  keep  his  Israel  still. 

We  are  indebted  to  a  memorial  by  one  w'ho 
does  not  care  to  be  openly  known  by  any 
other  address  than  what  is  signified  by  the 
letters  "  A.  M.  M.  H."  for  many  of  the  most 
interesting  particulars  concerning  Rev.  Henry 
Francis  Lyte,  the  author  of  this  version  of 
Psalm  81.     The  monograph  containing  the 


GENERAL   PRAISE. 


59 


information  was  published  in  1850.  The  date 
affixed  to  this  hymn  by  Sir  Roundell  Palmer 
is  1 834-1 841.  Whoever  is  familiar  with  St. 
Bernard,  Paul  Gerhardt,  Caswall,  or  Faber, 
will  be  pleased  to  find  the  same  devout  and 
courae^eous  spirit  in  Lyte  which  in  those  poets 
was  their  distinguishing  charm.  There  is  a 
kind  of  military  ardor  in  these  verses,  a  sense 
of  swift  marching  with  front  full  in  air,  as  if 
the  singer  snuffed  the  battle  afar  off  and  was 
not  afraid  in  the  least  to  meet  the  shock  of  it, 
knowing  that  he  had  supreme  help.  "  The 
battle  is  not  yours,  but  God's."  This  was  the 
favorite  text  of  Sir  Fowell  Buxton.  He  once 
wrote  to  his  daughter  that  she  would  find  his 
Bible  opening  of  itself  to  the  place  where  this 
passage  occurs.  This  text  it  was  which  gave 
him  courage  to  move  in  the  British  Parlia- 
ment for  the  emancipation  of  slaves  through- 
out the  British  Empire.  When  he  entered  on 
that  conflict  he  stood  almost  alone  ;  when  this 
bill  was  first  read  in  Parliament  it  was  re- 
ceived with  shouts  of  derisive  laughter.  But 
he  bethought  him  of  this  text,  and  he  began 
his  speech,  saying :  "  Mr.  Speaker,  the  read- 
ing of  this  bill  is  the  beginning  of  a  move- 
ment which  will  surely  end  in  the  abolition  of 
slavery  throughout  the  British  dominions." 
The  old  Hebrew  prophet  never  said  a  truer 
word.  Sir  Fowell  knew  it,  for  the  battle  was 
not  his,  but  God's. 

121  "Bless  the  Lord!" 

Stand  up,  and  bless  the  Lord, 

Ye  people  of  his  choice ; 
Stand  up,  and  bless  the  Lord  your  God 

With  heart  and  soul  and  voice. 

2  Though  high  above  all  praise, 
Above  all  blessing  high. 

Who  would  not  fear  his  holy  name, 
And  laud,  and  magnify? 

3  Oh,  for  the  living  flame 
From  his  own  altar  brought, 

To  touch  our  lips,  our  souls  inspire. 
And  wing  to  heaven  our  thought  I 

4  God  is  our  strength  and  song. 
And  his  salvation  ours: 

Then  be  his  love  in  Christ  proclaimed, 
With  all  our  ransomed  powers. 

5  Stand  up,  and  bless  the  Lord  ; 
The  Lord  your  God  adore  ;  ' 

Stand  up,  and  bless  his  glorious  name, 
Henceforth,  for  evermore. 

After  Louis  XIH.  of  France  had  besieged 
a  city  of  the  Huguenots,  the  citizens  assem- 
bled in  the  evening  on  the  wall  and  there  sang 
with  sweetness  and  solemnity  one  of  their 
favorite  psalms.  The  king  was  so  impressed 
by  the  scene  that  he  turned  to  Mazarin,  who 
was  at  his  side,  and  exclaimed :  "  We  can  do 
nothing  with  this  people !"  The  siege  was 
expeditiously  raised,  and  the  persecuted  fol- 
lowers of  God  triumphed  over  their  foe.  The 
present  hymn,  of  which  this  little  story  forms 


so  fitting  an  illustration,  is  taken  from  James 
Montgomery's  Original  Hymns,  in  which  it 
is  reckoned  as  No.  86,  with  the  title  affixed : 
"  Exhortation  to  Praise  and  Thanksgiving." 

I  22  Psalm  95.  S.  M. 

Come,  sound  his  praise  abroad, 

And  hymns  of  glory  sing: 
Jehovah  is  the  sovereign  God, 
The  universal  King. 

2  He  formed  the  deeps  unknown  ; 
He  gave  the  seas  their  bound  ; 

The  watery  worlds  are  all  his  own. 
And  all  the  solid  ground. 

3  Come,  worshm  at  his  throne. 
Come,  bow  before  the  Lord: 

We  are  his  work,  and  not  our  own. 
He  formed  us  by  his  word. 

4  To-day  attend  his  voice, 
Nor  dare  provoke  his  rod  : 

Come,  like  the  people  of  his  choice. 
And  own  our  gracious  God. 

The  title  given  to  this  piece  is,  "  A  Psalm 
before  Sermon ;"  it  is  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  ver- 
sion of  Psalm  95,  S.  M.,  and  it  has  in  all  six 
stanzas.  Perhaps  no  one  of  this  writer's  fre- 
quent calls  to  praise  has  become  more  famil- 
iar than  this  through  the  various  churches 
across  the  whole  world.  There  is  something 
in  every  true  Christian's  heart  that  answers  to 
such  a  challenge.  It  is  the  singing  of  praises 
which  prepares  the  soul  for  its  daily  expo- 
sures. "  Is  any  among  you  afflicted  }  let  him 
pray.  Is  any  merry  ?  let  him  sing  psalms." 
Just  before  Jesus  our  Lord  went  forth  "  over 
the  brook  Kidron,"  into  Gethsemane  trials, 
he  "  sang  a  hymn."  Men  called  Cromwell's 
Ironsides  "  psalm-singers,"  but  they  dreaded 
the  men  who  came  with  nasal  music  on  the 
field  of  Naseby.  The  battle-hymn  helped 
Gustavus  Adolphus,  and  the  Covenanters  of 
Scotland  forgot  the  roughness  of  their  ver- 
sions in  the  inspiration  of  the  psalms  of  David. 
Our  hearts  ought  to  grow  valiant  whenever 
this  lyric  is  given  from  the  pulpit  and  old 
Silver  Street  follows  from  the  choir. 
I  23  Psalm  100.  L.  M. 

Before  Jehovah's  awful  throne, 
Ve  nations  !  bow  with  sacred  joy: 

Know  that  the  Lord  is  God  alone: 
He  can  create,  and  he  destroy. 

2  His  sovereign  power  without  our  aid. 
Made  us  of  clay,  and  formed  us  men; 

And  when,  like  wandering  sheep,  we  strayed, 
He  brought  us  to  his  fold  again. 

3  We  are  his  people,  we  his  care, 
Our  souls,  and  all  our  mortal  frame: 

What  lasting  honors  shall  we  rear, 
Almighty  Maker  !  to  thy  name  ? 

4  We  'II  crowd  thy  gates  with  thankful  songs, 
High  as  the  heavens  our  voices  raise  ; 

And  earth,  with  her  ten  thousand  tongues, 
ShalT  fill  thy  courts  with  sounding  praise. 

5  Wide  as  the  world  is  thy  command. 
Vast  as  eternity  thy  love ; 

Firm  as  a  rock  thy  truth  must  stand. 
When  rolling  years  shall  cease  to  move. 


6o 


GENERAL   PRAISE. 


This  hymn  appeared  in  17 19,  and  was 
reckoned  by  Dr.  Isaac  Watts,  at  tirst,  as  No. 
43  in  book  1.  But  in  the  edition  of  his  works 
printed  in  18 10  it  is  transferred  to  the  place  it 
has  since  occupied,  as  the  Second  Part,  L.  M., 
of  Psalm  100.  Originally  it  began  with  this 
stanza : 

"  Sing  to  the  Lord  with  joyful  voice  ; 
Let  every  land  his  name  adore ; 
The  British  isles  sliall  send  the  noise 
Across  the  ocean  to  the  shore." 

Assuredly,  all  right-minded  Christians  are 
glad  enough  to  know  that  the  opening  never 
has  been  the  beginning  of  this  grand  oldsong 
of  the  ages.  This  weak  and  local  verse  has 
wisely  been  dropped,  and  one  pauses  a  mo- 
ment to  ask  whether  people  are  in  earnest 
when  they  have  such  a  world  of  talk  to  make 
about  the  iniquity  and  impertinence  of  muti- 
lating the  hymns  of  the  ancient  poets.  Does 
anybody  want  that  stanza  to  come  back  again, 
and  head  the  psalm  precisely  as  Watts  wrote 
it? 

Moreover  the  first  two  lines  of  the  second 
stanza  were  given  up  for  the  same  sufficient 
reason  ;  these  lines  are  simply  unendurable  : 

"  Nations,  attend  before  his  throne. 
With  solemn  fear,  with  sacred  joy." 

For  these  John  Wesley  in  1741  substituted 
the  noble  couplet  we  now  use : 

"  Before  Jehovah's  awful  throne, 

Ye  nations,  bow  with  sacred  joy." 

No  instance  that  can  be  adduced  shows 
better  the  mistaken  zeal  of  some  critics  who 
are  apparently  disturbed  by  alterations  made 
in  these  modern  versions  of  old  poems,  and 


who  clamor  for  "  restorations  "  to  the  origi- 
nal words  of  the  authors.  Does  any  one 
really  want  these  lines  to  reappear  in  the  place 
of  the  changes?  Christophers  says:  "The 
Christian  Church  will  never  cease  to  enjoy 
the  grand  swell  of  Psalm  100,  as  given  by 
Watts :  but  thanks  will  ever  be  due  Wesley 
for  making  these  first  verses  worthy  of  the 
last."  And  Stevenson  adds  to  this  :  "  Never 
was  a  transformation  more  complete  than  the 
one  made  by  this  alteration.  From  being  a 
hymn  comparatively  unnoticed  and  unnotice- 
able,  it  has  been  rendered  one  of  solemnity, 
power,  and  sublimity." 

1 24  Psalm  100.  L.  M. 

All  people  that  on  earth  do  dwell. 

Sing  to  the  Lord  with  cheerful  voice: 
Him  serve  with  mirth,  his  praise  forth  tell, 

Come  ye  before  him  and  rejoice. 

2  Know  that  the  Lord  is  God  indeed  ; 
Without  our  aid  he  did  us  make  : 

We  are  his  flock,  he  doth  us  feed, 
And  for  his  .sheep  he  doth  us  take. 

3  Oh,  enter  then  his  gates  with  piaise, 
Approach  with  joy  his  courts  unto: 

Praise,  laud,  and  bless  his  name  always, 
For  it  is  seemly  so  to  do. 

4  For  why  ?     The  Lord  our  God  is  good, 
His  mercy  is  for  ever  sure  : 

His  truth  at  all  times  firmly  stood, 
And  shall  from  age  to  age  endure. 

From  the  ancient  copy  of  Sternhold  and 
Hopkins'  version  of  the  Psalms,  set  to  music, 
the  date  of  which  is  1605,  I  have  caused  to 
be  photographed  and  engraved  the  original 
tune,  with  words  inserted  in  the  staff,  as  it 
first  appeared  to  the  English-speaking  public 
Here,  then,  is  the  beginning  of  our  "  Old 
Hundred."     The  quaint  black  type,  the  al- 


i.IubilatcDco  omnis  tc  rra.pfal.  C. 

%n  ttts^rtl  eU  osn  to  rmn x\t  to^o  Isba  batb  fluitic  b«  aao  to  entcv  into  tjfs couctra  9 afiSrmbUetf  to  p;a<fe 
biff  namr. 


|iii;||E^±_^i^^ 


r5^ — :;;zf 


%  people  t^at  ou  ea  xX\\  Do  DtoelI>Gins  to  tlj^s^  tutt^  c^eitrefull 


tyopce^unfesiie  \£>^  feace,l)tj8pidpf^  fa  tl)  tei,comevc!iefo2€  IjtmauD  reiapce. 
;  Ct)e  Xo;tD?elino)»fsi  (!coDtnDeeDc,ttiitl)otitotttailie^eb(Dt))3ma&e: 
txie  are  l)i^  Hoei^e  tie  t9ot^  ti^  feeDe,anD  foi  %%  Hieepe  t)e  Dotl)  V)^  ralte. 

4  €>  entet  t^en  \\v&  qnU^  tolr^  pM?r?,appzodi  toit^  m  U^  coaits  t^ttto; 
p^apfeilantianf)  blcure His  name  ait»apeS)fo|  itm feemeipfoto  Dae^ 

5  fo^  tolQ^t^eiiLo^D  ottr  c^oD  (0  8ooD>i)t0  mercp  t0  fo!  ener  rare- 

WttutM  awtime^  6nnelp(h)Di)e>anD  (^allfrom  aaeto  aBtenSuicc. 


GENERAL   PRAISE. 


6l 


most  unintelligible  contractions  in  the  words, 
the  funny  and  inconsistent  spelling,  the  rough 
phrasing  of  the  poetry,  the  rugged  strength  of 
expression  combined  with  some  small  touches 
of  wonderful  majesty  and  grace,  and,  above 
everything  else,  the  matchless  devotion  and 
awful  reverence  for  the  majesty  and  holiness 
of  God — these  are  the  elements  of  that  force 
which  kept  the  old  psalm,  with  its  strain  of 
melody  clinging  to  it,  in  the  hearts  of  the  peo- 
ple through  the  centuries  past. 

Rev.  William  Kethe  has  been  reputed  as 
the  author  of  this  composition.  He  was  an 
exile  with  Knox  at  Geneva  in  1555  ;  chaplain 
of  the  English  soldiers  at  Havre  in  1 563 ;  and 
subsequently  we  find  him  acting  as  pastor  of 
a  congregation — that  of  Okeford,  in  Dorset- 
shire. Much  discussion  has  been  wasted 
upon  this  question,  and  still  it  remains  unset- 
tled ;  meanwhile  the  traditional  credit  is  given 
to  him  as  the  author. 

A  group  of  tourists  left  our  shores  lately  for 
a  trip  through  Europe  and  Asia.  They  trav- 
eled by  way  of  Egypt.  Reaching  that  coun- 
try, they  determined  to  see  the  pyramids.  The 
massive  piles  of  masonry  seem  familiar  enough 
to  thos3  who  have  never  been  within  thou- 
sands of  miles  of  them.  But  to  the  observer 
they  appear  magnificent  beyond  description. 
The  party  was  largely  composed  of  ministers 
of  the  gospel.  These  gathered  around  the 
base  of  the  great  pyramid.  They  looked 
toward  the  summit.  The  stone  terraces  tow- 
ered row  above  row  up  to  a  dizzy  height. 
They  began  the  ascent.  Their  agility,  com- 
bined with  much  help,  brought  them  to  the 
top-stone.  There  they  sat  in  amazement 
and  gazed  upon  the  flat  country  of  deserts. 
Then  they  drew  out  their  pocket  Bibles.  The 
one  hundredth  Psalm,  in  long  meter,  was  an- 
nounced. To  the  Old  Hundred  tune  it  was 
sung.  Upon  the  winds  of  the  wilderness  the 
sacred  melody  floated.  From  this  eminent 
station  these  singers  sang  the  song  of  the  He- 
brews, and  their  strains  melted  away  above  the 
graves  of  their  fathers,  where  they  had  lived 
and  died  in  bondage.  A  song  of  praise  from 
the  great  pyramid  !  May  it  be  a  prophecy  of 
the  good  time  coming,  when  Africa  shall  be 
filled  with  the  music  of  worship,  and  the 
sweet  psalms  of  Israel  shall  be  heard  in  all 
her  plains  and  mountains.  Those  who  help 
the  missions  are  hastening  the  day  when  the  in- 
habitants of  that  great  continent  shall  be  a  gos- 
pel choir  singing  the  high  praises  of  their  God. 

1 25  Doxology.  L.  M. 

Praise  God,  from  whom  all  blessings  flow, 
Praise  him,  all  creatures  here  below  ; 
Praise  him  above,  ye  heavenly  host ; 
Praise  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost. 


This  verse,  which  is  found  at  the  close  of 
both  the  morning  and  the  evening  hymn  of 
Bishop  Ken,  has  become  the  accepted  "  Te 
Deum  "  of  the  American  people.  Whenever 
spontaneous  praise  rises  in  a  vast  body  of 
citizens,  it  is  sure  to  choose  this  as  a  vehicle 
of  swift  and  satisfactory  expression.  At 
camp-meetings,  at  stately  Sabbath  services,  in 
times  of  political  exultation,  in  cathedrals, 
churches,  and  schoolhouses,  out  on  the  steps 
of  the  Custom  House  in  Wall  Street,  in  deep- 
est shadows  of  war  lit  by  sudden  news  of 
victory — always  the  popular  resort  is  to  these 
four  lines  of  ascription  of  praise  to  the  Triune 
Maker  of  the  universe.  With  uncovered 
heads  the  throngs  of  living  men  and  women 
send  it  aloft  to  the  strains  of  the  Old  Hun- 
dredth Psalm. 

1 26  Doxology. 

To  God  the  Father,  God  the  Son, 
And  God  the  Spirit,  Three  in  One, 
Be  honor,  praise,  and  glory  given, 
By  all  on  earth,  and  all  in  heaven. 

In  many  portions  of  New  England  it  has 
from  time  immemorial  been  the  custom  to 
use  this  stanza,  which  is  Dr.  Isaac  Watts' 
Third  Doxology,  L.  M.,  instead  of  Bishop 
Ken's  verse  now  sung  in  the  Middle  States. 
It  is  found  in  his  Hymns,  Book  III.,  where  it 
is  No.  32.  Like  the  other  familiar  stanza,  it 
has  always  been  married  to  the  same  old  tune. 
And  there  is  not  in  musical  literature  a  wider 
grouping  of  anecdotes  of  deepest  interest  than 
those  which  are  on  everybody's  lips,  and  in 
everybody's  heart,  about  this  admirable  piece 
of  composition,  originally  set  to  the  Hun- 
dredth Psalm  and  taking  its  name  from  it. 
It  has  gone  all  around  the  world,  and  will  live 
while  any  human  voice  is  left  to  sing  it  on 
this  side  of  heaven. 

Here  is  an  excellent  chance  to  quote  some 
wise,  calm  sentences  once  written  by  old  An- 
drew Fuller.  He  says  :  "  The  criterion  of  a 
good  tune  is  not  its  pleasing  a  scientific  ear, 
but  its  being  quickly  caught  by  a  congrega- 
tion. It  is,  I  think,  by  singing  as  it  is  by 
preaching :  a  fine  judge  of  composition  will 
admire  a  sermon  which  yet  makes  no  manner 
of  impression  upon  the  public  mind,  and  there- 
fore cannot  be  a  good  one.  That  is  the  best 
sermon  which  is  adapted  to  produce  the  best 
effects ;  and  the  same  may  be  said  of  a  tune. 
If  it  corresponds  with  the  feelings  of  a  pious 
heart,  and  aids  him  in  realizing  the  senti- 
ments, it  will  be  quickly  learnt,  and  be  sung 
with  avidity.  Where  this  effect  is  not  pro- 
duced, were  I  a  composer  I  would  throw 
away  my  performance  and  try  again." 


62 


GENERAL   PRAISE. 


127  Psalm  117. 

From  all  that  dwell  below  the  skies 
Let  the  Creator's  praise  arise: 
Let  the  Redeemer's  name  be  sung 
Through  every  land,  by  every  tongue. 

2    Eternal  are  thy  mercies,  Lord  ! 
Eternal  truth  attends  thy  word: 
Thy  praise  shall  sound  from  shore  to  shore, 
Till  suns  shall  rise  and  set  no  more. 

This  is  the  version  of  the  shortest  chapter 
in  the  Bible — which,  by  the  by,  is  an  anony- 
mous poem — given  in  the  collection  of  Dr. 
Isaac  Watts  as  his  rendering  of  Psalm  117, 
L.  M.  The  power  of  association  is  very  in- 
teresting to  every  one  who  studies  the  work- 
ings of  his  own  mind  and  heart.  Here  now, 
as  this  small  song  of  two  stanzas  is  offered 
for  singing,  how  instinctive  is  the  gathering 
together  of  one's  forces  for  a  speedy  depart- 
ure at  the  close  of  worship !  For  years  the 
custom  held  place  in  most  of  our  grand  re- 
ligious assemblies  of  rising  without  much  for- 
mality of  announcement,  the  leader  merely 
saying  over  solemnly  that  one  line  at  the  be- 
ginning, which  meant  so  much,  "  From  all 
that  dwell  below  the  skies,"  and  the  organist 
striking  only  one  note  of  what  everybody  in 
the  audience  knew  was  "  Old  Hundred,"  and 
then  the  praises  of  a  mighty  chorus  went  up 
to  God !  How  some  of  us  seem  to  hear  this 
chorus  now !  How  the  faces  of  dear  old 
friends  long  gone  come  up  into  view  as  we 
start  the  familiar  strains !  May  the  time 
never  come  when  the  sound  of  this  short 
sweet  hymn  as  the  dismissal  will  wear>'  upon 
our  tongues ! 

I  28  Psalm  65.  L.  M. 

Praise,  Lord,  for  thee  in  Zion  waits; 
Prayer  shall  besiege  thy  temple  gates ; 
All  flesh  shall  to  thy  throne  repair, 
And  find,  through  Christ,  salvation  there. 

2  How  blest  thy  saints !  how  safely  led ! 
How  surely  kept !  how  richly  fed! 
Saviour  of  all  in  earth  and  sea. 

How  happy  they  who  rest  in  thee ! 

3  Thy  hand  sets  fast  the  mighty  hills, 
Thy  voice  the  troubled  ocean  stills  ; 
Evening  and  morning  hymn  thy  praise, 
And  earth  thy  bounty  wide  displays. 

4  The  year  is  with  thy  goodness  crowned ; 
Thy  clouds  drop  wealth  the  world  around ; 
Through  thee  the  deserts  laugh  and  sing. 
And  nature  smiles  and  owns  her  King. 

5  Lord,  on  our  souls  thy  Spirit  pour  ; 
The  moral  waste  within  restore  ; 

Oh,  let  thy  love  our  spring-tide  be. 
And  make  us  all  bear  fruit  to  thee. 

We  have  here  Rev.  Henry  Francis  Lyte's 
version  of  Psalm  65.  It  reminds  one  at  once 
of  Dr.  Watts'  somewhat  similar  commence- 
ment ;  but  it  differs  from  the  whole  structure 
of  his  in  that  it  groups  together  other  verses 
of  the  sacred  poem,  and  so  leads  us  into  a 
fine  and   high  contemplation   of   nature  as 


showing  forth  God's  praise  in  return  for  his 
bounty. 

The  same  hand  which  trimmed  the  husks 
of  green  buds  away  from  the  opening  blossom 
presides  over  all  the  fruitful  development,  and 
at  the  last  tinges  the  borders  of  the  leaves 
with  most  wonderful  pencilings  of  light.  His 
hand  shakes  the  boughs  in  the  autumn,  and 
by  the  same  law  that  brings  forth  Mazzaroth 
in  his  season,  that  guides  Arcturus  with  his 
sons,  conducts  the  trembling  things  to  their 
forest  grave  at  the  foot  of  the  trunk  they  had 
aided  to  foster.  God  buries  all  these  leaves 
unhelped  and  alone.  He  is  doing  this  all  the 
time,  far  up  in  sylvan  solitudes  where  never 
the  eyes  of  man  have  glanced,  where  the 
brook  from  the  mountains  "  sings  on  and 
skips  on,  nor  knows  its  loneliness."  It  is 
when  a  Christian  contemplates  such  minute 
and  delicate  providences  as  the  covenant  of 
nature  discloses  that  he  understands  the  ex- 
traordinary personifications  of  the  ancient 
imagery.  The  whole  earth  seems  to  be  intel- 
ligently cheerful  in  the  companionship  of  its 
benefactor :  "  For  ye  shall  go  out  with  joy, 
and  be  led  forth  with  peace :  the  mountains 
and  the  hills  shall  break  forth  before  you  into 
singing,  and  all  the  trees  of  the  field  shall  clap 
their  hands." 

I  29  Psalm  146.  L.  P.  M. 

1  'll  praise  my  Maker  with  my  breath, 
And,  when  my  voice  is  lost  in  death. 

Praise  shall  employ  my  nobler  powers: 
My  days  of  praise  shall  ne'er  be  past 
While  life,  and  thought,  and  being  last, 

Or  immortality  endures. 

2  Happy  the  man  whose  hopes  rely 
On  Israel's  God — he  made  the  sky, 

And  earth,  and  seas,  with  all  their  train: 
His  truth  for  ever  stands  secure  ; 
He  saves  the  oppressed,  he  feeds  the  poor ; 

And  none  shall  find  his  promise  vain. 

3  He  loves  his  saints— ^he  knows  them  well. 
But  turns  the  wicked  down  to  hell: 

Thy  God,  O  Zion  !  ever  reigns; 
Let  every  tongue,  let  every  age. 
In  this  exalted  work  engage: 

Praise  him  in  everlasting  strains. 

4  I  '11  praise  him  while  he  lends  me  breath. 
And,  when  my  voice  is  lost  in  death. 

Praise  shall  employ  my  nobler  powers: 
My  days  of  praise  shall  ne'er  be  (>ast 
While  life,  and  thought,  and  being  last, 

Or  immortality  endures. 

This  is  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  version  of  Psalm 
146,  P.  M.  His  title  of  it  is  "  Praise  to  God 
for  his  Goodness  and  Truth."  John  Wesley, 
in  the  course  of  his  editing  of  it  for  his  Psalms 
and  Hymns,  1741,  made  a  number  of  changes 
which  were  not  for  the  better,  and  have  only 
ser\'ed  to  confuse  the  forms  in  which  it  ap- 
pears in  various  modern  hymnals.  It  was  the 
strain,  however,  which  lingered  longest  and 
latest  in  that  good  man's  mind  during  the  last 


GENERAL   PRAISE. 


63 


two  days  of  his  life  on  earth.  For  in  his  dy- 
ing moments,  so  his  biog-rapher  says,  his  voice 
was  exhausted  :  he  tried  again  and  again  to 
repeat  the  stanzas,  but  he  could  only  man- 
age to  speak  the  words :  "  I  '11  praise — I  '11 
praise — "  and  so  he  died. 


130 


God's  Glory. 


L.  M. 


Come,  O  my  soul !  in  sacred  lays 
Attempt  thy  great  Creator's  praise: 
But,  oh,  what  tongue  can  speak  his  fame? 
What  mortal  verse  can  reach  the' theme? 

2  Enthroned  amid  the  radiant  spheres, 
He  glory  like  a  garment  wears  ; 

To  form  a  robe  of  light  divine, 

Ten  thousand  suns  around  him  shine. 

3  In  all  our  Maker's  grand  designs 
Almighty  power  with  wisdom  shines ; 

His  works  through  all  this  wondrous  frame 
Declare  the  glory  of  his  name. 

4.    Raised  on  devotion's  lofty  wing, 
Do  thou,  my  soul,  his  glories  sing  ; 
And  let  his  praise  emplov  thy  tongue, 
Till  listening  worlds  shall  join  the  song! 

The  author  of  this  hymn,  Rev.  Thomas 
Blacklock,  D.  D.,  was  born  in  Annan,  Scot- 
land, November  10,  1721.  When  we  bear  in 
mind  that  this  poet  of  the  Church  lost  his  eye- 
sight by  smallpox  before  he  was  half  a  year 
old,  and  so  was  absolutely  blind  for  the  three- 
score and  ten  years  he  lived,  we  can  better 
appreciate  the  wonderful  sentiment  of  an  as- 
cription like  this,  which  dwells  upon  the  glory 
of  God  in  the  stars  and  "  radiant  spheres  "  of 
the  heavens,  hidden  to  all  except  the  spiritual 
vision  of  his  imaginative  faith.  He  managed 
to  obtain  an  education  which  gave  him  full 
rank  with  some  of  the  best  scholars  of  the 
age  in  which  he  lived  and  preached  and  wrote 
voluminously.  In  1760  he  became  pastor  of 
the  congregation  at  Dumfries  in  connection 
with  the  Established  Church  of  Scotland,  and 
was  regularly  ordained  to  the  ministry. 

But  he  had  trouble  in  his  parish,  and  after 
a  stormy  period  of  ecclesiastical  litigation  he 
yielded  the  place  and  gave  up  the  work.  Then 
he  moved  into  Edinburgh  and  with  his  wife's 
help  set  up  a  boarding  and  day  school.  He 
also  wrote  books,  poetry,  and  prose.  To  the 
original  edition  of  the  Encyclopcedia  Britan- 
nt'ca  he  contributed  his  celebrated  paper  on 
the  education  of  the  blind.  He  died  in  Edin- 
burgh, of  a  nervous  fever,  July  7,  1791.  Fol- 
lowing his  rhyming  taste,  he  once  wrote  a 
description  of  himself — which  self  he  had 
never  seen : 

"  Straight  is  my  person,  but  of  little  size ; 
Lean  are  my  cheeks,  and  hollow  are  my  eyes ; 
My  youthful  down  is,  like  my  talent,  rare; 
Politely  distant  stands  each  single  hair. 
My  voice,  too  rough  to  charm  a  lady's  ear, 
So  smooth  a  child  may  listen  without  fear  : 
Not  formed  in  cadence,  soft  and  warbling  lays, 
To  soothe  the  fair  through  pleasure's  wanton  ways. 


My  form  so  fine,  so  regular,  so  new. 
My  port  so  niauly,  and  so  ircsli  my  hue. 
Oft,  as  I  meet  the  crowd,  they  laughing  say: 
'  See — see  Memento  Mori  cross  the  way  !'  " 

131  Psalm  29.  L.  M. 

Give  to  the  Lord,  ye  sons  of  fame. 
Give  to  the  Lord  renown  and  power ; 

Ascribe  due  honors  to  his  name, 
And  his  eternal  might  adore. 

2  The  Lord  proclaims  his  power  aloud. 
O'er  all  the  ocean  and  the  land : 

His  voice  divides  the  watery  cloud, 
And  lightnings  blaze  at  his  command. 

3  The  Lord  sits  Sovereign  on  the  flooil  ; 
The  Thunderer  reigns  tor  ever  King ; 

But  makes  his  church  his  blest  abode. 
Where  we  his  awful  glories  sing. 

4  In  gentler  language,  there  the  Lord 
The  counsels  of  his  grace  imparts ; 

Amid  the  raging  storm  his  word 
Speaks  peace  and  courage  to  our  hearts. 

In  his  rendering  of  old  temple  songs  Pr. 
Isaac  Watts  offered  only  this  version  in  long 
meter  of  Psalm  29.  The  title  he  affixed  to  it 
well  describes  the  poetry  :  "  Storm  and  Thun- 
der." It  consists  of  six  stanzas,  notable  for 
their  fine  versification  and  for  the  majesty  of 
the  sentiment  they  express.  The  psalm  is 
remarkable  as  a  description  of  the  oncoming, 
the  progress,  and  the  subsidence  of  a  tempest 
of  wind  and  rain,  with  lightning  rending  the 
forests  and  blinding  one's  eyes  as  he  watches 
its  advance  and  retreat.  McCheyne  and  An- 
drew Bonar  vied  with  each  other  unconsciously 
in  sketching  the  method  of  the  poem  as  it  ap- 
pears from  the  pen  of  David.  The  words  of 
the  latter  in  his  published  comment  are  worth 
quoting :  "  We  might,  no  doubt,  apply  every 
clause  of  it  to  the  Lord's  display  of  his  maj- 
esty in  any  thunder-storm.  An  awestruck 
spectator  cries,  as  the  lightning  plays  and  the 
thunder  rolls :  '  The  God  of  glory  thunder- 
eth !'  (Verse  5).  '  The  voice  of  Jehovah  is 
breaking  the  cedars !'  And  as  the  crash  is 
heard,  '  The  Lord  has  broken  the  cedars  of 
Lebanon  !  Travelers  tell  us  of  the  solemnity 
and  terrific  force  of  storms  in  the  East.  But 
the  thunders  of  the  Great  Day  shall,  most 
of  all,  call  forth  these  strains  to  the  Lord 
the  king." 

132  "  God  is  Here."  L.  M. 

Lo,  God  is  here  !  let  us  adore  ! 

And  own  how  dreadful  is  this  place! 
Let  all  within  us  feel  his  power. 

And,  silent,  bow  before  his  face. 

2  Lo,  God  is  here  !  him  day  and  night 
LTnited  choirs  of  angels  sing: 

To  him,  enthroned  above  all  height. 
Let  saints  their  humble  worship  bring. 

3  Lord  God  of  hosts !  oh,  may  our  praise 
Thy  courts  with  grateful  incense  fill ! 

Still  may  we  stand  before  thy  face, 
Still  hear  and  do  thy  sovereign  will. 


64 


GENERAL    PRAISE. 


JOHN  WESLEY. 

Rev.  John  Wesley  is  known  to  us  in  the 
realm  of  hymnologists  better  by  his  transla- 
tions than  by  his  original  compositions.  In 
appearance  he  was  below  the  medium  height, 
being  about  five  feet  four  inches  tall,  though 
admirably  proportioned  in  his  physical  make- 
up. In  his  well-moulded  countenance  a 
prominent  nose,  piercing  eye,  firm  and  neatly- 
cut  lips  formed  striking  features,  while  his 
energy  yet  dignity  of  action,  his  scholarly 
ability  and  remarkable  culture,  overspread  as 
they  were  by  a  light  of  benignant  piety,  ren- 
dered him  a  conspicuous  figure  wherever  he 
went. 

He  has  recorded  concerning  this  piece  that 
he  chose  it  from  the  hymns  of  Gerhard  Ters- 
teegen,  the  Westphalian  poet,  author  of  many 
of  the  finest  of  the  German  songs  for  worship. 
It  is  the  one  known  as  "Gott  ist  gegentuar- 
tig"  found  in  The  Spiritual  Flower-Gardeti, 
published  in  1731,  and  finds  its  suggestion,  of 
course,  in  Jacobs  words.  Genesis  28  :  16,  17. 
The  translation  was  made  during  the  voyage 
of  the  two  Wesley  brothers  to  Georgia.  The 
history  of  John  Wesley  is  too  familiar  to  all 
readers  of  religious  literature  to  require  any 
rehearsal  in  such  annotations  as  these.  He 
was  born  at  Epworth  parsonage,  Lincoln- 
shire, England,  as  the  fourth  son  of  nineteen 
children,  June  17,  1703.  He  is  always  reck- 
oned as  the  founder  of  the  Methodist  denom- 
ination ;  he  preached  40,000  sermons  and 
traveled  a  quarter  of  a  million  of  miles.  After 
holding  a  service  in  a  private  house  in  London 
one  day,  he  returned  to  his  home  feeling  very 
ill.     He  was  then  eighty-eight  years  old ;  it 


was  his  last  sermon,  fitly  founded  upon  the 
text,  "  Seek  ye  the  Lord  while  he  may  be 
found  •"  he  died  shortly  after,  March  2,  1791. 

I  33  A  Joyful  Song.  L.  M. 

Sing  to  the  Lord  a  joyful  song  ; 

Lift  up  your  liearts,  your  voices  raise ; 
To  us  his  gracious  gifts  belong, 
To  him  our  songs  of  love  and  praise. 

2  For  life  and  love,  for  rest  and  food, 
For  daily  help  and  nightly  care, 

Sing  to  the  Lord,  for  he  is  good. 
And  praise  his  name,  for  it  is  fair. 

3  For  strength  to  those  who  on  him  wait, 
His  truth  to  prove,  his  will  to  do, 

Praise  ye  our  God,  for  he  is  great, 
Trust  in  his  name,  for  it  is  true: 

4  For  joys  untold  that  daily  move 
Round  those  who  love  his  sweet  employ, 

Sing  to  our  God,  for  he  is  love, 
Exalt  his  name,  for  it  is  joy: 

5  For  life  below,  with  all  its  bliss. 
And  for  that  life,  more  pure  and  high, 

That  inner  life,  which  over  this 
Sliall  ever  shine,  and  never  die. 

The  facts  concerning  the  Rev.  John  Sam- 
uel Bewley  Monsell,  LL.  D.,  are  easily  ascer- 
tained from  any  one  of  the  manuals  of  hym- 
nology ;  for  his  work  is'  of  such  excellent 
merit  that  he  has  found  a  place  at  once  in  all 
the  collections  of  sacred  songs.  He  was  the 
son  of  Archdeacon  Monsell,  born  at  St.  Co- 
lumb's,  Londonderry,  in  Ireland,  March  2, 
181 1,  educated  at  Trinity  College,  Dublin, 
graduating  in  1832.  He  entered  the  Episco- 
pal ministry  in  1834,  and,  after  several  fields 
of  working,  at  last  in  1870  he  became  rector 
of  St.  Nicholas,  Guildford,  Surrey,  where  he 
died  in  consequence  of  injuries  received  fi'om 
a  fall  off  from  the  roof  of  his  church,  April  o, 
1875.  This  hymn  was  published  in  his  vol- 
ume entitled  Hymns  of  Lcme  and  Praise. 
The  text  annexed  to  it  is  Psalm  145  :  i,  2,  and 
it  consists  of  five  double  stanzas. 

134  '' Beauty  of  Holiness."  P.M. 

Worship  the  Lord  in  the  beauty  of  holiness; 

Bow  down  before  him,  his  glory  proclaim  ; 
With  gold  of  obedience  and  incense  of  lowliness, 

Kneel,  and  adore  him  ;  the  Lord  is  his  name ! 

2  Low  at  his  feet  lay  thy  burden  of  carefulfiess, 
High  on  his  heart  he  will  bear  it  for  thee; 

Comfort  thy  sorrows,  and  answer  thy  prayerfulness, 
Guiding  thy  steps  as  may  best  for  thee  be. 

3  Fear  not  to  enter  his  courts  in  the  slendeniess 
Of  the  poor  wealth  thou  wouldst  reckon  as  thine ; 

Truth  in  its  beauty,  and  love  in  its  tenderness, 
These  are  the  offerings  to  lay  on  his  shrine. 

4  These,  though  we  bring  them  in  trembling  and  fear- 

fulness. 
He  will  accept  for  the  name  that  is  dear ; 
Mornings  of  joy  give  for  evenings  of  tearfulness, 
Trust  for  our  trembling,  and  hope  for  our  fear. 

Another  of  the  fine  hymns  with  which  Rev. 
John  Samuel  Bewley  Monsell  has  enriched 
the  church,  and  characterized  by  his  almost 
matchless  grace   of   versification  as  a  lyric 


GENERAL   PRAISE. 


65 


song.  It  was  originally  issued  in  his  Hymns 
of  Lave  and  Praise,  1863,  where  it  appears 
with  the  exclamation  "  Oh  "  at  the  beginning  of 
its  first  line.  The  exigencies  of  musical  adap- 
tation render  it  almost  a  necessity  that  this 
should  be  dropped,  precisely  as  the  author 
did  drop  it  when  he  prepared  a  new  version 
of  the  poem  for  his  Parish  Hymnal,  issued 
ten  years  later. 
133  God's  Grace.  L.  M. 

Now  to  the  Lord  a  noble  song! 
Awake,  my  soul,  awake,  my  tongue! 
Hosanna  to  the  eternal  name, 
And  all  his  boundless  love  proclaim. 

2  See  where  it  shines  in  Jesus'  face. 
The  brightest  image  of  his  grace! 
God,  in  the  person  of  his  Son, 

Hath  all  his  mightiest  works  outdone. 

3  ,  Grace  ! — 't  is  a  sweet,  a  charming  theme : 
My  thoughts  rejoice  at  Jesus'  name: 

Ye  angels!  dwell  upon  the  sound: 
Ye  heavens  !  reflect  it  to  the  ground. 

4  Oh,  may  I  reach  that  happy  place 
Wliere  he  unvails  his  lovely  face. 
Where  all  his  beauties  you  ttehold. 
And  sing  his  name  to  harps  of  gold. 

In  Book  II.  of  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  Hymns 
this  is  found  as  No.  47.  It  is  entitled  "  Glory 
and  Grace  in  the  Person  of  Christ,"  and  has 
six  stanzas.  It  has  been  remarked  of  this 
wonderful  man  by  his  candid  biographer  that 
he  sometimes  wandered  into  the  regions  of 
unauthorized  speculation,  and  grappled  with 
knowledge  "  too  wonderful "  for  a  finite  in- 
tellect to  embrace  in  all  its  height  and  length 
and  breadth  and  depth.  To  err  is  human,  and 
even-handed  justice  requires  the  admission 
that  Watts  shared  the  common  lot.  His 
great  intellectual  infirmity  was  undue  spir- 
itual curiosity,  though  it  was  indulged  from 
the  purest  motives  and  with  the  best  inten- 
tions. Thus  he  sought  to  explore  the  mys- 
tery of  the  incomprehensible  Jehovah,  and 
vainly  beat  the  bars  of  the  prison-house  which 
here  environs  every  mortal,  to  the  no  small 
disquietude  of  his  spirit.  His  "  solemn  ad- 
dress to  the  great  and  ever-blessed  God," 
written  with  great  eloquence  and  feeling,  be- 
trays the  agony  of  his  soul,  and  his  sense  of 
the  vanity  and  danger  of  attempting  to  be 
wiser  than  what  is  written.  "  Happy  had  it 
been  for  him,"  beautifully  remarks  Southey, 
"  if  he  who  humbled  his  mind  to  the  compo- 
sition of  songs  and  spelling-books  for  chil- 
dren had  applied  to  his  own  case  our  Sa- 
viour's words,  and  in  this  instance  become  as 
a  little  child  himself.  Happy  had  it  been, 
because,  during  the  whole  course  of  his  inno- 
cent and  otherwise  peaceful  life,  he  seems 
never  to  have  been  assailed  by  any  other 
temptation  than  this  of  the  intellect ;  never  to 
have  been  beset  with  any  other  troubles  than 
5 


those  in  which  his  own  subtlety  involved 
him."  He  would  have  avoided  thereby  much 
mental  disturbance  and  profitless  discussion, 
as  well  as  have  had  no  occasion  to  pen  the  self- 
condemning  though  thankful  acknowledg- 
ment, "  Blessed  be  the  name  of  my  God,  that 
he  has  not  suffered  me  to  abandon  the  gospel 
of  his  Son  Jesus."  It  is  full  of  joy  and  cheer 
to  us,  to  whom  his  name  and  fame  are  dear, 
that  he  found  his  absolute  peace  of  mind  in 
the  contemplation  of  God's  grace  as  above 
every  other  attribute  he  possessed.  It  was  of 
that  Jesus'  face  became  "  the  brightest  image." 
In  his  later  life  he  was  wont  to  say  on  retir- 
ing to  rest,  as  if  the  thought  were  habitual  to 
him :  "  I  bless  God  I  can  lie  down  with  com- 
fort at  night,  not  being  solicitous  whether  I 
wake  in  this  world  or  another." 

136  "  Te  Deum."  L.  M. 
Lord  God  of  Hosts,  by  all  adored ! 

Thy  name  we  praise  with  one  accord  ; 

The  earth  and  heavens  are  full  of  thee, 

Thy  light,  thy  love,  thy  majesty. 

2    Loud  hallelujahs  to  thy  name 

Angels  and  seraphim  proclaim  ; 

Eternal  praise  to  thee  is  given 

By  all  the  powers  and  thrones  in  heaven. 

,-?     The  apostles  join  the  glorious  throng, 

The  prophets  aid  to  swell  the  song, 

Tlie  noble  and  triumphant  host 

Of  martyrs  make  of  thee  their  boast. 

4  The  holy  church  in  every  place 
Throughout  the  world  exalts  thy  praise ; 
Both  heaven  and  earth  do  worship  thee. 
Thou  Father  of  eternity  ! 

5  From  (lay  to  day,  O  Lord,  do  we 
Highly  exalt  and  honor  thee; 

Thy  name  we  worship  an<l  adore 
World  without  end  for  evermore. 

This  piece  of  poetry-,  continued  in  Laudes 
Domini  as  it  first  appeared  in  Songs  for  the 
Sanctuary,  1865,  compiled  by  the  same  hand, 
has  puzzled  a  great  many  of  the  critics  who 
exercise  themselves  in  looking  for  traces  of 
authorship.  The  simple  fact  is,  the  hymn,  as 
it  now  stands,  was  aggregated  from  a  half- 
dozen  versions  of  the  Te  Deum  by  as  many 
translators.  The  five  stanzas  grew  under  the 
hands  of  all  those  who  attempted  to  use  it.  • 
One  part  came  from  Plymouth  Collection,  and 
another  from  tlie  Moravian  Hymn-Book. 
Each  compiler  seems  to  have  added  a  little 
touch  of  his  own.  And  the  tune  "  Ware," 
with  which  it  has  become  fixedly  associated 
during  the  thirty  years  of  use,  had  a  strong 
influence  in  shaping  the  cadences  of  the  lines. 
Josiah  Conder  is  in  it,  and  Bishop  Gambold, 
and  a  few  others  of  equal  fame.  But  it  might 
as  well  be  for  ever  marked  Anon. 

1 37  Psalm  36.  L.  M. 
High  in  the  heavens,  eternal  God ! 

Thy  goodness  in  full  glory  shines  ; 
Thy  truth  shall  break  through  every  cloud 
That  vails  and  darkens  thy  designs. 


66 


GENERAL    PRAISE. 


2  For  ever  firm  thy  justice  stands, 

As  mountains  their  foundations  keep  : 
"Wise  are  the  wonders  of  thy  hands  ; 
Thy  judgments  are  a  mighty  deep. 

3  From  the  provisions  of  thy  house 
We  shall  be  fed  with  sweet  repast ; 

There  mercy  Hke  a  river  flows, 
And  brings  salvation  to  our  taste. 

4  Life,  like  a  fountain  rich  and  free. 
Springs  from  the  presence  of  my  Lord  ; 

And  in  thy  light  our  souls  shall  see 
The  glories  promised  in  thy  word. 

■  Dr.  Isaac  Watts  has  offered  this  as  his  ver- 
sion of  Psalm  36,  L.  M.  It  is  entitled  "  The 
Perfections  and  Providences  of  God  ;  or,  Gen- 
eral Providence  and  Special  Grace."  It  is 
the  hymn  one  would  sing  on  the  way  to 
church ;  it  makes  one  think  as  he  reads  it  of 
a  summer  walk  over  the  hills,  with  mountains 
in  prospect  and  white  clouds  trailing  above 
his  head,  the  sea  perhaps  gleaming  in  the  dis- 
tance, and  the  spire  of  a  village  sanctuary 
lifting  its  slender  finger  to  point  the  way  to 
God. 

1 38  ^^  Triune  God.  P.  M. 

Holy,  holy,  holy.  Lord  God  Almighty  ! 

Early  in'the  morning  our  song  shall  rise  to  thee; 
Holy,  holy,  holy,  merciful  and  mighty, 
God  in  three  persons,  blessed  Trinity. 

2  Holy,  holy,  holy  !  all  the  saints  adore  thee, 
CastiHg  down  their   golden  crowns    around    the 

glassy  sea ; 
Cherubim  and  seraphim  falling  down  before  thee, 
Which  wert  and  art  and  evermore  shalt  be. 

3  Holy,  holy,  holy !  though  the  darkness  hide  thee, 
Though  the  eye  of  sinful  man  thy  glory  may  not 

see ; 
Only  thou  art  holy ;  there  is  none  beside  thee. 
Perfect  in  power,  in  love  and  purity. 

4  Holv,  holy,  holy!  Lord  God  Almighty! 

All  thy  works  shall  praise  thy  name,  in  earth  and 
sky  and  sea ; 
Holy,  holy,  holy,  merciful  and  mighty; 
God  in  three  persons,  blessed  Trinity ! 

In  the  "  Account  of  First  Rank  Hymns," 
issued  in  the  interest  of  Anglican  Hymnolo- 
gy,  this  one,  written  by  Bishop  Reginald  Heber 
in  1827,  is  registered  as  the  eleventh  upon  the 
list  in  point  of  merit  and  also  according  to 
use  in  the  collections.  It  appeared  first  in 
the  volume  called  Hymns  Written  and 
Adapted  to  the  Weekly  Service  of  the  Year. 
A  reference  is  made  to  the  portion  of  Scrip- 
ture appointed  for  the  Epistle  on  Trinity  Sun- 
day, especially  to  the  words  "  They  rest  not 
day  and  night,  saying,  Holy,  holy,  holy,  Lord 
God  Almighty,  which  was,  and  is,  and  is  to 
come."  The  hymn  has  had  vast  popularity 
for  its  real  merit,  for  it  is  as  stately  and  beau- 
tiful as  an  anthem ;  but  the  tune  to  which  it 
is  now  invariably  sung,  "  Nicaea,"  by  Dr. 
Dykes,  has  given  it  a  matchless  glory  all  over 
the  world.  This  piece  of  music  was  made 
expressly  for  this  poem,  and  took  its  name 
from  the  fact  that  Nicsea,  in  Asia  Minor,  was 


the  city  in  which  the  chief  Christian  Ecumeni- 
cal Council  held  its  assemblies  in  A.  D.  325. 
It  was  on  this  occasion  that  the  doctrines  of 
Christ's  eternal  sonship  and  his  equality  with 
the  Father  were  settled  as  the  creed  of  the 
churches;  then. also  the  doctrine  of  the  Holy 
Trinity,  which  the  Arians  had  attacked,  wa* 
established.  Hence  a  Trinity  hymn,  fine  as 
this,  became  associated  with  a  strain  of  music 
bearing  the  name  of  the  ancient  town  where 
the  Council  was  held. 

1 39  Psalm  65.  C.  M. 

Praise  waits  in  Zion,  Lord  !  for  thee  ; 

There  shall  our  vows  be  paid  ; 
Thou  hast  an  ear  when  sinners  pray  ; 

All  flesh  shall  seek  thine  aid. 

2  O  Lord  !  our  guilt  and  fears  prevail. 
But  pardoning  grace  is  thine  ; 

And  thou  wilt  grant  us  power  and  skill 
To  conquer  every  sin. 

3  Blest  are  the  men  whom  thou  wilt  choose 
To  bring  them  near  thy  face ; 

Give  them  a  dwelling  in  thy  house, 
To  feast  upon  thy  grace. 

4  In  answering  what  thy  church  requests. 
Thy  truth  and  terror  shine  ; 

And  works  of  dreadful  righteousness 
Fulfill  thy  kind  design. 

5  Thus  shall  the  wondering  nations  see 
The  Lord  is  good  and  just ; 

The  distant  isles  shall  fly  to  thee. 
And  make  thy  name  their  trust. 

This  is  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  version  of  Psaln^ 
65,  First  Part,  C.  M.  It  has  six  stanzas,  and 
bears  the  inscription,  "  A  Prayer-hearing  God, 
and  the  Gentiles  called."  One  line  in  this 
first  verse  contains  the  whole  purpose  of  sing- 
ing in  church,  and  another  line  suggests  a 
modification  in  the  form.  Praise  waits  for 
God — that  is  the  purpose  ;  God  has  an  ear — 
that  touches  a  delicate  but  wholesome  sug- 
gestion. We  quote  a  paragraph  from  one  of 
our  religious  periodicals  of  highest  standing, 
which  had  been  censuring  some  choirs  for 
careless  work : 

"  W'hat  are  hymns  for,  in  any  church .'  We 
greatly  fear  that  other  churches  than  those 
which  we  have  named  are  occasional  sinners 
in  the  same  way  or  in  a  similar  way.  Every 
reader  of  these  words,  unless  we  are  happily 
mistaken,  can  remember  instances  in  which 
music  has  been  introduced  to  amuse  the  peo- 
ple, or  can  recall  hymns  which  the  majority 
of  the  choir,  or  of  the  congregation,  did  not 
seem  to  regard  as  a  part  of  Christian  wor- 
ship, expressing  the  sincerest  convictions  of 
the  religious  body  using  them.  Too  often,  in 
soundly  evangelical  and  orthodox  churches,  a 
well-paid  choir  sings  hymns  or  anthems  or 
sentences  in  which  the  congregation  can  take 
no  part,  for  the  very  sufficient  reason  that  the 
words    are   utterly    indistinguishable.      Too 


GENERAL   PRAISE. 


67 


often  a  random  choice  of  an  inappropriate  set 
of  verses  jars  discordantly  upon  the  fitness  of 
the  ser\nce  or  the  sanctity  of  the  place.  Too 
often  the  singers,  paid  and  unpaid,  regular 
and  volunteer,  give  utterance  to  words,  words, 
words,  with  never  a  thought  of  the  meaning. 
The  holiest  aspirations  of  the  great  Christian 
lyrists — Watts,  Wesley,  Montgomery,  Top- 
lady,  Faber,  and  the  rest — are  thus  made  vain 
repetitions.  The  outpourings  of  the  devout 
sou!  are  turned  into  an  empty  mockery.  The 
words  of  Scripture  itself,  at  times,  are  '  ren- 
dered '  not  as  by  one  who  says  from  the  heart, 
'  Let  everything  that  hath  breath  praise  the 
Lord,'  but  as  one  who  addresses  a  divinity 
who,  having  ears,  hears  not." 

140  Psalm  27.  C.  M. 

The  Lord  of  glory  is  my  light, 

And  my  ssalvation  too  ; 
God  Is  my  strength — nor  will  I  fear 

What  all  my  foes  can  do. 

2  One  privilege  my  heart  desires — 
Oh,  grant  me  an  abode 

Among  the  churches  of  thy  saints, 
The  temples  of  my  God. 

3  There  shall  I  offer  my  requests, 
And  see  thy  beauty  still ; 

Shall  hear  thy  messages  of  love, 
And  there  inquire  thy  will. 

4  When  troubles  rise  and  storms  appear, 
There  may  his  children  hide  ; 

God  has  a  strong  pavilion,  where 
He  makes  my  soul  abide. 

5  Now  shall  my  head  be  lifted  high 
Above  my  foes  around  ; 

And  songs  of  joy  and  victory 
Within  thy  temple  sound. 

Dr.  Isaac  Watts  has  given  us  this  as  his 
version  of  Psalm  27,  C.  M.,  First  Part.  It 
has  five  stanzas,  and  is  entitled  "  The  Church 
is  our  Delight  and  Safety." 

141  "  The  Voice  of  Ptaise."  CM. 

Lift  up  to  God  the  voice  of  praise. 

Whose  breath  our  souls  inspired  ; 
Loud  and  more  loud  the  anthem  raise, 

With  grateful  ardor  fired. 

2  Lift  up  to  God  the  voice  of  praise. 
Whose  goodness,  p^ssinsr  thought. 

Loads  every  minute,  as  it  flies, 
With  benefits  unsought. 

3  Lift  up  to  God  the  voice  of  praise, 
From  whom  salvation  flows. 

Who  sent  his  Son  our  souls  to  save 
From  everlasting  woes. 

4  Lift  up  to  God  the  voice  of  praise 
For  hope's  transporting  ray, 

Which  lights,  through  darkest  shades  of  death. 
To  realms  of  endless  day. 

Rev.  Ralph  Wardlaw,  D.  D.,  was  a  Scotch 
Congregationalist ;  in  1 803  he  was  ordained 
to  the  ministry  and  installed  as  pastor  of  a 
church  in  Glasgow.  He  must  have  been  pre- 
cocious in  intellect,  for  he  entered  on  his  col- 
legiate course  in  Glasgow  University  at  twelve 
years  of  age ;  he  was  born  at  Dalkeith,  Mid- 


lothian, December  22,  1779.  In  181 1  he  was 
made  Professor  of  Divinity  in  Glasgow  Theo- 
logical Academy,  in  which  office  he  remained 
until  his  death,  December  17,  1853.  He 
edited  a  volume  of  psalms  and  hymns  for  the 
use ;  of  Scottish  Congregationalists,  in  which 
he  included  several  original  pieces  of  his  own. 
This  hymn  has  in  it  a  fine  ring  of  challenge 
and  invitation  that  is  full  of  fervor  and  inspi- 
ration. It  calls  to  praise — praise  and  the  giv- 
ing of  thanks  from  grateful  hearts — as  the 
one  hope,  duty,  and  help  of  the  believer.  We 
all  remember  the  old  classic  stories  of  the 
dangerous  Sirens  which  infested  a  certain 
island,  seducing  the  pilots  as  they  approached 
and  so  destroying  the  ships.  Ulysses  tried 
force  in  resistance ;  he  filled  the  ears  of  his 
sailors  with  wax  so  that  they  could  not  hear 
the  song,  and  fastened  himself  to  the  mast  so 
that  he  could  not  yield  to  it.  But  the  Argo- 
nauts tried  cunning  instead ;  they  took  Or- 
pheus on  board  with  a  lyre,  and  his  music  so 
transcended  that  of  the  sea-nymphs  that  they 
admitted  they  were  beaten  with  their  own  in- 
struments of  attack.  Let  the  children  of  God 
keep  on  singing  praises  to  him,  and  they  will 
be  safe. 


142 


'  Salvation  to  God.' 


Ye  servants  of  God,  your  Master  proclaim, 
And  publish  abroad  his  wonderful  name  ; 
The  name  all-victorious  of  Jesus  extol ; 
His  kingdom  is  glorious,  he  rules  over  all. 

2  God  ruleth  on  high,  almighty  to  save  : 
And  still  he  is  nigh — his  presence  we  have ; 
The  great  congregation  his  triumph  shall  sing, 
Ascribing  salvation  to  Jesus  our  King. 

3  Salvation  to  God  who  sits  on  the  throne, 
Let  all  cry  aloud  and  honor  the  Son  ; 

The  praises  of  Jesus  the  angels  proclaim, 

Fall  down  on  their  faces  and  worship  the  Lamb. 

4  Then  let  us  adore  and  give  him  his  ri^ht. 
All  glory,  and  power,  and  wisdom  and  might, 
All  honor  and  blessing,  with  ange's  above. 
And  thanks  never  ceasing,  and  infinite  love. 

This  hymn  is  also  from  the  pen  of  Rev. 
Charles  Wesley ;  it  originally  received  six 
stanzas,  and  is  entitled  "  To  be  sung  in  a  tu- 
mult." History  tells  us  that  in  the  year  1744 
arose  a  spirit  of  fierce  persecution  against  the 
new  people  in  England  called  "  Methodists." 
At  that  time  the  political  aspects  of  the  na- 
tion were  confused ;  the  country  was  at  war 
with  France ;  the  house  of  Stuart  •  was  still 
seeking  full  restoration  ;  an  invasion  was  daily 
expected  for  the  purpose  of  bringing  back  the 
exiled  representative  of  that  proscribed  line, 
and  so  dethroning  King  George  II.  And, 
strangely  enough,  the  followers  of  these  evan- 
gelical leaders  were  accused  of  being  papists 
in  disguise,  actually  working  for  the  cause  of 
the  Pretender  !  Their  meetings  were  broken 
up  by  riots,  and  many  of  their  preachers  were 


68 


GENERAL  PRAISE. 


impressed  into  the  army.  Even  John  and 
Charles  Wesley  were  brought  before  the  mag- 
istrates for  a  strict  and  humiHating  examina- 
tion. In  the  midst  of  these  comfortless  dis- 
turbances from  men  they  sought  help  from 
God.  They  published  that  pamphlet,  con- 
taining thirty-three  pieces,  which  has  come 
down  to  us  in  later  days,  bearing  the  name  of 
"  Hymns  for  Times  of  Trouble  and  Persecu- 
tion." The  present  hymn  appeared  among 
those  in  that  collection. 


143 


"  Worship  the  King.'" 


Oh,  worship  the  King,  all-glorious  above. 
And  Rratefully  sing  his  wonderful  love; 
Our  Shield  and  Defender,  ihe  Ancient  of  days, 
Pavilioned  in  splendor  and  girded  with  praise. 

2  Oh,  tell  of  his  might,  and  sinj;  of  his  grace, 
Whose  robe  is  the  light,  whose  canopy  space  : 
His  chariots  of  wrath  the  deep  thunder-clouds  form , 
And  dark  is  his  path  on  the  wings  of  the  storm. 

3  Thy  bountiful  care  what  tongue  can  recite? 
It  breathes  in  the  air,  it  shines  in  the  light, 

It  streams  from  the  hills,  it  descends  to  the  plain, 
And  sweetly  distills  in  the  dew  and  the  rain. 

4  Frail  children  of  dust,  and  feeble  as  frail, 
In  thee  do  we  trust,  nor  find  thee  to  fail ; 

Thy  mercies  how  tender  1  how  firm  to  the  end  ! 
Our  Maker,  Defender,  Redeemer,  and  Friend. 

The  somewhat  fastidious  Anglican  Hym- 
nology  numbers  among  those  "  first-rank " 
hymns  which  it  commends  as  the  best  in  the 
language,  three  of  Sir  Robert  Grant's  produc- 
tions, of  which  this  is  one.  The  author  was 
born  in  1785 ;  having  studied  at  Magdalen 
College,  Cambridge,  where  he  was  graduated 
in  1806,  he  was  admitted  to  the  bar  the  fol- 
lowing year.  He  became  a  member  of  Par- 
liament for  Inverness,  and  continued  in  pub- 
lic life  till  1 83 1 ,  when  he  was  sworn  a  privy- 
councillor,  and  so  put  in  the  way  of  promo- 
tion from  the  Crown.  Three  years  later,  in 
1 834,  he  was  appointed  Governor  of  Bombay. 
It  was  during  his  residence  in  India  that  he 
not  only  wrote  his  two  books  on  that  coun- 
try, but  also  several  others,  mostly  political 
and  literary.  He  is  best  known  upon  this 
side  of  the  sea  by  his  hymns ;  these  are  few 
in  number  but  excellent  in  spirit,  and  have  de- 
served the  high  popularity  they  have  enjoyed 
among  the  various  churches. 

They  were  written  at  different  periods  of  his 
life,  and  were  gathered  after  his  death  by  his 
brother  Charles,  tord  Glenelg,  and  published 
in  1839  in  a  volume  entitled  Sacred  Poems. 
Sir  Robert  Grant  died  in  the  land  which  he 
had  governed  only  four  years,  and  was  buried 
at  Dapoorie,  in  Western  India,  July  9,  1838. 

144  "  There  Retnaineth  a  Rest"  ics. 

Oh,  what  the  joy  and  the  glory  must  be. 
Those  endless  Sabbaths  the  blessed  ones  see. 
Crowns  for  the  valiant,  to  weary  ones  rest ; 
God  shall  be  all,  and  in  all  ever  blest! 


2  Truly  Jerusalem  name  we  that  shore, 
Vision  of  peace  that  brings  joy  evermore! 
Wish  and  fulfilment  can  severed  be  ne'er. 

Nor  the  thing  prayed  for  come  short  of  the  prayer. 

3  There,  where  no  troubles  distraction  can  bring. 
We  the  sweet  anthems  of  Zion  shall  sing; 

While  for  thy  grace,  Lonl,  their  voices  of  praise 
Thy  blessed  people  eternally  raise. 

4  Tiiere  dawns  no  Satibath,  no  Sabbath  is  o'er. 
Those  Sabbath-keepers  have  one  evermore ; 

•  One  and  unending  is  that  triumi.h-song 
Which  to  the  angels  and  us  shall  belong. 

5  Low  before  him  with  our  praises  wc  fall. 

Of  whom,  and  in  whom,  and  through  whom  are  all ; 
Of  whom,  the  Father  ;  and  in  whom,  the  Son; 
Through  whom,  the  Spirit,  with  them  ever  one. 

This  spirited  hymn  is  a  translation  of  Peter 
Abelard's  O  quanta  qualia  sunt  ilia  sabbata, 
written  in  the  twelfth  century.  The  render- 
ing here  given  is  made  by  John  Mason  Neale, 
who  has  enriched  our  modern  hymnology 
with  versions  of  many  of  the  finest  treasures 
of  the  Greek  and  Latin  Churches  ;  it  has  been 
the  best  service  of  his  life. 


REV.    JOHN   M.    NEALE,   D.  D. 

Rev.  John  Mason  Neale,  D.  D.,  was  born 
in  Conduit  Street,  London,  January  24,  181 8. 
In  1836  he  entered  Trinity  College  in  Cam- 
bridge, and,  taking  prizes  almost  at  once  in 
evidence  of  his  superiority  in  industry  and  in- 
tellectual force,  he  easily  won  the  distinction 
of  being  the  best  man  in  his  class.  In  1840 
he  entered  the  ministry  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land. Although  he  was  educated,  trained, 
and  powerfully  moulded  by  his  mother,  of 
whom  he  once  said  :  "  To  whom  I  owe  more 
than  I  can  express  ;"  and  although  his  mother 
and  his  father  are  reputed  to  have  been  "  very 
pronounced  evangelists,"  this  son  became  at 


GENERAL    PRAISE. 


69 


once  one  of  the  most  advanced  of  the  Ritual- 
ists in  England.  He  started  sisterhoods,  he 
instituted  orders,  he  made  establishments  ;  he 
accepted  alterations  of  the  ritual  in  the  inter- 
est of  nearer  approach  to  Rome.  He  went 
so  far  in  his  practices  that  at  last  his  bishop 
"  inhibited "  him  for  the  space  of  fourteen 
years ;  mobs  attacked  him,  and  some  of  his 
"  houses  "  were  given  up.  But  he  went  on 
his  way  even  down  to  the  time  of  his  death, 
which  occurred  August  6,  1866.  He  was 
then  in  charge  as  the  Warden  of  Sackville 
College,  East  Grinstead.  His  tastes  were  bet- 
ter fitted  for  a  career  in  the  Middle  Ages.  He 
loved  what  was  mystic,  poetic,  legendary ;  he 
luxuriated  in  reading  and  relating  the  stories 
of  the  saints ;  the  visions  and  so-called  mira- 
cles of  the  past  touched  his  imagination  as  if 
they  had  been  real  and  actual.  Out  of  this 
came  the  incomparable  aptitude  he  possessed 
and  the  success  he  achieved  in  clothing  the 
old  songs  of  the  monks  with  a  rich  and  beau- 
tiful English  dress  for  these  days  of  light  and 
sensibility  in  religious  worship.  He  has  taken 
us  into  his  confidence  in  one  instance,  telling 
us  the  processes  of  his  mind  as  he  ranged  at 
will  through  the  studies  he  made  in  mediaeval 
literature.  "  It  is  a  magnificent  thing,"  he 
says,  "  to  pass  along  the  far-stretching  vista 
of  hymns,  from  the  sublime  self-contained- 
ness  of  St.  Ambrose  to  the  more  fervid  in- 
spiration of  St.  Gregory,  the  exquisite  typolo- 
gy of  Venantius  Fortunatus,  the  lovely  paint- 
ing of  St.  Peter  Damiani,  the  crystal-like  sim- 
plicity of  St.  Notker,  the  scriptural  calm  of 
Godescalcus,  the  subjective  loveliness  of  St. 
Bernard,  till  all  culminate  in  the  full  blaze  of 
glory  which  surrounds  Adam  of  St.  Victor, 
the  greatest  of  them  all." 

1 45  Glory  to  the  Lamb.  los. 

Bi.F.ssiNG  and  honor  and  glory  and  power, 
VVisdom  and  riches  and  strength  evermore, 
Give  ye  to  him  who  our  battle  haih  won, 
Whose  are  the  kingdom,  the  crown,  and  the  throne. 

2  Dweileth  the  light  of  the  glory  with  him, 
Light  of  a  glory  that  cannot  grow  dim. 
Light  in  its  silence  and  beauty  and  calm. 
Light  in  its  gladness  and  brightness  and  balm. 

3  F.ver  ascendeth  the  song  and  the  joy. 
Ever  descendeth  the  love  from  on  high. 
Blessing  and  honor  and  giory  and  praise. 
This  is  the  theme  of  the  hymns  that  we  raise. 

4  Life  of  all  life,  and  true  Light  of  all  light, 
Star  of  the  dawning,  imchangingly  bright. 
Sun  of  the  Salem  whose  lamp  is  the  Lamb, 
Theme  of  the  ever-new,  ever-glad  psalm  ! 

'  s  Give  we  the  glory  and  praise  to  the  Lamb, 
Take  we  the  robe  and  the  harp  and  the  palm, 
Sing  we  the  song  of  the  Lamb  that  was  slain, 
Dying  in  weakness,  but  rising  to  reign. 

Dr.  Horatius  Bonar  added    to  his   many 
other  excellences  as  a  lyric  poet  that  of  va- 


riety in  meter.  He  has  in  this  instance  taken 
quite  an  unusual  measure  of  difficult  rhythm, 
to  which  it  was  not  easy  to  adapt  fitting  mu- 
sic ;  yet  he  has  given  a  hymn  full  of  dignity 
and  grandeur,  representing  the  "  Song  of 
Moses  and  the  Lamb  "  in  heaven  itself. 

It  is  interesting  to  notice  that  whenever  we 
are  shown  the  pageants  of  the  grand  army  of 
God  in  review,  the  Scriptures  represent  the 
legions  as  singing.  And  usually  we  find  re- 
corded the  exact  words  of  their  song.  Evi- 
dently more  is  made  of  music  in  heaven  than 
we  are  wont  to  make  of  it  here  on  earth.  At 
any  rate,  the  words  are  brought  into  more 
prominence  than  modern  artists  are  accus- 
tomed to  give  them.  A  strain  of  inarticulate 
sound  has  power,  but  the  joining  of  intelli- 
gent thought  to  the  tones  is  worth  more  by 
far  as  an  act  of  adoration.  Recall  some  of 
Faber's  lines : 

"  There  are  sounds  like  flakes  of  snow  falling 

In  their  silent  and  eddying  rings: 
We  tremble — they  touch  us  so  lightly. 

Like  the  feathers  from  angels'  wings. 
There  are  pauses  of  marvelous  silence 

That  are  full  of  significant  sound. 
Like  music  echoing  music 

Under  water,  or  under  ground. 
O  music  !  thou  surely  art  worship  ; 

But  thou  art  not  like  pmise  or  prayer; 
And  words  make  better  thanksgiving 

Than  thy  sweet  melodies  are." 


146 


God  in  Creation. 


Honor  and  glory,  thanksgiving  and  praise, 
Maker  of  all  things,  to  thee  we  upraise  ; 
God  the  Almighty,  the  Father,  the  Lord  : 
God  by  the  angels  obeyed  and  adored. 

2  Thou  art  the  Father  of  heaven  and  earth  ; 
Worlds  uncreated  to  thee  owe  their  birth  ; 
All  the  creation,  thy  voice  when  it  heard, 
Stiirted  to  light  and  to  life  at  thy  word. 

3  Onward  the  sun  and  the  moon  on  their  march 
Span  with  the  rainbow  the  firmament's  arch  ; 
Stars  yet  unknown,  and  whose  light  is  to  come, 
Find  in  creation  their  place  and  a  home. 

4  Earth  with  the  mountain,  the  river,  the  plain, 
Skv  with  the  dew-drop,  the  wind,  and  the  rain. 
Beast  of  the  forest,  wild  bird  of  the  air. 

All  are  thy  creatures,  and  all  are  thy  care. 

5  Ocean  the  restless,  and  waters  that  swell, 
"Lightnings  that  flash  over  flood,  over  fell, 
Own  thee  the  Master  Almighty,  and  call 
Thee  the  Creator,  the  Father  of  all. 

6  Yea,  thou  art  Father  of  all.  and  thy  love 
Pity  for  man  that  is  fallen  doth  move ; 
Sharing  our  nature,  though  sinless,  thy  Son 
Came  to  redeem  us,  by  Satan  undone. 

7  God  in  three  Persons !  give  ear  to  our  prayer ; 
Thought,  word,  and  deed  m  thine  image  repair; 
Guide  us  in  life  and  protect  to  the  last. 

And  at  thine  advent.  Lord,  pardon  the  past. 

When  the  Sarmn  Brcmiary,  the  Sarum 
Missal,  and  the  Saruvi  Psalter  had  been 
published,  there  seemed  to  be  wanted  one 
more  volume  in  order  to  complete  the  peculiar 
series.     This  was  the   Sariiin  Hymnal,  and 


70 


GENERAL   PRAISE. 


there  was  just  the  man  close  by  for  the  work. 
The  Rev.  Edward  Arthur  Dayman,  who  had 
Deen  one  of  the  original  compilers  of  the 
book,  now  revised  it  thoroughly  and  added 
somewhat  to  it  also,  and  then  it  took  its  place 
with  the  rest.  His  own  translations  from  the 
ancient  songs  of  the  church  much  increased 
the  value  of  the  collection.  This  one  was 
made  for  Barnby's  Hymnary,  1872,  and  is  of 
the  same  excellent  structure  as  the  others  in 
both  meter  and  sentiment.  It  is  a  version  of 
Jubilcmiis  ovmes  una,  one  of  the  sequences  to 
be  found  in  the  Latin  Gradual  belonging  to 
the  early  part  of  the  twelfth  century,  now 
in  the  British  Museum.  The  translator  was 
born  at  Padstow  in  Cornwall,  in  England, 
July  II,  1807.  He  graduated  at  Exeter  Col- 
lege, Oxford,  of  which  he  was  made  a  Fellow 
in  1828,  and  entered  the  ministry  of  the 
Church  of  England  in  1835,  becoming  the 
rector  of  Shillingstone,  near  Blandford,  Dor- 
set, in  1842.  In  1849  he  was  made  rural 
dean,  and  in  1862  became  one  of  the  preben- 
daries of  Salisbury  Cathedral.  He  died  at 
Shillingstone,  October  30,  1890. 


147 


Angels'   Worship. 


Stars  of  the  morning,  so  gloriously  bright, 
Filled  with  celestial  resplendence  and  light; 
These  that,  where  night  never  followeth  day, 
Raise  the  "  Thrice-holy  "  song  ever  and  aye  ! 

2  These  are  thy  counselors:  these  dost  thou  own, 
God  of  Sabaoth !  the  nearest  thy  throne ; 

These  are  thy  ministers  ;  these  dost  thou  send, 
Help  of  the  helpless  ones !  man  to  defend. 

3  When  by  thy  word  earth  was  first  poised  in  space; 
When  the  far  planets  first  sped  on  their  race ; 
When  was  completed  the  six  days'  employ. 

Then  "  all  the  sons  of  God  shouted  for  joy !" 

4  Still  let  them  succor  us;  still  let  them  fight. 
Lord  of  angelic  hosts,  battling  for  right ! 

Till,  where  their  anthems  they  ceaselessly  pour, 
We  with  the  angels  may  bow  and  adore  ! 

Another  of  Dr.  John  Mason  Neale's  trans- 
lations, included  in  his  Hymns  of  the  Eastern 
Church.  He  gives  to  it  a  name  that  is  pe- 
culiar to  the  mystic  mood  belonging  to  some 
of  the  zealous  preachers  of  Anglican  theol- 
ogfy  and  ecclesiology  in  our  modern  times : 
"  A  Cento  from  the  Canon  of  the  '  Bodiless 
Ones ';  Tuesday  in  the  Week  of  the  Fourth 
Tone."  It  is  a  rendering  from  one  of  the 
hymns  of  St.  Joseph  of  the  Studium,  and 
really  gives  us  a  fine  vision  of  the  spectacle  in 
heaven  when  the  "  Trisagion  "  is  sung  (Isaiah 
6:3);  it  represents  the  angels  in  the  act  of 
worshiping  the  grand  majesty  of  the  Triune 
God  in  the  throne. 

"  I  can  just  remember,"  said  a  theologian 
of  the  last  century,  "  that  when  the  women 
first  taught  me  to  say  my  prayers  to  God.  1 
used  to  have  an  idea  of  a  venerable  old  man, 


of  a  composed  and  benign  countenance,  with 
his  own  hair,  clad  in  a  morning-gown  of  a 
grave-colored  damask,  sitting  sedate  in  an 
elbow-chair."  Such  conceptions  are  interest- 
ing as  a  study ;  but  are  they  not  frequently 
absurd  as  an  experience  ?  Would  it  be  to 
edification  if  a  company  of  religious  people, 
in  our  modern  times,  were  to  compare  to- 
gether the  actual  sight  they  seem  to  see  when 
they  close  their  eyes  for  the  act  of  prayer? 
Scripture  pictures  of  the  Divine  Being,  which 
are  not  infrequent,  have  nothing  of  this  gross- 
ness.  There  is  an  unparalleled  dignity  and 
grace  in  every  attitude  and  gesture  when  the 
presence  of  Jehovah  is  seen. 

Hence  we  expect  a  vision  of  grandeur 
whenever  an  inspired  pen  is  painting  it. 
Take,  for  example,  that  given  by  the  evange- 
list John  in  the  Apocalypse — the  vision  he 
saw  in  the  Spirit  on  the  Lord's  day. 

"  And  I  turned  to  see  the  voice  that  spake 
with  me.  And  being  turned,  I  saw  seven 
golden  candlesticks,  and  in  the  midst  of  the 
seven  candlesticks  one  like  imto  the  Son  of 
Man,  clothed  with  a  garment  down  to  the 
foot,  and  girt  about  the  paps  with  a  golden 
girdle ;  his  head  and  his  hairs  were  white  like 
wool,  as  white  as  snow,  and  his  eyes  were  as 
a  flame  of  fire,  and  his  feet  like  unto  tine 
brass,  as  if  they  burned  in  a  furnace,  and  his 
voice  as  the  sound  of  many  waters ;  and  he 
had  in  his  right  hand  seven  stars ;  and  out  of 
his  mouth  went  a  sharp  two-edged  s  word ; 
and  his  countenance  was  as  the  sun  shineth 
in  his  strength." 

It  does  not  seem  as  if  there  could  be  any 
use  in  one's  trj-ing  to  understand  thoroughly 
such  a  spectacle  as  this  ;  its  vagueness  is  its 
glory.  It  is  easy  to  point  out  the  symbols 
found  in  the  description,  however.  "  Hairs 
white  like  wool  "  must  signify  venerableness ; 
"  eyes  of  a  flame  of  fire  "  must  mean  omnis- 
cience ;  the  "  two-edged  sword "  indicates 
justice ;  the  "  voice  as  the  sound  of  many 
waters  "  might  suggest  power  or  authority ; 
and  the  "  countenance  as  the  sun  shining  in 
his  strength  "  certainly  intimates  the  positive 
purity  of  holiness.  Still,  most  of  us  would 
disdain  this  form  of  rhetorical  exposition  ;  the 
scene  loses,  rather  than  gains,  by  such  an 
analysis  of  the  inspired  figures.  And,  on  the 
whole,  it  distracts  the  grand  swell  of  praise 
when  one  begins  to  demand  a  direct  picture 
of  God's  person  as  the  object  of  worship. 


1 48  Singing  to  God. 

Songs  of  praise  the  angels  sang, 
Heaven  with  hallelujahs  rang. 
When  Jehovah's  work  begun. 
When  he  spake,  and  it  was  done. 


7s.  D. 


GENERAL   PRAISE. 


71 


Songs  of  praise  awoke  the  morn 
When  the  Prince  of  Peace  was  born  ; 
Songs  of  praise  arose  when  lie 
Captive  led  captivity. 

2  Heaven  and  earth  must  pass  away — 
Songs  of  praise  shall  crown  that  d;iv  ; 
God  will  make  new  heavens  and  earth — 
Songs  of  praise  shall  hail  their  birth. 
And  shall  man  alone  be  dumb 

Till  that  glorious  kingdom  come? 
No  ;  the  Church  delights  to  raise 
Psalms  and  hymns  and  songs  of  praise. 

3  Saints  below,  with  heart  and  voice. 
Still  in  songs  of  praise  rejoice, 
Learning  here  by  faith  and  love 
Songs  of  praise  to  sing  above. 
Borne  upon  their  latest  breath 
Songs  of  praise  shall  conquer  death  ; 
Then,  amid  eternal  joy, 

Songs  of  praise  their  powers  employ. 

In  James  Montgomery's  Original  Hymns 
this  piece  appears  with  six  stanzas.  It  is  en- 
litled  "  Gloiy  to  God  in  the  Highest,"  and 
has  for  a  text  Luke  2:13,  In  one  of  the 
meetings  held  in  the  city  of  New  York,  during 
what  is  termed  the  Week  of  Prayer,  it  was 
announced  that  a  particular  speaker  of  much 
reputation  was  expected  to  make  an  address 
upon  a  theme  not  usually  chosen.  Curiosity 
was  at  its  supreme  height  in  the  churches. 
Conjectures  were  hazarded  as  to  what  he  was 
likely  just  now  to  say.  He  would  encourage 
Christians  to  redoubled  devotion.  He  would 
denounce  public  and  conspicuous  sin.  He 
would  stir  men's  moral  courage,  or  sting  their 
consciences  with  rebuke.  He  would  unspar- 
ingly show  up  the  formality  of  the  usual 
religious  services  in  the  town,  and  expose  the 
hypocrisies  of  the  preachers  with  a  dreadful 
threatening  of  divine  wrath.  At  any  rate  he 
would  be  worth  hearing  on  the  occasion.  But 
when  the  great  man  took  the  platform,  his 
opening  words  were  only  these,  calmly  and 
gently  uttered,  as  if  a  brother  or  a  comrade 
would  remind  us  of  a  familiar  fact.  "  I  sup- 
pose," said  he, "  that  for  one  real  Christian  who 
fails  in  prayer,  there  are  four  Christians  who 
fail  in  praise."  That  was  all  :  then  he  went 
on  to  remark  that  he  had  been  informed  by 
an  active  pastor  in  one  of  the  larger  congrega- 
tions that  he  had  been  requested  to  offer  a 
prayer  for  persons  going  to  sea,  for  the  home 
ones  dangerously  sick,  for  those  perplexed  in 
mind,  body,  or  estate,  fifty  times  for  once 
that  ever  he  had  been  asked  to  give  thanks  for 
a  recovery  from  illness,  for  a  safe  voyage,  for 
even  the  conversion  of  a  beloved  friend  unto 
God.  It  is  likely  that  the  intimations  given 
by  the  speaker  were  true  then,  and  on  inquiry 
it  is  likely  they  would  be  found  to  be  true 
now.  We  forget  what  is  doing  for  us  every 
hour  of  every  day  of  our  lives.  "  And  shall 
man  alone  be  dumb  ?" 


1 49  "  Te  Deutn."  7s,  D. 
God  eternal,  Lord  of  all ! 

Lowly  at  thy  feet  we  tall ; 

All  the  world  doth  worship  thee : 

We  amidst  the  throng  would  be. 

All  the  holy  angels  cry, 

Hail,  thrice-holy,  God  most  high  I 

Lord  of  all  the  heavenly  powers, 

Be  the  same  loud  anthem  ours. 

2  Glorified  apostles  raise, 
Night  and  day,  continual  praise ; 
Hast  thou  not  a  mission  too 
For  thy  children  here  to  do? 
With  the  prophet's  goodly  line 
We  in  mystic  bond  combine  ; 
For  thou  hast  to  babes  revealed 
Things  that  to  the  wise  were  sealed. 

3  Martyrs,  in  a  noble  host, 

Of  thy  cross  are  heard  to  boast ; 
Since  so  bright  the  crown  they  wear, 
We  with  them  thy  cross  would  bear. 
All  thy  church,  in  heaven  and  earth, 
Jesus  !  hail  thy  spotless  birth  ; 
Seated  on  the  juds;ment-throne, 
Number  us  among  thine  own  ! 

This  is  an  excellent  translation  of  the  an- 
cient Te  Detmi.  It  was  first  published  in  the 
Devout  Chorister,  1 848,  for  which  it  was  writ- 
ten. It  there  appears  with  eight  four-line 
stanzas,  and  is  there  entitled  "  Hymn  for 
Choristers."  The  author.  Rev.  James  Elwin 
Millard,  D.  D.,  was  born  May  18,  1823.  He 
became  a  graduate  of  Magdalen  College, 
1845,  and  a  Fellow  of  the  same  in  1853.  He 
entered  the  ministry  of  the  Church  of  England 
at  once,  accepting  the  curacy  of  a  congrega- 
tion in  Bradfield,  Berks.  Subsequently  he 
for  a  while  acted  as  Head  Master  of  Magda- 
len College  School,  but  in  1864  became  the 
vicar  of  Basingstoke  in  Hampshire. 

150  "  In  Excelsis."  7S,  D. 
Glory  be  to  God  on  high, — 

God,  whose  glory  fills  the  sky  ; 
Peace  on  earth  to  man  forgiven, 
Man,  the  well  beloved  of  heaven. 
Sovereign  Father,  Heavenly  King  ! 
Thee  we  now  presume  to  sing ; 
Glad  thine  attributes  confess, 
Glorioles  all  and  numberless. 

2  Hail,  by  all  thy  works  adored ! 
Hail,  the  everlasting  Lord  ! 

Thee  with  thankful  hearts  we  prove — 
God  of  power,  and  God  of  Love  ! 
Christ  our  Lord  and  God  we  own — 
Christ  the  Father's  only  Son  ; 
Lamb  of  God  for  sinners  slain, 
Saviour  of  offending  man. 

3  Jesus !  in  thy  name  we  pray, 
Take,  oh,  take  our  sins  away  : 
Powerful  Advocate  with  God  ! 
Justify  us  by  thy  blood. 

Hear,  for  thou,  O  Christ,  alone, 
Art  with  thy  great  Father  one  ; 
One  the  Holy  Ghost  with  thee — 
One  supreme  eternal  Three. 

Almost  everybody  who  has  made  hymns  of 
his  own  has,  early  or  late  in  his  career,  tried 
his  hand  in  translating  the  Gloria  in  Excelsis 
into  meter.     This  is  Charles  Wesley's  excel- 


72 


GENERAL   PRAISE. 


lent  version ;  he  published  it  in  his  own  Hymns 
for  the  Nativity,  and  John  Wesley  likewise 
printed  it  in  his  Select  Hymns  with  Tunes  An- 
next.  It  is  rather  a  paraphrase  than  a  render- 
ing ;  indeed,  it  is  simply  entitled  "  Glory  to 
God,"  and  has  annexed  to  it  the  Scriptural 
reference,  Luke  2:14:  "  Glory  to  God  in  the 
highest,  and  on  earth  peace,  good-will  toward 
men." 

1 5  I  The  Light  of  the  Lord.  lis,  los. 

Now,  when  the  dusky  sliades  of  night  retreating 

Bf  tore  the  sun's  red  banner  swiftly  flee  ; 
Now,  when  the  terrors  ol  the  dark  are  fleeting, 

O  Lord,  we  lift  our  thankful  hearts  to  thee  :  — 

2  To  the',  wliose  word,  the  fount  of  life  unsealing, 
When  hill  and  dale  in  thickest  darkness  lay, 

Awoke  bright  rays  across  the  dim  eartli  stealing. 
And  bade  the  eve  and  morn  complete  the  day. 

3  Look  from  the  height  of  heaven,  and  send  to  cheer 

us 
Thy  light  and  truth,  and  guide  us  onward  still ; 
Still  let  thy  mercy,  as  of  old,  be  near  us. 
And  lead  us  safely  to  thy  holy  hill. 

4  So  when  that  morn  of  endless  light  is  waking. 
And  shades  of  evil  from  its  splendors  flee, 

Safs  may  we  rise,  this  earth's  dark  vale  forsaking. 
Through  all  the  long  bright  day  to  dwell  with  thee. 

5  Be  this  by  thee,  O  God  thrice  holy,  granted, 
O  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  ever  blest; 

Whose  glory  by  the  heaven  and  earth  is  chanted, 
Whose  name  by  men  and  angels  is  confist. 

It  is  not  known  who  wrote  or  compiled  this 
cento,  the  e.Kcellent  poetry  of  which  deserves 
the  favor  of  a  meritorious  name.  It  appeared 
in  this  country  earliest  in  the  hymnal  issued 
by  Dr.  Hedge  and  Dr.  Huntington,  Hymns 
for  the  Church  of  Christ,  Boston,'  1853.  Some 
effort  has  of  late  been  made  to  connect  its  au- 
thorship with  a  translation  published  in  1848 
by  W.  J.  Copeland  in  Hymns  for  the  Week. 
But  that  piece  is  not  like  this.  '  It  begins  and 
continues  entirely  distinct.  The  first  line 
reads  thus  •.  "  Lo,  now  the  melting  shades  of 
night  are  ending ;"  and  it  claims  to  be  a  ren- 
dering of  Gregory's  ancient  Latin  hymn : 
Ecce  Jam  noctis  tenuatur  uiitbra.  The  re- 
semblance is  very  remote. 

I  52  "  Praise  Jehovah  ''  iis,  ids. 

Praise  ye  Jehovah  !  praise  the  Lord  most  holy. 
Who  cheers  the  contrite,  girds  with  strength  the 
weak  ; 

Praise  him  who  will  with  glory  crown  the  lowly. 
And  with  salvation  beautify  the  meek. 

2  Praise  ye  Jehovah  !  for  his  loving-kindness 
And  all  the  tender  mercy  he  halh  shown ; 

Praise  him  who  pardons  all  our  sin  and  blindness, 
And  calls  us  sons  and  takes  us  for  his  own. 

3  Praise  ye  Jehovah  !  source  of  all  our  blessings  ; 
Before  his  gifts  sarth's  richest  boons  wax  dim; 

Resting  in  him,  his  peace  and  jov  possessing. 
All  things  are  ours,  for  we  have  all  in  him. 

4  Praise  ye  the  Father  !   God  the  Lord,  who  gave  us, 
With  full  and  perfect  love,  his  only  Son  ; 

Praise  ye  the  Son  !  who  died  himself  to  save  us  ; 
Praise  ye  the  Spirit  I  praise  the  Three  in  One! 


This  hymn,  which  claims  to  be  a  version  of 
Psalm  149,  IS  found  in  a  lithograph  volume  of 
the  author's  verses  printed  from  the  manu- 
script and  issued  without  date  for  private 
circulation,  by  Margaret,  Lady  Cockburn- 
Campbell.  She  was  the  eldest  daughter  of 
Sir  John  Malcolm,  a  general  in  the  British 
army.  She  was  married  on  June  20,  1827,  to 
Sir  Alexander  Thomas  Cockburn-Campbell,  a 
resident  magistrate  at  Albany,  in  West  Aus- 
tralia. He  died  at  Alphington,  near  Exeter, 
England,  February  6,  1841.  Her  husband 
was  one  of  the  founders  of  the  Plymouth 
Brethren,  and  in  the  Psalms  and  Hymns  of 
that  body  her  pieces  became  known. 

153  -'/Am."  P.M. 

Thk  God  of  Abraham  praise. 

Who  reigns  eiilhron  d  above. 
Ancient  of  everlasting  days, 

And  God  oi  love  ! 
Jehovah  !  great  I  AM  ! 

By  earth  and  heaven  confessed  ; 

1  bow  and  bless  the  sacred  name, 
For  ever  blest ! 

2  The  God  of  Abraham  praise  ! 
At  whose  supreme  coniniaiid 

From  earth  I  rise,  and  seek  the  joys 

At  his  right  hand  ; 
I  all  on  earth  forsake, 

Its  wisdom,  fame,  and  power. 
And  him  my  only  portion  make, 

My  shield  and  tower. 

3  The  God  of  Abraham  praise  ! 
Whose  all-sufficient  grace 

Shall  guide  me  all  my  happy  days 

In  all  my  ways  : 
He  calls  a  worm  his  friend  ! 

He  calls  himself  my  Cio'i  ! 
And  he  shall  save  me  to  the  end 

Through  Jesus'  blood! 

This  hymn  was  written  by  Rev.  Thomas 
Olivers,  an  itinerant  Methodist  clergyman, 
closely  associated  with  the  Wesleys  in  his 
work  and  aims.  Without  doubt  he  was  an 
enthusiast  and  a  dreamer,  for  he  used  to 
claim  that  with  "  the  eye  of  his  mind  "  he  had 
visions  of  our  Lord  on  several  occasions.  He 
was  born  at  Tregynon,  Montgomeryshire,  in 
1725.  But  his  father  died  when  he  was  only 
four  years  old,  and  his  mother  followed  soon 
after.  The  boy  was  passed  on  around  from 
one  to  another,  and  grew  up  uneducated  and 
godless.  His  temper  was  bad  and  his  life 
was  vicious.  Apprenticed  to  a  shoemaker,  he 
formed  and  kept  low  associations,  and  melan- 
choly prophecies  were  made  for  his  future. 
But  George  Whitefield  preached  a  sermon 
which  went  into  history;  the  text  was,  "Is 
not  this  a  brand  plucked  out  of  the  lire.''" 
That  cobbler's  boy  was  at  Bristol  at  the  time, 
and  he  heard  the  voice  from  heaven,  and  was 
among  the  thousands  converted  by  it.  The 
change  was  radical  and  permanent ;  there 
was  never  any  doubt  about  Thomas  Olivers 


GENERAL    PRAISE. 


73 


after  that.  He  told  everybody  that  the  rest  of 
his  years  were  going  to  be  devoted  to  "  get- 
ting and  doing  good."  He  had  poverty  and 
worry ;  even  persecutions  came  upon  him  for 
his  zeal.  But  he  preached  right  along,  coura- 
geously and  patiently,  till  he  died  in  London, 
March,  1799. 

He  wrote  otlier  hymns ;  but  this  one  in 
particular  has  a  famous  history.  It  has  al- 
ways been  too  long  for  the  collections ;  only 
three  or  four  out  of  twelve  verses  can  be 
advantageously  introduced  in  a  compilation 
for  church  service.  The  poem  is  a  free  ren- 
dering of  the  Hebrew  Yigdal  or  Doxology, 
with  what  the  Methodist  preacher  called  "  a 
Christian  character  "  given  to  it  in  the  transla- 
tion. In  this  song  of  worship  the  entire  creed 
of  thirteen  articles,  as  the  Jews  hold  it  for 
their  doctrine,  is  rehearsed  in  metrical  form. 
It  is  claimed  that  it  was  composed  a  thousand 
years  ago  by  Daniel  ben  Judah  ;  but  the  exact 
date  of  his  birth  or  death  is  not  known.  And 
the  tune  "  Leoni  "  to  which  it  is  set,  and  to 
which  it  is  sung  every  Friday  night  in  the 
synagogues  over  the  world,  is  equally  famous. 
It  was  arranged  for  Olivers  for  his  version  of 
the  Yigdal,  by  Meyer  Lyon,  chorister  of  the 
Great  Synagogue  in  London  at  that  date  ;  so 
in  recognition  of  his  courtesy  it  has  borne  his 
name. 


I  54  Universal  Adoration.  P.  M. 

Angels  holy,  high  and  lowly. 

Sing  the  praises  of  the  Lord  I 
Earth  and  sky,  all  living  nature, 
Man,  the  stamp  of  thy  Creator, 

Praise  ye,  praise  ye  God  the  Lord  I 

2  Sun  and  moon,  bright  night  and  moonlight: 
Starry  temples,  azure-floored  ; 

Cloud  and  rain,  and  wild  wind's  madness, 
Sons  of  God  that  shout  for  gladness, 
Praise  ye,  praise  ye  God  the  Lord  ! 

3  Ocean  hoary,  tell  his  glory. 
Cliffs,  where  tumbling  seas  have  roared  ! 

Pulse  of  waters,  blithely  beating, 
Wave  advancing,  wave  retreating. 
Praise  ye,  praise  ye  God  the  Lord  ! 

4  Rock  and  high  land,  wood  and  island. 
Crag,  where  eagle's  pride  hath  soaretl ; 

Mighty  mountains,  purple-bre:isted, 
Peaks,  cloud-cleaving,   snowy-crested, 
Praise  ye,  praise  ye  God  the  Lord  I 

5  Rolling  river,  praise  him  ever, 
From  the  mountains'  deep  vein  poured  ; 

Silver  fountain,  clearly  gushing, 
Troubled  torrent,  wildly  rushing. 
Praise  ye,  praise  ye  God  the  Lord  ! 

6  Praise  him  ever,  bounteous  Giver; 
Praise  him.  Father,  Friend,  and  Lord  I 

Each  glad  soul  its  free  course  winging. 
Each  glad  voice  its  free  song  singing, 
Praise  the  great  and  mighty  Lord  !  i  55 

From  one  of  the  morning  papers  of  to-day 
(1892)  we  clip  the  brief  sentence  which  shows 
the  affectionate  appreciation  in  which  the 
author  of  this  hymn  is  held  over  on  our  side 


of  the  sea ;  "  Hale  and  hearty  old  Professor 
Blackie,  now  eighty-two  years  old,  gives  lec- 
tures in  England  on  Scotch  songs,  with  speci- 
mens of  Scottish  minstrelsy  given  by  accom- 
plished assistants." 

John  Stuart  Blackie,  LL.  D.,  Professor  of 
Greek  in  the  University  of  Edinburgh,  is  a 
rugged  and  independent  Scotchman,  of  cul- 
tured mind  and  genial  soul,  a  banker's  son,  a 
lawyer  by  profession.  He  was  born  in  Glas- 
gow, July  28,  1809.  After  graduating  at 
Marischal  College  in  Aberdeen,  and  also  pur- 
suing his  studies  extensively  in  the  University 
of  Edinburgh,  he  was  called  to  the  Scottish 
bar  in  1834.  But  in  1841  his  alma  mater  ia 
Aberdeen  elected  him  the  Professor  of  Lat- 
in Literature,  and  subsequently  he  became 
Professor  of  Greek  in  Edmburgh  University, 
1850.  He  has  been  widely  known  in  almost 
every  field  of  literature,  poetry  and  prose,  and 
noted  for  his  force  and  brilliancy  of  thought. 
He  translated  Goethe's  Faust  from  the  Ger- 
man, and  ^schylus  from  the  Greek,  and 
gave  works  to  the  world  on  aesthetics  and 
mythology  with  equal  success.  And  now  he 
is  publicly  lecturing  on  all  sorts  of  themes  in. 
his  old  age  with  a  versatility  and  strength  of 
persistence  which  are  wonderful.  The  hymn 
now  before  us  was  published  in  a  book  of  his 
called  Lays  and  Legends  of  Ancient  Greece^ 
with  other  Poems,  1857;  it  there  bears  the 
title  Benedicite,  the  name  of  the  Latin  canti- 
cle of  which  it  is  at  least  a  paraphrase. 

The  spirit  and  temper  of  this  happy-hearted 
man  are  best  seen  in  the  portrait  he  once  drew 
of  himself :  "  I  am  rather  a  young  old  boy, 
and  I  am  one  of  the  happiest  creatures  under 
the  sun  at  this  moment ;  and  my  amusement 
is  to  sing  songs.  In  railway  coaches  and 
other  places  I  see  a  number  smoking  what 
they  call  tobacco.  Well,  whatever  may  be 
said  about  that,  it  is  not  an  intellectual  or  a 
moral  stimulant,  and  the  flavor  of  it  is  not  at 
all  like  the  rose  or  any  poetic  thing  I  know. 
It  is  essentially  a  vulgar  amusement.  My 
amusement  is  to  sing  songs.  At  home  I  am 
always  singing  Scotch  songs;  and  abroad, 
when  those  wretches  are  smoking,  I  hum  to 
myself,  '  Scots  wha  hae,'  or  '  A  man  's  a  man 
for  a'  that,'  and  songs  of  that  kind.  I  advise 
you  to  do  the  same.  Your  soul  will  become 
a  singing-bird,  and  then  the  devil  wont  get 
near  it." 


"  Lord  of  Might." 

Angel  voices,  ever  sinking 
Round  thy  throne  of  light— 

Angel  harps  for  ever  ringing. 
Rest  not  day  nor  night ; 

Thousands  oiily  live  to  bless  thee, 
And  confess  thee.  Lord  of  might ! 


P.M. 


74 


GENERAL    PRAISE. 


a  Thou  wlio  art  beyond  the  farthest 

Morial  eye  can  scan, 
Can  It  be  that  thou  rcgardest 

Songs  of  sinful  man? 
Can  we  feel  that  thou  art  near  us, 

And  wilt  hear  us?     Yea,  we  can  ! 

3  Here,  great  God,  to-day  we  offer 
Of  thine  own  to  thee  ; 

And  for  thine  acceptance  proffer. 

All  unworthily. 
Hearts  and  minds,  and  hands  and  voices. 

In  our  choicest  melody. 

4  Honor,  glory,  might,  and  merit 
Thine  shall  ever  be. 

Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Spirit, 

Blessed  Trinity  ! 
Of  the  best  that  thou  hast  given. 

Earth  and  heaven  render  thee ! 

The  well-known  hymn  ouoted  above  is  from 
the  collection  entitled  Hyimts  Fiiicd  to  the 
Order  of  Common  Prayer,  which  was  pub- 
lished in  1 866.  The  author,  Rev.  Francis 
Pott,  is  a  clergyman  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land, at  present  the  incumbent  of  Norhill, 
Biggleswade,  Bedfordshire.  He  was  bom 
December  29,  1832,  and  was  graduated  from 
Brasenose  College  in  1854,  and  took  his  Mas- 
ter's degree  1857.  His  ministry  was  begun 
as  a  curate  in  Bishopsworth,  Bristol ;  after- 
wards he  ofriciated  in  1858  at  Ardingley, 
Sussex. 

1 56  Divine  Presence.  P.  M. 

God  reveals  his. presence; 

Let  us  now  adore  him. 
And  with  awe  appear  before  him. 

God  is  in  his  temple  ; 

All  within  keep  silence, 
Prostrate  lie  with  deepest  reverence. 
Him  alone    God  we  own, 

Him  our  God  and  Saviour  : 

Praise  his  name  for  ever. 

2  God  reveals  his  presence ; 
Hear  the  harps  resounding. 

See  the  crowds  the  throne  surrounding: 

"  Holy,  holy,  holy," 

Hear  the  hymn  ascending — 
Angels,  saints,  their  voiies  blending — 
Bow  thine  ear    To  us  here  ; 

Hearken,  O  Lord  Jesus, 

To  our  meaner  praises. 

3  O  thou  Fount  of  blessing. 
Purify  our  spirit. 

Trusting  only  intl.y  merit : 

Like  the  holy  angels 

Who  behold  thy  glorj-. 
May  we  ceaselessly  adore  thee  : 
Let  thy  will     Ever  still 

Rule  thy  church  terrestrial, 

As  the  hosts  celestial. 

4  Jesus,  condescending 
To  the  meek  and  lowly 

From  thy  heaven  high  and  holy. 

Make  us  now  thy  temple; 

Waft  us  then  to  regions 
Filled  with  bright  seraphic  legions ; 
May  this  hope     Bear  us  up. 

Till  these  eyes  for  ever 

Gaze  on  thee,  our  Saviour. 

The  author  of  this  version  of  one  of  the 
compositions  of  Gerhard  Tersteegen  is  per- 


haps best  known  to  us  as  a  translator.  The 
Rev.  William  Mercer  was  born  at  Barnard 
Castle,  County  of  Durham,  England,  about 
the  year  1811.  He  was  graduated  at  Trinity 
College,  Cambridge,  in  1835,  and  entered  the 
ministry  of  the  Church  of  England  the  next 
year.  In  1839  he  was  made  the  rector  of 
Trinity  Church,  Habergham  Eaves,  Lanca- 
shire. In  1840  he  was  called  to  the  curacy 
of  the  larger  church  in  Burnley,  two  miles 
away  from  his  present  charge.  He  labored 
there  for  a  year,  became  the  perpetual  curate 
of  St.  George's  Church  in  Sheffield ;  there  he 
spent  the  remainder  of  his  life.  He  died  Au- 
gust 21,  1873,  ^t  Leavy  Creave.  The  hymn- 
book  called  familiarly,  Mercer's  Collection,  had 
for  its  real  title,  "the  Church  Psalter  and 
Hymn-Book,  1854.  It  was  very  popular  as  a 
manual  of  worship,  being  used  in  fifty-three 
London  churches  at  one  time,  and  in  1864 
selling  upwards  of  one  hundred  thousand 
copies  a  year.  In  the  preparation  of  this  vol- 
ume the  compiler  was  assisted  by  James 
Montgomery,  who  was  responsible,  no  doubt, 
according  to  his  well-known  views  as  to  alter- 
ations, for  many  of  the  changes  which  were 
made  in  other  people's  compositions. 

i  57  Psalm  147.  C.  M.  D. 

With  songs  and  honors  sounding  loud, 

Address  the  Lord  on  high  ; 
Over  the  heavens  he  spreads  his  cloud, 

And  waters  vail  the  sky. 
He  sends  his  showers  of  blessings  down, 

To  cheer  the  plains  below  ; 
He  makes  the  grass  the  mountains  crown, 

And  corn  in  valleys  grow. 

2  His  steady  counsels  change  the  face 
Of  the  declining  year  ; 

He  bids  the  sun  cut  short  his  race. 

And  wintry  days  appear. 
His  hoary  frost,  his  fleecy  snow. 

Descend  and  clothe  the  ground  ; 
The  liquid  streams  forbear  to  flow, 

In  icy  fetters  bound. 

3  He  sends  his  word  and  melts  the  snow, 
The  fields  no  longer  mourn  ; 

He  calls  the  warmer  gales  to  blow 

And  bids  the  spring  return. 
The  changing  wind,  the  flying  cloud. 

Obey  his  mighty  word : 
With  songs  and  honors  sounding  loud, 

Praise  ye  the  sovereign  Lord. 

This  is  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  version  of  Psalm 
147,  C.  M.  It  consists  altogether  of  eight 
stanzas,  and  is  entitled,  "  The  Seasons  of  the 
Year."  It  is  one  of  the  very  few  fitting  pieces 
which  we  have  for  use  when  the  spring  turns 
in  from  the  winter,  or  the  autumn  drops  down 
into  the  experience  of  ice  and  snow.  It  can 
be  made  the  theme  of  profitable  comment  as 
illustrating  the  revelation  of  many  divine  at- 
tributes. 

W^e  judge  of  an  artist's  taste,  his  intelli- 


GENERAL   PRAISE. 


75 


gence,  his  character,  by  just  the  paintings 
which  come  forth  from  his  pencil.  Why  not 
learn  our  Creator's  finest  attributes  from  the 
forms  of  wonderful  beauty  we  see  in  creation  ? 
And  if  we  put  nature  and  the  Word  together, 
they  will  teach  us  much.  Snowflakes  have 
been  caught  at  the  moment  of  falling ;  and 
while  they  glistened  in  unbroken  beauty  upon 
a  surface  of  black  velvet,  the  scientists  have 
classified  the  shapes  of  the  crystals.  Ninety- 
three  exquisite  forms  of  star  and  cross  and 
crown,  and  what  not  else,  they  have  put  on 
the  catalogue  already.  There  never  was  a 
mechanician  with  so  excellent  an  eyeglass,  or 
so  steady  a  nerve,  that  he  could  cut  a  pattern 
which  would  not  be  rude  in  outline  and  rough 
in  surface  beside  one  of  these.  And  then 
especially  the  cleanliness  of  a  field  thus  newly 
covered  is  a  display  of  spotless  purity  inimita- 
ble and  unmistakable.  All  these  white  blos- 
soms of  winter  falling  around  us,  like  fruitful 
petals  from  a  tree  of  life,  or  like  feathers  from 
the  wing  of  almighty  protection :  all  this  ex- 
quisite frost-work  on  the  window;  all  these 
lodged  rainbows  in  the  icicles  and  these  jew- 
els in  the  silvery  drapery  along  the  eaves  ;  all 
this  pluming  of  the  gate-posts,  like  the  hel- 
mets of  hussars ;  all  this  crowning  of  the 
mountains  and  this  fringing  of  the  streams  ;  all 
this  is  just  the  clear  presenting  to  us  of  God  in 
his  works,  the  imaging  forth  of  his  character. 

I  58  Psalm  139.  C.  M.  D. 

Jrhovah  God  !  thy  gracious  power 

On  every  hand  we  see  ; 
Oh,  may  the  blessings  of  each  hour 

Lead  all  our  thoughts  to  thee. 
Thy  power  is  in  the  ocean  deeps, 

And  reaches  to  the  skies  : 
Thine  eye  of  mercy  never  sleeps, 

Thy  goodness  never  dies. 

2  From  morn  till  noon,  till  latest  eve, 

The  hand  of  God  we  see ; 
And  all  the  blessings  we  receive, 

Ceaseless  proceed  from  thee. 
In  all  the  varying  scenes  of  time 

On  thee  our  hopes  depend, 
In  every  age,  in  every  clime, 

Our  Father  and  our  Friend. 

This  hymn,  which  manifests  the  author's 
spirit  of  devotion  and  the  sense  of  God's  power 
in  nature,  was  written  by  the  Rev.  John  Thom- 
son, and  first  appeared  in  18 10,  in  Aspland's 
Collection. 

Mr.  Thomson  was  a  Unitarian  minister,  but 
afterwards  he  became  a  physician.  A  treat- 
ise written  by  him  in  1809  proves  him  to  be 
a  man  of  decided  opinions,  which  he  had  no 
hesitancy  in  expressing  in  a  day  when  they 
were  most  needed.  He  was  born  in  1783, 
and  received  his  education  at  Manchester,  in 
England;  and  w-hen  he  died,  in  181 8,  his 
death  was  felt  by  many  who  had  been  helped 


by  the  life  of  a  man  who  saw  his  Creator  in 
all  his  works. 

I  59  Alpha  and  Omega.  C.  M.  D. 

To  H;M  that  loved  the  souls  of  men, 

And  washed  us  in  his  blood, 
To  royal  honors  raise. I  our  head, 

And  made  us  priests  to  God — 
To  him  let  every  tongue  be  praise, 

And  every  heart  be  love, 
All  gratetnl  honors  paid  on  earth. 

And  nobler  songs  above. 

2  Behold,  on  flying  clouds  he  comes! 

His  saints  shall  bless  the  day  ; 
While  they  that  pierced  him  sadly  mourn 

In  anguish  and  dismay. 
Thou  art  the  First,  and  thou  the  Last ; 

Time  centers  all  in  thee, 
The  Almighty  God,  who  was,  and  is. 

And  evermore  shall  be. 

To  give  the  credit  of  this  piece  entirely  to 
Dr.  Isaac  Watts  would  be  manifestly  unfair, 
since  really  one  line  only  can  be  traced  to  his 
authorship ;  that  is,  "  Behold,  on  flying  clouds 
he  comes !"  This  appears  in  the  familiar 
hymn  commencing,  "  Now  to  the  Lord  that 
makes  us  know."  In  1775  the  Scotch  Gen- 
eral Assembly  commissioned  one  William 
Cameron,  among  others,  to  revise  a  collection 
of  hymns,  which  had  been,  in  1745,  appended 
without  authority  to  the  Psalter  in  use  in  the 
Established  Church.  It  is  altogether  proba- 
ble that  this  hymn  was  revised  and  added  to 
by  Cameron,  but  as  his  authorship  of  it  is  un- 
certain, it  is  well  to  give  Dr.  Watts  the  bene- 
fit of  the  doubt. 

Rev.  William  Cameron  was  born  in  175 1, 
at  or  near  Pananich,  a  hamlet  near  Ballater, 
Aberdeenshire.  He  studied  at  the  University 
of  Aberdeen  (Marischal  College),  from  which 
he  was  graduated  in  1770,  with  the  degree  of 
M.  A.  He  became  the  parish  minister  of 
Kirknewton,  Midlothian,  Scotland,  in  1786, 
where  he  died,  November  17,  181 1.  He  was 
the  author  of  many  original  hymns,  but  he 
translated  and  paraphrased  more. 

I60  "  Ten  Thousand  Blessings."  8s,  7S. 

Praise  to  thee,  thou  great  Creator ! 
Praise  to  thee  from  every  tongue  ; 
Join,  my  soul,  with  every  creature, 
Join  the  universal  song. 

2  Father!  source  of  all  compassion  ! 
Pure,  unbounded  grace  is  thine: 

Hail  the  God  of  our  salvation, 
Praise  him  for  his  love  divine  ! 

3  For  ten  thousand  blessings  given, 
For  the  hope  of  future  joy, 

Sound  his  praise  through  earth  and  heaven, 
Sound  Jehovah's  praise  on  high  ! 

4  Praise  to  God,  the  great  Creator, 
Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost ; 

Praise  him,  every  living'creature, 
Earth  and  heaven's  united  host. 

5  Joyfully  on  earth  adore  him, 
Till  in  heaven  our  song  we  raise; 

Then  enraptured  fall  before  him, 
Lost  in  wonder,  love,  and  praise  I 


76 


GENERAL   PRAISE. 


RFV.   JOHN    FAWCETT,  D.  D. 

Rev.  John  Fawcett,  D.  D.,  the  author  of  this 
hymn,  was  born  at  Liclget  Green,  near  Brad- 
ford, Yorkshire,  in  England.  The  date  of  his 
birth  is  confused  in  the  published  reckoning, 
the  change  from  Old  Style  becoming  apparent 
more  conspicuously  because  of  the  closeness 
to  the  beginning  of  the  year.  It  is  commonly 
given  as  January  6,  1739;  but  that  is  what 
we  should  now  consider  as  January  17.  His 
mother  became  a  widow  when  this  child  was 
eleven  years  of  age  ;  by  the  death  of  his  father 
the  family  of  children  fell  heavily  upon  her  care. 
The  lad  in  his  thirteenth  year  was  appren- 
ticed to  a  trader ;  he  was  converted  by  a  ser- 
mon of  Whitefield  preached  from  the  text 
John  3:14.  He  saw  Christ,  as  the  bitten 
Israelite  saw  the  brazen  serpent  of  Moses, 
and  turned  his  entire  life  upon  the  look  of 
faith  he  gave  him.  Speaking  of  this  incident 
many  years  afterward,  he  wrote  :  "As  long  as 
life  remains  I  shall  remember  both  the  text 
and  the  sermon."  For  a  while  he  attended 
service  in  the  Church  of  England,  but  in  1758 
he  joined  the  company  which  organized  the 
Baptist  congregation  in  Bradford.  Thence- 
forward he  was  identified  with  the  history  of 
that  denomination  of  Christians  in  Great 
Britain,  and  his  name  is  honored  now  most 
highly  as  that  of  an  earnest  and  faithful  work- 
er, and  as  the  author  of  many  of  their  best 
hymns.     He  died  July  25,  1817. 

1 6 1  IVisdom  and  Love.  8s,  7s. 

God  is  love  ;  his  mercy  briglitens 

All  the  i>ath  in  which  we  rove, 
Bliss  he  wakes  and  woe  he  lightens ; 
God  is  wisdom,  God  is  love. 


2  Chance  and  change  are  busy  ever 
Man  decays,  and  ages  move ; 

But  his  mercy  wanetli  never ; 
God  is  wisdom,  God  is  love. 

3  Ev'n  the  hour  that  darkest  seemeth 
Will  his  changeless  goodness  prove  ; 

From  the  gloom  his  brightness  streameth  ; 
God  is  wisdom,  God  is  love. 

4  He  with  earthly  cares  entwineth 
Hope  and  comfort  from  above ; 

Everywhere  his  glory  shineth  ; 
God  is  wisdom,  God  is  love. 

Sir  John  Bowring,  LL.  D.,  was  born  in  Exe- 
ter, England,  October  17,  1792.  His  educa- 
tion seems  to  have  been  confined  to  the  ordi- 
nary course  of  the  grammar  school  of  More- 
ton  ;  and  then  he  was  set  by  his  father  at 
work  in  his  own  trade,  manufacturing  wool- 
len cloths  for  the  market  in  China  and  the 
Spanish  peninsula.  The  lad  had  a  strong 
liking  for  the  study  of  languages,  and  soon 
mastered  at  least  five  of  those  with  which  his 
business  associations  brought  him  more  or 
less  into  contact.  This  was  done  before  he 
reached  his  sixteenth  year.  The  mercantile 
life,  however,  yielded  to  the  literary,  and  he 
became  a  writer  of  no  mean  ability,  especially 
upon  political  subjects.  So  he  was  brought 
forward  into  a  public  position,  and  entered 
Parliament  while  still  a  young  man.  During 
this  long  career  he  continued  writing,  and  at 
the  same  time  occupied  several  prominent 
official  positions,  and  in  1854  he  was  knighted 
by  the  queen.  In  1828  he  received  from  the 
University  of  Groningen  the  degree  of  LL.  D. 
As  a  religious  man  he  has  always  been  reck- 
oned among  the  Unitarians ;  but  his  faith 
was  sincere  and  his  life  was  evangelical.  He 
was  a  most  indefatigable  worker  and  a  great- 
ly useful  man.  He  gave  aid  to  Prison  Re- 
form. He  helped  distribute  the  Bible.  He 
was  on  the  side  of  everything  good  and  true. 
He  rested  for  his  salvation  upon  an  atonement 
wrought  out  by  the  infinite  Son  of  God.  He 
died  November  23,  1872,  and  on  his  tomb- 
stone is  engraved  the  first  line  of  the  hymn  by 
which  it  is  likely  he  is  most  widely  known, 
"  In  the  Cross  o'f  Christ  I  Glory."  The  pres- 
ent hymn  was  published  in  an  almost  forgot- 
ten volume,  Hymns  by  John  Bmvring,  1825. 
This  was  a  sort  of  sequel  to  Matins  and  Ves- 
pers, London,  1823,  in  which  his  religious  life 
is  at  its  best. 


I  62  Divine  Perfections. 

God,  my  King,  thy  might  confessing, 

Ever  will  I  bless  thy  name  ; 
Day  by  day  thy  throne  addressing, 
Still  will  I  thy  praise  proclaim. 

2  Nor  shall  fail  from  memory's  tre?sure 
Works  by  love  and  mercy  wrought — 

Works  of  love  surpa<;sing  measure. 
Works  of  mercy  passing  thought. 


Ss,  7s. 


CLOSE  OF  SERVICE. 


n 


3  Full  of  kindiifcss  and  compassion, 
Slow  of  anger,  vast  in  love, 

God  is  good  to  all  creation  ; 
All  his  works  his  goodness  prove. 

4  All  thy  works,  O  Lord,  shall  bless  thee, 
Thee  shall  all  thy  saints  adore  ; 

King  supreme  shall  they  confess  thee. 
And  proclaim  thy  sovereign  power. 

The  poet-bishop,  Richard  Mant,  D.  D.,  au- 
thor of  this  hymn,  was  born  at  Southampton 
(Dr.  Watts'  birthplace),  February  12,  1776. 
He  was  a  pupil  of  Winchester  school,  and 
subsequently  studied  at  Trinity  College,  Ox- 
ford, graduated  B.  A.  in  1797.  and  made 
M.  A.  in  1799.  He  was  successively  fellow 
of  Oriel,  college  tutor,  curate  in  Southampton, 
and  rector  in  London.  He  was  created  Bishop 
of  Killaloe  and  Kilfenora,  Ireland,  in  1820. 
Of  his  death  Josiah  Miller  says  very  sweetly : 
"After  a  learned,  zealous,  and  laborious  life, 
he  exchanged  toil  for  rest  on  November  2, 
1848." 

From  his  earliest  years  Bishop  Mant  showed 
signs  of  poetic  talent.  He  wrote  poems  in 
honor  of  his  father  and  of  his  schoolmaster, 
and  he  edited  the  poems  of  Thomas  Warton, 
the  poet  laureate.  Even  the  reasons  for  his 
choice  in  marriage  were  put  in  verse  and  sent 
to  the  object  of  his  affections.  His  works  are 
too  numerous  even  to  mention.  He  is  best 
known,  however,  by  the  Conuneniary  on  the 
Whole  Bible,  which  he  issued  in  connection 
with  Rev.  Dr.  D'Oyly,  and  by  the  Book  of 
Psalms  in  an  English  Metrical  Version, 
published  in  1824.  It  is  from  this  volume 
that  the  hymn  in  question  is  taken. 

163  "  Sun  of  my  soul !"  L.  M. 

Sun  of  my  soul !  thou  Saviour  dear. 
It  is  not  night  if  thou  be  near; 
Oh,  may  no  earth-born  cloud  arise 
To  hide  tliee  from  thy  servant's  eyes ! 

2  When  soft  the  dews  of  kindly  sleep 
My  weary  eyelids  gently  steep. 

Be  my  last  thought — how  sweet  to  rest 
For  ever  on  my  Saviour's  breast ! 

3  Abide  with  me  from  morn  till  eve, 
For  without  thee  I  cannot  live  ; 
Abide  with  me  when  night  is  nigh, 
For  without  thee  I  dare  not  die. 

4  Be  near  to  bless  me  when  I  wake, 
Ere  through  the  world  my  way  I  take  : 
Abide  with  me  till  in  thy  love 

I  lose  myself  in  heaven  above. 

This  popular  hymn  is  compiled  from  the 
second    poem   of    Rev.   John    Keble    in    the 
Christian    Year.     It  contains  fourteen  stan- 
zas, and  the  author  annexed  to  it  the  text  in 
Luke  24 :  29  :  "Abide  with  us  ;  for  it  is  toward 
evening,  and  the  day  is  far  spent."  The  tune 
hich  is  now  generally  sung  to  it, 
ed  by  W.  H.  Monk  from  a  Ger- 
melody,  the  same  as  that  chosen 
s  before  by  Dr.  Thomas  Hastings, 


and  sung  here  in  the  United  States  as  Halle 
in  six  lines  sevens,  to  the  words,  "  Christ, 
whose  glory  fills  the  skies." 

164  Evening  Shadows.  L.  M. 

Again,  as  evening's  shadow  falls, 
We  gather  in  these  hallowed  walls ; 
And  evening  hymn  and  evening  prayer 
Rise  mingling  on  the  holy  air. 

2  May  struggling  hearts  that  seek  release 
Here  find  the  rest  of  God's  own  peace; 
And,  strengthened  here  by  hymn  and  prayer, 
Lay  down  the  burden  and  the  care. 

3  O  God  our  Light,  to  thee  we  bow ; 
Within  ajl  shadows  standest  thou  : 
Give  deeper  calm  than  night  can  bring. 
Give  sweeter  songs  than  life  can  sing. 

4  Life's  tumult  we  must  meet  again. 
We  cannot  at  the  shrine  remain  ; 
But  in  the  spirit's  secret  cell 

May  hymn  and  prayer  for  ever  dwell. 

This  excellent  evening  hymn  was  written 
by  Rev.  Samuel  Longfellow,  a  minister  of 
high  standing  in  the  Unitarian  Church,  and  a 
poet  of  good  repute.  He  was  born  at  Port- 
land, Me.,  on  June  18,  1819,  and  was  grad- 
uated at  Harvard  University  in  1839,  ^i^d  at 
the  Harvard  Divinity  School  in  1846.  He 
became  the  pastor  of  a  church  in  Fall  River, 
Mass.,  in  1848,  and  in  1853  he  accepted  a  call 
to  the  Second  Unitarian  Church  of  Brooklyn. 
In  1869  he  resigned  his  charge  in  Brooklyn 
and  went  abroad.  On  his  return  he  settled  at 
Cambridge,  Mass.,  and  though  he  continued 
to  preach,  he  had  no  pastoral  charge  until 
1878,  when  he  became  minister  of  a  church  at 
Germantown,  Pa.  In  1882  he  returned  to 
Cambridge.  In  addition  to  writing  several 
essays  for  The  Radical  (i866-'7i)  and  many 
hymns  that  have  a  place  in  other  collections 
than  his  own,  Mr.  Longfellow  compiled,  in 
association  with  the  Rev.  Samuel  Johnson,  A 
Book  of  Hymns,  1846.  It  is  of  this  volume 
that  the  story  is  told ;  it  seems  that  one  of  the 
editors  made  the  remark  in  the  presence  of  a 
facetious  contemporary  concerning  the  em- 
barrassment he  felt  in  finding  a  name  for  the 
new  hymnal.  "  Why,"  said  this  helpful  friend, 
remembering  the  given  name  of  both  of  the 
compilers,  "  you  might  call  it  The  Sam  Book!' 
Mr.  Longfellow  afterward  published  for  con- 
gregational use,  A  Book  of  Hymns  and  Tunes, 
1859,  and  a  small  volume  for  the  vesper  ser- 
vice that  he  had  instituted.  In  1853  he  and 
Col.  T.  W.  Higginson  edited  Thalatta :  A 
Book  for  the  Seaside,  a  collection  of  poetry 
that  was  partly  original.  He  also  published 
the  Ltfe  of  Henry  IVads^uorth  Longfellow, 
1 886,  and  Final  Memorials  of  H.  IV.  Long- 
fellow, 1887.  He  died  at  Portland,  Me.,  Oc- 
tober 3,  1892,  and  was  buried  there  in  the 
family  tomb. 


78 


CLOSE  OF  SERVICE. 


1 65  Evening  Song.  L.  M. 

Glory  to  thee,  my  God.  this  night, 
For  all  the  blessings  of  the  light ; 
Keep  me,  oh,  keep  me.  King  of  kings  ! 
Beneath  thine  own  almighty  wings. 

2  Forgive  me;  Lord,  for  thy  dear  Son, 
The  ill  which  I  this  day  have  done  ; 
That  with  the  world,  myself,  and  thee, 
I,  ere  I  sleep,  at  peace  may  be.  . 

3  Teach  me  to  live,  that  I  may  dread 
The  grave  as  little  as  my  bed: 
Teach  me  to  die,  that  so  1  may 
Rise  glorious  at  the  judgment-day. 

4  Oh,  let  my  soul  on  thee  repose. 

And  may  sweet  sleep  mine  eyelids  close  ! 
Sleep,  which  shall  me  more  vigor6us  make 
To  serve  my  God  when  I  awake. 

5  Praise  God,  from  whom  all  blessings  flow  ; 
Praise  iiim,  all  creatures  here  below  ; 
Praise  him  above,  ye  heavenly  host  ; 
Praise  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  ( >host ! 


BISHOP  KEN'S  TOMB   I«   noUI  SELWOOtt 


This  hymn,  upon  the  authority  of  Anglican 
Hymnology,  stands  among  the  four  which 
head  the  Hst  of  first-class  songs  of  worship 
thus  far  produced  in  the  English  language, 
having  received  equally  the  sign  of  popular 
approval  among  the  hymnals.  "  Hark !  the 
herald  angels  sing,"  by  Charles  Wesley, 
"  Rock  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me,"  by  Augustus 
Toplady,  "  Lo !  He  comes  with  clouds  de- 
scending," also  by  Charles  Wesley — these  are 
the  other  three  in  the  exalted  companionship. 
It  is  likely  that  a  vote  among  the  American 
churches  of  every  name  might  show  the  same 
results.  Certainly  the  familiar  hymn  of 
Bishop  Ken  would,  with  "  Rock  of  Ages," 
stand  at  the  head  of  the  list  in  the  estimate  of 
the  people. 

It  is  something  to  follow  the  course  of  a 
good  man,  who,  amid  the  strife  of  parties,  is 
faithful  to  himself  and  to  his  God :  who  de- 
sires not  high  position,  yet  accepts  it  when  it 
falls  to  his  lot,  and  when  conscience  forbids 
him  to  retain  it,  can  leave  it  w-ithout  a  wistful 
look  behind.  Such  a  man  was  Thomas  Ken, 
Bishop  of  Bath  and  Wells  under  Charles  II. 
and  James  II.;  under  William  and  Mary  a 
deprived  nonjuror ;  under  Anne  a  reconciled 


but  private  member  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land. The  queen,  at  Bishop  Hooper's  sug- 
gestion, gave  him  a  pension  of  £200  a  year 
from  the  Treasury.  Ken,  now  old  and  in 
feeble  health,  to  w^hom  Lord  Weymouth  had 
already  granted  an  annuity  of  ^80  a  year,  ac- 
cepted the  kindly  offer,  and  the  last  seven 
years  of  his  life,  after  the  fourteen  years  of 
trial  which  had  elapsed  since  his  deprivation, 
were  passed  in  peace  and  comfort.  On 
March  lo,  171 1,  he  became  conscious  that 
death  was  near,  and  spent  the  evening  in  de- 
stroying all  of  his  papers  which  were  likely  ta 
perpetuate  any  bitterness.  On  March  19,  at 
Longleat,  he  peacefully  breathed  his  last.  On 
March  21  twelve  poor  men  bore  his  body  to 
the  quiet  grave  in  Frome  Selwood.  His  fu- 
neral and  his  tomb  were  of  the  humblest  de- 
scription, in  accordance  with  the  character  of 
his  life  and  his  own  desire. 

So  passed  away  the  "  seraphic  doctor  "  of 
the  English  Church.  It  has  been  said  that 
by  his  three  hymns — the  Morning,  Evening, 
and  the  less  know-n  Midnight  hymn — he  has 
conferred  a  greater  benefit  upon  posterity  than 
if  he  had  founded  three  hospitals.  It  had  al- 
ways been  his  devout  and  earnest  wish  that 
the  saints  of  God  might  praise  God  in  words 
of  his,  and  that  wish  has  been  abundantly 
granted.  His  other  poems,  though  they  are 
always  beautiful  in  sentiment  and  often  bright 
in  language,  are  practically  dead.  They  are 
poems  of  a  saint,  but  of  one  who  did  not 
possess  "  the  vision  and  the  faculty  divine  "  of 
the  poet.  But  it  was  not  in  vain  that  he,  like 
another  displaced  bishop  to  w  hom  he  com- 
pares himself — St.  Gregory  of  Nazianzus — 
devoted  to  sacred  song  what  he  calls  "  the 
small  dolorous  remnant  of  my  days."  There 
is  a  value  in  the  thoughts  which  he  expressed 
apart  from  the  too  prosaic  verse  in  which  he 
enshrined  them,  and  they  brought  him  the 
most  powerful  anodynes  for  his  many  sor- 
rows. 

It  is  recorded  in  this  good  man's  biography 
that  he  used  to  sing  the  Morning  Hymn  to 
his  own  accompaniment  on  the  lute.  He 
was  buried  in  the  early  dawn  at  Frome,  close 
by  the  wall  of  the  church.  This  had  been  his 
ow-n  request  both  as  to  time  and  place ;  he 
left  behind  him  the  wish  :  "  Under  the  east 
window  of  the  chancel,  just  at  sunrising." 
They  did  what  he  asked ;  and  they  sang, 
"Awake,  my  soul,  and  with  the  sun."  Dur- 
ing his  last  years  this  devout  man  carried  his 
shroud  in  his  portmanteau,  and  was  accus- 
tomed to  say  that  "  It  might  be  as  soon 
wanted  as  any  other  of  his  habiliments." 
This  scene  is  referred  to  in  fitting  terms  in 


CLOSE  OF  SERVICE. 


79 


one  of  the  finest  of  poems  written  by  Monk- 
ton  Milnes : 

"  Let  other  thoughts,  where'er  I  roam, 

Ne'er  from  my  memory  cancel 
The  coffin-fashioned  tomb  at  Frome 

That  lies  behind  the  chancel ; 
A  basket-work  where  bars  are  bent, 

Iron  in  place  of  osier, 
And  shapes  above  that  represent 

A  miter  and  a  crosier. 

"  These  signs  of  him  that  slumbers  there 

The  dignity  betoken  ; 
These  iron-bars  a  heart  declare 

Hard  bent  but  never  broken  ; 
This  form  portrays  how  souls  like  his, 

Their  pride  and  passion  quelling, 
Preferred  to  earth's  high  palaces 

This  calm  and  narrow  dwelling. 

"There  with  the  churchyard's  common  dust 

He  loved  his  own  to  mingle; 
The  faith  in  which  he  placed  his  trust 

Was  nothing  rare  or  single  ; 
Yet  lay  he  to  the  sacred  wall 

As  close  as  he  was  able — 
The  blessed  crumbs  might  almost  fall 

Upon  him  from  God's  table. 

"  Who  was  this  father  of  the  church, 

So  sacred  in  his  glory  ? 
In  vain  might  antiquarians  search 

For  records  of  his  story  ; 
But  preciously  tradition  keeps 

The  fame  of  holy  men  : 
So  there  the  Christian  smiles  and  weeps 

For  love  of  Bishop  Ken — 

"  A  name  his  country  once  forsook. 

But  now  with  joy  inherits. 
Confessor  in  the  church's  book 

And  Martyr  in  the  Spirit's  ! 
That  dared  with  royal  powers  to  cope, 

In  peaceful  faith  persisting, 
A  braver  Becket — who  could  hope 

To  conquer  unresisting." 

166  "  Desire  of  Nations."  L.  M. 

When  shades  of  night  around  us  close, 
And  weary  limbs  in  sleep  repose, 
The  faithful  soul  awake  may  be. 
And  longing  sigli,  O  Lord,  to  thee. 

2  Thou  true  Desire  of  nations,  hear; 
Thou  Word  of  God,  ihou  Saviour  dear; 
In  pity  heed  our  humble  cries. 

And  bid  at  length  the  fallen  rise. 

3  Oh,  come,  Redeemer,  come  and  free 
Thine  own  from  guilt  and  misery  ; 
The  gates  of  heaven  again  unfold, 
Which  Adam's  sin  had  closed  of  old. 

4  All  praise,  eternal  Son,  to  thee. 
Whose  advent  doth  thy  people  free; 
Whom  with  the  Father  we  adore 
And  Holy  Ghost  for  evermore. 

Many  of  this  author's  most  celebrated 
hymns  are  known  to  us  by  translations  which 
are  found  in  Hymns  Ancient  and  Modern. 
Charles  Coffin  was  born  near  Rheims,  France, 
in  1676,  and  early  distinguished  himself  as  a 
Latin  poet  and  teacher.  He  graduated  at 
Paris  in  1701,  immediately  afterwards  accept- 
ing a  position  at  the  College  of  Dormans- 
Beauvais,  the  principal  of  which  he  became  in 
17 13;  five  years  later  he  succeeded  the  his- 
torian Rollin  as  Rector  of  the  University  of 


Paris.  He  was  a  man  of  such  force  of  char- 
acter that  he  revolutionized  the  administra- 
tion of  the  university,  and  under  him  it  was 
raised  to  its  highest  pitch  of  success.  So 
great  was  his  personal  influence  that  he  im- 
pressed himself  upon  a  generation  of  French- 
men, many  of  whom  rose  to  eminence  in  after 
life.  Coffin  is  celebrated  for  his  participation 
in  the  Paris  Breviary,  the  liturgical  book  of  the 
Roman-catholic  Church,  in  which  are  found  the 
hymns  as  well  as  the  prayers.  A  demand  for 
a  reformation  of  the  Breniary  had  arisen  in 
the  sixteenth  century,  as  the  versions  then  in 
use  contained  much  bad  Latin  and  many 
metrical  faults ;  and  for  many  years  different 
authors  were  employed  upon  the  work.  The 
final  revison  was  published  in  1736  by  a 
commission  of  three  ecclesiastics,  of  whom 
Charles  Coffin  was  one.  Nearly  a  hundred 
of  his  own  compositions,  including  some  new 
versions  of  ancient  hymns,  appeared  in  it,  and 
his  work  is  on  a  high  level  of  excellence.  He 
died  in  1749  honored  and  admired  by  those 
who  had  known  him. 

1 67  "Bless  us  this  eve  /"  L.  M. 

O  Father,  who  didst  all  things  make 
That  heaven  and  earth  might  do  thy  will, 

Bless  us  this  eve  for  Jesus'  sake. 
And  for  thy  work  preserve  us  still. 

2  O  Son,  who  didst  redeem  mankind, 
And  set  the  captive  sinner  free, 

Keep  us  this  eve  with  peaceful  mind, 
That  we  may  safe  abide  with  thee. 

3  O  Holy  Ghost,  who  by  thy  power 
Dost  sanctify  the  church  elect. 

Seal  us  this  eve,  and  hour  by  hour 
Our  bodies  guard,  our  souls  direct. 

4  Praise  to  the  Father  and  the  Son, 
O  Spirit,  equal  praise  to  thee: 

All  glory  be  to  God  alone. 

Now,  and  throughout  eternity  ! 

Concerning  the  now  acknowledged  author 
of  this  hymn,  no  particulars  were  given  for  a 
long  time,  beyond  his  name  and  the  fact  that 
some  unmentioned  English  hymnal  published 
the  stanzas  first  in  1846,  with  the  name  of 
Rev.  H.  B.  Heathcote  attached  to  them.  It 
is  only  lately  that  the  information  reaches  us 
that  the  hymn  was  really  written  by  Rev. 
William  Beadon  Heathcote*,  who  was  edu- 
cated at  New  College,  Oxford,  taking  his  de- 
gree in  1840.  For  some  time  he  was  a  Fel- 
low and  a  tutor  in  that  institution ;  then  he 
became  Precentor  of  Salisbury  Cathedral, 
then  Chaplain  to  the  Bishop  of  Salisbury  and 
Select  Preacher  at  Oxford.  This  hymn  is 
given  in  two  forms,  one  for  morning  and  the 
second  for  evening.  The  author  died  in  Au- 
gust, 1862.  A  lyric  so  really  excellent  as 
this  deserves  to  have  received  a  better  treat- 
ment.    Its  sentiment  is  fresh  and  its  struc- 


2o 


CLOSE  OF   SERVICE. 


ture  is  graceful.  There  is  a  fable  in  the  Jew- 
ish Talmud  which  it  readily  suggests.  The 
ancient  rabbins  used  to  say  two  angels,  one 
of  good  and  one  of  evil,  accompany  every 
man  when  on  Sabbath  eve  he  leaves  the  syna- 
gogue for  his  home.  If  he  finds  the  table 
spread  in  his  house  and  the  proper  lamps 
lighted,  the  wife  and  children  being  all  ready 
in  becoming  attire  for  the  sacred  day,  then 
the  angel  of  good  says :  "  May  the  next  Sab- 
bath, and  may  all  thy  Sabbaths,  be  like  this  I 
Peace  unto  this  dwelling,  peace !"  And  to 
this  blessing  even  the  angel  of  evil  is  forced 
to  add,  "Amen !"  But  if  the  house  is  not 
ready,  and  no  preparations  for  the  holy  day 
have  been  made,  then  the  angel  of  evil  speaks : 
and  what  he  says  is,  "  May  all  thy  Sabbaths 
be  like  this !"  And  the  angel  of  good  is 
compelled  to  answer  with  tears,  "Amen !" 


One  portion  of  it  cannot  be  called  into  in- 
cessant activity  without  the  risk  of  injury. 
Its  different  regions,  devoted  to  different 
functions,  must  have  their  separate  times  of 
rest.  The  excitement  of  one  part  must  be 
coincident  with  a  pause  in  the  action  of  an- 
other. The  Sabbath  is  a  boon  to  all  classes 
of  men ;  for,  in  whatever  position  of  life  we 
may  be  placed,  it  is  needful  for  us  to  have  an 
opportunity  of  rest.  No  man  can,  for  any 
length  of  time,  pursue  one  avocation  or  one 
train  of  thought  without  mental,  and  there- 
fore bodily,  injury — nay,  without  insanity." 


169 


"Perpetual  blessings." 


L.  M. 


1 38  Twilight.  L.  M. 

Great  God  !  to  thee  my  evening  song 

With  humble  gratitude  I  raise  ; 
Oh,  let  thy  mercy  tune  my  tongue. 

And  fill  my  heart  with  lively  praise. 

2  My  days  unclouded  as  they  pass, 
And  every  gentle  rolling  hour, 

Are  monuments  of  wondrous  grace, 
And  witness  to  thy  love  and  power. 

3  Seal  my  forgiveness  in  the  blood 
Of  Jesus ;  his  dear  name  alone 

I  plead  for  pardon,  gracious  God  ! 
And  kind  acceptance  at  thy  throne. 

Miss  Anne  Steele  has  added  here  another 
of  her  hymns.  It  offers  the  suggestion  of 
Sabbath  rest  and  breathes  the  air  of  repose. 
"  Theodosia  "  is  tired  with  the  labors  of  an- 
other day,  and  now  seeks  recuperation  in 
spiritual  communion  with  God.  Our  devo- 
tions are  often  hurried  and  incomplete,  and 
of  course  unsatisfactory.  The  week  rushes 
by  and  leaves  us  exhausted.  Like  the  bride 
in  the  Song  of  Songs,  we  have  now  and  then 
to  confess,  "  They  made  me  the  keeper  of 
the  vineyards ;  but  mine  own  vineyard  have 
I  not  kept."  Our  services  are  too  full  of 
excitement  on  the  Lord's  day,  too  meager  of 
tranquil  worship.  Then  comes  the  joyous 
evening,  and  we  sit  at  the  Master's  feet  for 
our  twilight  hymn. 

Even  physicians  and  scientists  are  coming  170 
to  the  rescue  of  this  one  day  in  seven  as  a 
prime  necessity  for  all  classes  of  human  be- 
ings. Dr.  John  W.  Draper  says  :  "  The  con- 
stitution of  the  brain  is  such  that  •  it  must 
have  its  time  to  repose.  Periodicity  is 
stamped  upon  it.  Nor  is  it  enough  that  it 
is  awake  and  in  action  by  day,  and  in  the 
silence  of  the  night  obtains  rest  and  repose ; 
that  same  periodicity  which  belongs  to  it  as 
a  whole  belongs  to  all  its  constituent  parts. 


My  God,  how  endless  is  thy  love! 

Thy  gifts  are  every  evening  new  ; 
And  morning  mercies  from  above 

Gently  distil,  like  early  dew. 

2  Thou  spread' st  the  curtains  of  the  night, 
Great  Guardian  of  my  sleeping  hours  ; 

Thy  sovereign  word  restores  the  lijiht. 
And  quickens  all  my  drowsy  powers. 

3  I  yield  my  powers  to  thy  command  ; 
To  thee  I  consecrate  my  days  ; 

Perpetual  blessings  from  thy  hand 
Demand  perpetual  songs  of  praise. 

This  familiar  hymn  is  found  as  No.  81  in 
Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  Book  I.,  where  it  shows  the 
usual  three  stanzas  entirely  unchanged.  It  is 
entitled  "A  Song  for  Morning  or  Evening," 
and  has  attached  to  it  two  texts.  The  refer- 
ence to  Lamentations  3 :  23  appears  in  the 
opening  verse  :  "  His  compassions  fail  not ; 
they  are  new  every  morning ;"  and  that  to 
Isaiah  45  : 7,  in  the  second  :  "  I  form  the  light 
and  create  darkness."  The  sentiment  of  the 
whole  poem  is  well  indicated  in  the  name  of 
the  tune  to  which  for  many  years  it  has  been 
generally  sung.  "  Gratitude "  is  the  truest 
feeling  exercised  by  a  sincere  child  of  God 
when  the  day  is  begun  and  the  care  of  the 
Highest  is  remembered,  as  well  as  when  the 
day  is  ended  and  the  same  gracious  protec- 
tion has  been  received  again.  This  song  of 
the  heart  is  welcomed  in  all  the  collections  on 
both  sides  of  the  sea.  Simple  as  it  is,  it  has 
been  reckoned  as  one  of  the  Third  Rank 
hymns  of  the  Future  by  the  critics  of  Aiigli- 
can  Hymnology. 


Benediction.  L.  M. 

The  peace  which  God  alone  reveals. 

And  by  his  word  of  grace  imparts, 
Which  only  the  believer  feels, 

Direct,  and  keep,  and  cheer  our  hearts  ! 

2  And  may  the  holy  Three  in  One, 
The  Father,  Word,  and  Comforter, 

Pour  an  abundant  blessing  down 
On  every  soul  assembled  here  ! 

3  Praise  God,  from  whom  all  blessings  flow: 
Praise  him.  all  creatures  here  below; 

Praise  him  above,  ye  heavenly  host ; 
Praise  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost. 


CLOSE  OF  SERVICE. 


Si 


One  of  Rev.  John  Newton's  exquisite  felici- 
ties in  voicing  the  apostle  Paul's  benediction, 
joined  to  the  common  Doxology,  and  so  fur- 
nishing a  very  htting  group  of  scaiizas  to  be 
used  at  the  close  of  divine  service.  The  bene- 
diction is  found  in  Philippians  4:7.  "And 
ths  peace  of  God.  which  passeth  all  under- 
standing, shall  keep  your  hearts  and  minds 
through  Christ  Jesus."  The  Doxologj'  is  the 
final  verse  in  Ken's  Evening  Hymn. 

1 7  I  Evening.  L.  M. 

Tmjs  far  the  Lord  has  led  me  on  ; 

Thus  far  his  power  prolongs  my  days  ; 
And  every  evening  shall  make  known 

Some  fresh  memorial  of  his  grace. 

2  Much  of  my  time  has  run  to  waste. 
And  I,  perhaps,  am  near  my  home ; 

But  he  forgives  my  follies  past, 
And  gives  me  strength  for  days  to  come. 

3  I  lay  my  body  down  to  sleep  ; 
Peace  is  the  pillow  for  my  head  ; 

While  well-appointed  angels  keep 
Their  watchful  stations  round  my  bed. 

4  Thus,  when  the  night  of  death  shall  come. 
My  flash  shall  rest  beneath  the  ground. 

And  wait  thy  voice  to  break  my  tomb. 
With  sweet  salvation  in  the  sound. 

In  Book  I.  of  Dr.  Isaac  Watts  this  old  folk- 
song appears  with  its  simple  title,  "An  Eve- 
ning Hymn."  It  gives  for  its  foundation  ref- 
erences to  parts  of  Psalms  3  and  4,  and  con- 
sists of  six  stanzas.  It  is  accepted  in  almost 
all  the  modern  collections,  and  is  perhaps  in 
this  country  the  best  learned  and  most  used 
in  all  our  family  devotions  at  the  close  of  the 
day.  The  music  of  "  Hebron "  will  alone 
seem  to  fit  the  words.     Who  can  forget  it .-' 

"  Old  tunes  are  precious  to  me  as  old  paths 
In  which  I  wandered  as  a  happy  boy ; 
In  truth  they  are  the  old  paths  of  the  soul, 
Oft  trod,  well-worn,  familiar,  up  to  God." 

1 72  Dismissal.  L.  M. 

Dismiss  us  with  thy  blessing.  Lord! 
Help  us  to  feed  upon  thy  word ; 
All  that  has  been  amiss,  forgive. 
And  let  thy  truth  within  us  live. 

2  Though  we  are  guilty,  thou  art  good  ; 
Wash  all  our  works  in  Jesus'  blood  ; 
Give  everj'  burdened  soul  release. 
And  bid  us  all  depart  in  peace. 

Rev.  Joseph  Hart,  the  author  of  this  hymn, 
was  born  in  London  in  171 2.  Little  is  known 
of  his  early  life,  but  his  education  'vas  good, 
and  he  was  for  many  years  a  teacher  of  lan- 
guages. As  a  young  man  he  had  many  se- 
rious thoughts,  but  he  led  a  dissipated  life 
and  stifled  his  better  impulses.  He  even 
wrote  a  book  in  1741  entitled  The  Unreason- 
ableness of  Religion  ;  but  his  conscience  was 
aroused  by  the  contemplation  of  Christ's  suf- 
ferings in  the  Garden  of  Gethsemane,  and  in 
1759  he  commenced  both  to  preach  and  to 


write  hymns.  Soon  after,  at  the  age  of  forty- 
eight,  he  became  minister  of  Jewin  Street  In- 
dependent Chapel  in  London.  His  after  life 
was  not  without  thorns,  but  his  conviction  of 
the  truths  of  the  Gospel  was  deep  and  sin- 
cere, and  he  died  in  the  ministry,  May  24, 
1768.  In  the  preface  to  his  book  of  hymns 
he  speaks  of  his  conversion  in  language 
which  shows  how  profound  had  been  his 
sense  of  sin,  and  how  great  the  relief  when 
he  acknowledged  Christ  as  his  Master. 

I  73  Fruits  of  Holiness.  S.  M. 

Lord  of  the  hearts  of  men, 
Thou  hast  vouchsafed  to  bless 

From  age  to  age  thy  chosen  saints 
With  fruits  of  holiness. 

2  Here  faith  and  hope  and  love 
Reign  in  sweet  bond  allied ; 

There,  when  this  little  day  is  o'er, 
Shall  love  alone  abide. 

3  Oh,  love,  oh,  truth,  oh,  light ! 
Light  never  to  decay  ! 

Oh,  rest  from  thousand  labors  past, 
Oh,  endless  Sabbath  day  ! 

4  Here,  bearing  the  good  seed, 
'Mid  cares  and  tears  we  come  ; 

There,  with  rejoicing  hearts,  we  bear 
Our  harvest-burdens  home. 

5  Oh,  give  us,  mighty  Lord, 
The  fruits  thyself  dost  love  : 

Soon  shall  thoii  from  thy  judgment-seat 
Crown  thine  own  gifts  above. 


J.  R.  WOODhORD,  D.  D. 

The  author  of  this  hymn  is  the  Rev.  James 
Russell  Woodford,  D.  D.  He  was  born  at 
Henley-on-Thames,  England,  April  30,  1820, 
and  was  duly  graduated  at  Pembroke  College, 
Cambridge,  in  the  class  of  1842,  taking  very 
6 


82 


CLOSE   OF   SERVICE. 


high  honors  in  mathematics  and  classics. 
He  entered  at  once  upon  the  ministry  in  the 
EstabUshed  Church,  being  ordained  a  deacon 
in  1843  and  a  priest  in  1845.  Appointed  to 
the  incumbency  of  the  new  district  church  at 
St.  Mark's,  Easton,  near  Bristol,  he  remained 
in  this  charge  until  1855,  when  he  was  pre- 
sented to  the  vicarage  of  Kempsford,  Glou- 
cestershire ;  then  he  was  chosen  by  the  trus- 
tees of  the  parish  and  vicarage  of  Leeds  to 
assume  sole  care  of  the  work  in  that  busy 
capital  of  the  West  Riding.  This  was  an 
arduous  work,  but  he  became  popular  and 
useful  at  once,  giving  his  whole  heart  and 
strength  to  his  duties.  But  in  1873  he  was 
appointed  the  Bishop  of  Ely,  and  was  conse- 
crated to  the  office  on  December  14  of  that 
year  at  Westminster  Abbey.  There  he  spent 
the  rest  of  his  life ;  twelve  years  of  energetic 
work  concluded  his  ministry ;  he  died  at  the 
palace  October  24,  1885. 

This  hymn  is  translated  from  the  Latin ; 
the  original  is  found  in  the  Paris  Breviary, 
commencing  "  Supreme  Motor  cordium ;" 
the  English  rendering  of  it  was  contributed 
by  Dr.  W^oodford  to  the  Parish  Hymn  Book 
in  1863.  He  has  composed  some  good  origi- 
nal hymns  also. 

I  74  77/1?  Evening  Hour.  8s,  6S. 

The  Sabbath  day  has  reached  its  close, 
Yet,  Saviour,  ere  I  seek  repose. 
Grant  me  the  peace  thy  love  bestows: 
Smile  on  my  evening  hour. 

2  Weary,  I  come  to  thee  for  rest ; 
Hallow  and  calm  my  troubled  breast ; 
Grant  me  thy  Spirit  for  my  guest: 

Smile  on  my  evening  hour. 

3  Let  not  the  gospel  seed  remain 
Unfruitful,  or  be  sown  in  vain  ; 

Let  heavenly  dews  descend  like  rain  : 
Smile  on  my  evening  hour. 

4  Oh,  Jesus,  Lord,  enthroned  on  high, 
Thou  hearest  the  contrite  spirit's  sigh  ; 
Look  down  on  me  with  pitying  eye: 

Smile  on  my  evening  hour. 

5  My  only  intercessor  thou, 
Mingle  thy  fragrant  incense  now 

■  With  every  prayer  and  every  vow : 
Smile  on  my  evening  hour. 

6  And,  oh,  when  time's  short  course  shall  end. 
And  death's  dark  shades  around  impend. 

My  God,  my  everlasting  Friend, 
Smile  on  my  evening  hour. 

We  might  have  known,  from  this  favorite 
fashion  used  in  its  meter,  that  the  hymn  be- 
fore us  was  to  be  reckoned  with  those  of  the 
gifted  granddaughter  of  Rev.  John  Venn, 
Miss  Charlotte  Elliott,  who  wrote  "  Just  as  I 
am,  without  one  plea."  That  form  of  stanza 
has  been  rarely  employed  by  our  sacred 
poets.     We  are  informed,  in  the  memoirs  of 


another  woman,  in  many  respects  equally 
gifted  and  famous,  Mar>'  Lundie  Duncan, 
that  once  she  started  for  health's  sake  upon 
an  extended  tour  in  the  country.  With  a 
younger  brother  she  journeyed  through  a  de- 
parting snowstorm  to  the  dwelling  of  her 
future  father-in-law.  Of  the  trip  she  says : 
"  The  pass  of  Dalveen  looked  so  beautiful  in 
alternate  streaks  of  snow  and  green  sward, 
that  I  could  not  telt  whether  to  prefer  it  so 
or  in  the  rich  glow  of  summer,  as  I  saw  it  be- 
fore. On  the  way  I  read  Haldane's  sermon, 
'  The  Jews  God's  Witnesses,'  with  much  in- 
terest. Elliott's  poetry  employed  me  for 
miles."  Such  a  record  makes  one  think  of 
the  singing  pilgrim,  far  on  ahead  of  him  in 
the  valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  whom 
Christian  heard  with  a  cheered  heart. 

I  75  "Precious  seed."  C.  M. 

Almighty  God,  thy  word  is  cast 

Like  seed  into  the  ground  ; 
Now  let  the  dew  of  heaven  descend, 

And  righteous  fruits  abound. 

2  Let  not  the  foe  of  Christ  or  man 
This  holy  seed  remove. 

But  give  it  root  in  every  heart 
To  bring  forth  fruits  of  love. 

3  Let  not  the  world's  deceitful  cares 
The  rising  plant  destroy. 

But  let  it  yield  a  hundred-fold. 
The  fruits  of  peace  and  joy. 

4  Nor  let  thy  word,  so  kindly  sent 
To  raise  us  to  thy  throne, 

Return  to  thee  and  sadly  tell 
That  we  reject  thy  Son. 

Rev.  John  Cawood  was  born  at  Matlock, 
Derbyshire,  England,  March  18,  1775.  He 
was  graduated  at  Oxford  in  1801,  and  was 
ordained  to  the  ministry  in  the  Church  of 
England.  Then  he  became  a  perpetual  curate 
in  Bewdley,  Worcestershire,  remaining  there 
until  his  death,  November  7,  1852.  He  was 
the  author  of  many  hymns  besides  this  one, 
some  of  them  of  real  merit  being  found  in 
our  modern  collections ;  but  they  appear 
with  many  changes  in  the  phraseologfy  from 
his  own  originals,  and  have  been  improved 
much  in  matters  of  taste  and  gracefulness  of 
composition.  This  one  is  given  in  Lyra  Brit- 
annica,  and  some  date  it  about  the  year 
181 5.  It  is  entitled  "  Hymn  after  Sermon," 
and  it  is  most  useful  in  just  that  place. 

I  76  "Keep  us." 

Another  day  is  past  and  gone ; 

O  God,  we  bow  to  thee ; 
Again,  as  nightly  shades  come  on, 

To  thy  defence  we  flee. 

2  Forgive  us  all  the  evil  done, 

The  good  undone,  to-day  ; 
And  keep  us  from  the  Wicked  One, 

Now,  Father,  and  for  aye. 


CM. 


CLOSE  OF  SERVICE. 


83 


3  When  shall  that  day  of  gladness  come, 
Ne'er  sinking  in  the  west ; 

That  country  and  that  blessed  home, 
Wliere  none  shall  break  our  rest — 

4  Where  we,  O  God,  preserved  beneath 
The  shelter  of  thy  wing, 

For  evermore  thy  praise  shall  breathe, 
And  of  thy  mercy  sing  ? 

Rev.  Isaac  Williams,  translator  of  this 
hymn,  was  born  at  Cwmcynfelin  in  Cardigan- 
shire, Wales,  December  12,  1802,  but  his 
home  was  in  London,  where  he  received  his 
early  education.  He  gained  from  his  tutor, 
an  English  clergyman,  a  great  fondness  for 
Latin  poetry,  and  became  so  proficient  in 
that  language  that  he  used  not  only  to  write, 
but  to  think  in  it,  being  obliged  in  writing  an 
English  theme  to  translate  his  ideas,  which 
were  in  Latin,  into  his  own  language.  In 
1 82 1  he  entered  Trinity  College,  Oxford,  and 
two  years  later  won  the  University  prize  for 
Latin  verse.  This  fact  became  a  turning- 
point  in  his  career,  as  it  brought  him  into 
friendship  with  John  Keble,  who  exercised  a 
powerful  influence  over  him  and  greatly  en- 
riched his  spiritual  life.  Keble  interested  him- 
self in  the  young  man,  and  for  some  years 
Williams  spent  his  long  vacations  with  him, 
Robert  Wilberforce,  then  an  undergraduate 
at  Oriel  College,  being  sometimes  of  the 
party.  In  1829  Williams  was  ordained  to 
the  curacy  of  Windrush,  a  few  miles  from 
Fairford,  where  Keble  was  living ;  but  he  did 
not  remain  there  long,  as  he  competed  suc- 
cessfully for  a  Trinity  Fellowship  and  re- 
turned to  Oxford  the  same  year  as  college 
tutor.  Here  he  met  J.  H.  Newman  and  was 
strongly  drawn  towards  him,  like  most  people 
who  knew  this  great  man.  He  became  New- 
man's curate  at  St.  Mary's,  Oxford,  where  he 
remained  until  1842,  when  he  married  and 
removed  to  Bisley  as  curate.  His  life  after- 
ward was  uneventful  except  for  one  occur- 
rence. When  Keble  resigned  his  Poetry 
Professorship  at  Oxford  he  was  desirous  that 
Williams  should  be  his  successor,  as  he 
seemed  not  only  to  be  in  entire  sympathy  of 
feeling  with  him  but  possessed  great  poetical 
merit,  his  reputation  as  a  sacred  poet  being 
only  second  to  that  of  Keble  himself.  He 
was,  however,  identified  with  the  tractarian 
writers,  as  he  had  actually  written  Tract 
80,  which  had  given  great  offence  to  some, 
and  was  known  as  the  friend  and  coadjutor 
of  Newman.  Hence  vehement  opposition  to 
his  election  arose  •  this  resulted  in  his  with- 
drawal from  public  life  and  from  Oxford.  He 
removed  to  Stinchcombe  in  1848,  where  he 
lived  in  retirement  for  many  years,  devo- 
ting himself  to  literary  work,  until  on  May  i, 


1865,  after  a  long  illness,  he  passed  quietly 
away. 

His  reputation  as  a  devotional  writer,  both 
of  prose  and  verse,  is  very  high,  and  his  char- 
acter was  singularly  attractive.  His  three 
Tracts,  So,  86,  and  8j,  were  very  valuable  to 
his  party  at  Oxford,  and  he  published  many 
other  volumes  of  sermons  and  religious  medi- 
tations which  are  most  winning  in  their  tone. 
The  poetical  translations  that  he  made  from 
the  Latin,  although  often  not  available  for 
common  use  on  account  of  the  irregularity  of 
the  meters  he  adopted,  have  inspired  others  to 
undertake  kindred  tasks.  With  a  poetical 
taste  so  true  and  a  talent  so  great,  his  work 
set  a  standard  which  has  made  itself  felt  in 
hymnody  in  England. 

1 77  Psalm  89.  CM, 

Blest  are  the  souls  that  hear  and  know 

The  gospel's  joyful  sound  ; 
Peace  shall  attend  the  path  they  go, 

And  light  their  steps  surround. 

2  Their  joy  shall  bea^  their  spirits  up 
Through  their  Redeemer's  name  ; 

His  righteousness  exalts  their  hope, 
Nor  Satan  dares  condemn. 

3  The  Lord,  our  glory  and  defence, 
Strength  and  salvation  gives ; 

Israel !  thy  King  for  ever  reigns. 
Thy  God  for  ever  lives. 

This  is  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  version  of  Psalm 
89,  C.  M.,  Third  Part.  As  a  hymn  to  be 
sung  after  a  sermon  it  is  full  of  precept  and 
prayer  alike.  It  has  a  suggestion  of  warning 
against  dullness  in  public  devotion.  "  It  is 
dangerous,"  says  pious  old  Gurnall,  "  to  fall 
asleep  with  a  candle  burning  by  our  side,  but 
more  dangerous  still  to  sleep  while  the  candle 
of  the  Word  is  shining  so  near  us."  John 
Wesley,  although  never  neglectful  of  his  min- 
isterial gravity,  had  nevertheless  a  good  sense 
of  humor.  His  servant,  Michael  Fenwick, 
complained  that  his  own  name  was  not  so 
much  as  once  mentioned  in  the  good  man's 
.  published  journal.  Wesley  intimated  that  he 
would  remember  him  quite  conspicuously  be- 
fore long.  Indeed,  in  the  very  next  number 
he  put  in  this  record :  "  Left  Epworth  with 
great  satisfaction,  and  about  one  o'clock 
preached  at  Clayworth.  I  think  none  were 
unmoved  but  Michael  Fenwick,  who  fell  fast 
asleep  under  an  adjoining  hay-rick." 


178 


Twilight. 


C.  M.  D. 


The  shadows  of  the  evening  hours 

Fall  from  the  darkening  sky. 
Upon  the  fragrance  of  the  flowers 

The  dews  of  evening  lie ; 
Before  thy  throne,  O  Lord  of  heaven  ! 

We  kneel  at  close  of  day  ; 
Look  on  thy  children  from  on  high, 

And  bear  us  while  we  pray. 


84 


CLOSE   OF   SERVICE. 


2  The  sorrows  of  thy  servants,  Lord, 
Oh,  do  not  thou  despise, 

But  let  the  incense  ol  our  prayers 

Before  thy  mercy  rise ; 
The  brightness  of  the  coming  night 

Upon  the  darkness  rolls  ; 
With  hopes  of  future  glory  chase 

The  shadows  of  our  souls. 

3  Slowly  the  rays  of  daylight  fade ; 
So  fade  within  our  heart 

The  hopes  in  earthly  love  and  joy. 

That  one  by  one  depart ; 
Slowly  the  bright  stars,  one  by  one, 

Within  the  heavens  shine: 
Give  us,  O  Lord,  fresh  hopes  in  heaven, 

And  trust  in  things  divine. 

4  Let  peace,  O  Lord  !  thy  peace,  O  God ! 
Upon  our  souls  descend. 

From  midnight  fears  and  perils  thou 
Our  trembling  hearts  defend  : 

Give  us  a  respite  from  our  toil. 
Calm  and  subdue  our  woes  ; 

Through  the  long  day  we  suffer.  Lord, 
Oh,  give  us  now  repose  ! 

Miss  Adelaide  Anne  Procter,  the  well-known 
and  well-beloved  poet  who  wrote  "  The  Lost 
Chord,"  was  the  daughter  of  Bryan  Waller 
Procter,  better  recognized  most  likely  by  his 
pen-name  "  Barry  Cornwall."  These  two  au- 
thors will  stand  together  for  long  years  as 
having  been  geniuses  of  rare  taste  and  like 
gift,  and  at  the  same  time  loving  workers  side 
by  side  under  one  roof.  The  daughter,  who 
composed  the  hymn  now  before  us,  was  born 
in  Bedford  Square,  London,  October  30,  1825, 
and  died  February  2,  1864.  .Though  her  life 
was  short,  she  has  been  able  to  secure  a  place 
in  the  hearts  of  many  friends  by  the  singular 
tenderness  and  sympathetic  tone  of  most  of 
her  writings.  She  had  remarkable  gift  in  the 
way  of  bringing  comfort,  and  her  poems  rank 
high  in  English  literature.  She  used  to  pre- 
pare pieces  and  little  volumes  for  specific  sale, 
so  as  to  obtain  money  for  fairs  and  bazars 
held  in  behalf  of  the  suffering  creatures  of 
God — men  and  women  and  children  and  ani- 
mals— so  that  she  was  a  popular  and  profit- 
able contributor  to  societies  having  benevolent 
operations  in  hand.  In  1851  this  lady  became 
a  convert  to  the  faith  and  practice  of  the 
Roman-catholic  Church.  Her  devotion  was 
intense  and  sincere,  outrunning  even  pru- 
dence, and  exhausting  her  life  with  too  great 
demands  upon  her  strength  and  her  sensi- 
bility. 

179  Psalm  124.  C.  M.  D. 

Shine  on  our  souls,  eternal  God, 

With  rays  of  beauty  shine ! 
Oh,  let  thy  favor  crown  our  davs. 

And  all  their  round  be  thine  ! 
Did  we  not  raise  our  hands  to  thee, 

Our  hands  might  toil  in  vain  ; 
Small  joy  success  itself  could  give, 

If  thou  thy  love  restrain. 


2  With  thee  let  every  week  begin. 

With  thee  each  day  be  spent ; 
For  thee  each  fleeting  hour  improved. 

Since  each  by  thee  is  lent. 
Thus  cheer  us  through  this  desert  road 

Till  all  our  labors  cease, 
And  heaven  refresh  our  weary  souls 

With  everlasting  peace. 

This  is  found  as  No.  53  of  Dr.  Philip  Dodd- 
ridge's Hymns,  and  is  entitled,  "Joy  and 
Prosperity  from  the  Presence  and  Blessing  of 
God."  It  has  four  stanzas,  and  is  referred 
by  the  author  to  Psalm  90:17.  It  was  writ- 
ten to  be  sung  at  the  close  of  the  sermon  as 
usual. 

180  "Hecareth.  S.  M. 

How  gentle  God's  commands  ! 

How  kind  his  precepts  are  ! 
Come,  cast  your  burdens  on  the  Lord, 

And  trust  his  constant  care. 

2  Beneath  his  watchful  eye 
His  saints  securely  dwell ; 

That  hand  which  bears  creation  up 
Shall  guard  his  children  well. 

3  Why  should  tiiis  anxious  load 
Press  down  your  weary  mind? 

Haste  to  your  heavenly  Father's  throne. 
And  sweet  refreshment  find. 

4  His  goodness  stands  approved. 
Unchanged  from  day  to  day  : 

I  'II  drop  my  burden  at  his  feet. 
And  bear  a  song  away. 

This  is  No.  340  in  the  collection  of  Dr. 
Philip  Doddridge's  Hymns.  He  has  entitled 
it,  "  God's  Care  a  Remedy  for  Ours."  An- 
nexed to  it  also  is  the  mention  of  i  Peter  5  : 7 
as  a  text :  "  Casting  all  your  care  upon  him  ; 
for  he  careth  for  you."  There  is  rather  more 
poetry  than  usual  in  this  hymn ;  the  author  is 
always  didactic,  no  matter  what  else  he  is; 
but  in  the  final  stanza  here  he  has  a  very 
beautiful  image  in  the  exchanging  of  a  burden 
for  a  song.  It  makes  us  think  of  the  lan- 
guage Edward  Garrett  puts  into  the  mouth  of 
one  of  his  speakers  in  his  stor)' :  "  When  the 
song  's  gone  out  of  your  life,  you  can't  start 
another  while  it 's  a-ringing  in  your  ears ;  it 's 
best  to  have  a  bit  of  silence,  and  out  o'  that, 
maybe,  a  psalm  '11  come  by-and-by." 

181  "  still  with  thee." 

Still,  still  with  thee,  my  God, 

I  would  desire  to  be  : 
By  day,  by  night,  at  home,  abroad, 

I  would  be  still  with  thee. 

2  With  thee  when  dawn  comes  in 
And  calls  me  back  to  care, 

Each  day  returning  to  begin 
With  thee,  my  God,  in  prayer. 

3  With  thee  when  day  is  done. 
And  evening  calms  the  mind  ; 

The  setting,  as  the  rising,  sun 
With  thee  my  heart  would  find. 


S.  M 


CLOSE  OF  SERVICE. 


85 


4  With  thee,  in  thee,  by  faith 

Abiding  I  would  be  ; 
By  day,  by  night,  in  life,  in  death, 

I  would  be  still  with  thee. 


JAMES   DRUMMOND   BURNS. 

Rev.  James  Drummofid  Burns,  the  author 
of  this  hymn,  was  one  of  those  poets  whose 
sweetest  songs  are  the  result  of  suffering.  Born 
in  Edinburgh,  February  18, 1823,  he  was  edu- 
cated at  the  High  School  and  University  in  that 
city.  He  received  his  theological  training  un- 
der Thomas  Chalmers,  the  great  leader  of  the 
Free  Church  of  Scotland,  and  in  1845  be- 
came pastor  of  the  Presbyterian  congregation 
at  Dunblane.  His  frame  was  enfeebled  by 
hard  study,  and  after  two  years  of  pastoral 
work  he  was  obliged  to  go  to  Madeira,  where 
in  a  favorable  climate  he  improved  in  health, 
and  took  charge  of  the  Presbyterian  Church 
at  Funchal.  After  five  years  spent  in  this 
foreign  country  he  thought  himself  able  to 
return  to  England.  In  1855  he  became  min- 
ister of  the  Presbyterian  Church  at  Hamp- 
stead,  London ;  but  after  nine  years  of  work 
and  worry  he  was  forced  to  seek  a  southern 
clim.ate  again  and  went  to  Mentone,  where  he 
died  November  27,  1864.  Although  a  poet, 
whose  hymns  rank  among  the  very  best  for 
beauty  and  depth  of  feeling,  he  was  ready  at 
any  moment  to  turn  aside  from  the  world  of 
art  to  assist  the  poor  and  sick,  and  his  preach- 


ing was  full  of  a  spirituality  which  deeply  im- 
pressed his  hearers.  It  has  been  said  of  him, 
"  He  was  a  true  Christian  and  a  true  poet, 
too  soon  called  from  toil  and  suffering  into 
rest  and  triumph." 

182  "Abide  with  us."'  S.  M. 

The  day,  O  Lord,  is  spent ; 

Abide  with  us,  and  rest ; 
Our  hearts'  desires  are  fully  bent 

On  making  thee  our  guest. 

3  We  have  not  reached  that  land. 

That  happy  land,  as  yet 
Where  holy  angels  round  thee  stand, 

Whose  sun  can  never  set. 

3  Our  sun  is  sinking  now, 
Our  day  is  almost  o'er  ; 

O  Sun  of  Righteousness,  do  thou 
Shine  on  us  evermore  ! 

4  The  grace  of  Christ  our  Lord, 
The  Father's  bouiidlets  love, 

The  Spirit's  blest  communion,  too. 
Be  with  us  from  above. 

This  is  one  of  Dr.  John  Mason  Neale's 
most  beautiful  original  poems,  and  was  pub- 
lished first  in  his  Hymns  for  Children,  in 
1842.  Archdeacon  Prescott  says,  "No  me- 
diaeval research,  no  wandering  among  the 
strange  ordinances  and  phantasies  of  the 
Eastern  Church,  ever  drew  John  Neale  away 
from  the  pure,  simple  faith  in  his  Saviour, 
Jesus  Christ ;"  and  this  hymn  is  a  testimony 
to  it.  So  perfect  was  the  poem  in  every  word 
and  phrase  that  not  a  syllable  has  been  altered 
since  it  was  first  printed,  although  it  was  one 
of  his  earliest  works. 

1 83  At  Dismission.  S.  M. 

Oncr  more,  before  we  part, 
Oh,  bless  the  Saviour's  name  ! 

Let  every  tongue  and  every  heart 
Adore  and  praise  the  same. 

2  Lord,  in  thy  grace  we  came. 
That  blessing  still  impart ; 

We  met  in  Jesus'  sacred  name. 
In  Jesus'  name  we  part. 

3  Still  on  thy  holy  word 
Help  us  to  feed,  and  grow. 

Still  to  go  on  to  know  the  Lord, 
And  practice  what  we  know. 

4  Now,  Lord,  before  we  part, 
Help  us  to  bless  thv  name  : 

Let  every  tongue  and  every  heart 
Adore  and  praise  the  same. 

This  hymn  is  correctly  attributed  to  Rev. 
Joseph  Hart,  although  some  of  the  stanzas 
were  partially  rewritten  by  Dr.  R.  Hawker. 
It  appeared  in  1762,  and  has  been  frequently 
repeated  in  later  collections  on  either  side  of 
the  ocean. 


184 


Evening. 


S.  M. 


The  swift  declining  day. 

How  fast  its  moments  fly  ! 
While  f  vening's  broad  and  gloomy  shade 

Gains  on  the  western  sky. 


86 


CLOSE  OF   SERVICE. 


2  Ye  mortals,  mark  its  pace, 
And  use  the  hours  of  light ; 

And  know  its  Maker  can  command 
At  once  eternal  night. 

3  Give  glory  to  the  Lord 

Who  rules  the  whirling  sphere ; 
Submissive  at  his  footstool  bow, 
And  seek  salvation  there. 

4  Then  shall  new  luster  break 
Through  death's  impending  gloom, 

And  lead  you  to  unchanging  Tight, 
In  your  celestial  home. 

Another  selection  from  the  Hymns  of  Dr. 
Philip  Doddridge,  where  it  is  entitled  "  Walk 
in  the  Light."  Many  changes  are  to  be  noted 
in  this  piece  along  the  range  of  years,  ever)' 
one  of  which  has  improved  the  versification. 
It  is  now  one  of  the  most  useful  and  popular 
songs  for  the  family  altar.  It  carries  with  it 
a  breathless  rush  of  tender  expostulation  in 
view  of  human  frailty.  We  happen  to  belong 
to  that  number  of  prospered  persons  who 
were  reared  on  the  New  England  Primer. 
We  have  never  had  much  to  say  about  the 
poetry  of  that  remembered  volume,  nor  do 
we  specially  now  propose  to  commend  the 
specimens  of  uncouth  art  with  which  it  was 
illustrated.  But  two  pictures  rise  in  our 
memory  with  an  accompanying  distich,  which 
we  are  frank  to  acknowledge  have  been  fac- 
tors in  our  life.  One  represented  a  boy  at  his 
topmost  speed,  with  a  tall  skeleton  running 
after  him,  holding  an  hour-glass  in  his  out- 
stretched left  hand,  and  in  his  right  a  sharp- 
ened dart,  with  which  last  it  was  intimated  he 
intended  to  pierce  the  lad  in  the  back  in  case 
he  caught  him.  The  legend  beneath  was 
this : 

"Youth  forward  slips.  Death  soonest  nips." 

The  Other  cut  represented  an  old  man  with  a 
scythe  swinging  it  at  his  full  strength.  Before 
him  was  a  feeble  tuft  of  grass :  behind  him 
desolation.  And  the  legend  in  this  instance 
read  thus : 

"  Time  cuts  down  all,  both  g^eat  and  small." 

Now  out  of  this  in  some  measure  we  won- 
der if  there  has  not  grown  a  certain  sense, 
which  is  surely  recognizable,  of  tremendous 
haste  with  which  we  have  been  agitated  from 
time  immemorial.  We  have  always  seemed 
to  ourselves  to  be  chased  up  rather  severely 
by  this  skeleton,  Death,  and  this  scythe-man, 
Time.  Still  our  immediate  neighbors  do  not 
appear  to  have  any  advantage.  The  whole 
world  is  certainly  in  an  uncomfortable  hurry 
of  bustling  energ)'.  What  a  curiously  differ- 
ent life  that  will  be  when  there  is  no  such 
thing  as  late  or  early,  long  or  short,  quick  or 
slow.     An  unruffled  current  of  experience  will 


just  flow  on  at  leisure.  It  is  likely  there  will 
be  changes  and  all  sorts  of  variety,  but  we 
shall  enjoy  whatever  we  have  clear  up  to  the 
crisis  upon  which  the  next  gift  of  God's  love 
is  to  come  in.  No  apprehensions  will  disturb 
our  content.  Time  will  not  be  standing 
greedily  behind  us,  ready  to  swing  the  scythe. 
There  will  be  no  waste  of  duration  in  simply 
propelling  wheels  to  show  how  it  runs  on. 
Everything  will  be  ours,  for  even  death  will 
be  dead.  We  shall  never  more  be  hurried 
with  the  remembrance  that  if  we  are  belated 
we  shall  lose  something.  There  will  be  some 
tranquility  and  restful  peace. 

1 85  Home  Hymn.  S.  M. 

The  day  is  past  and  gone, 
The  evening  shades  appear  : 

Oh,  may  we  all  remember  well 
The  night  of  death  draws  near! 

•V  2  We  lay  our  garments  by, 

Upon  our  beds  to  rest ; 
So  aeath  will  soon  disrobe  us  all 
Of  w'hat  we  here  possessed. 

3  Lord,  keep  us  safe  this  night, 
Secure  from  all  our  fears ; 

May  angels  guard  us  while  we  sleep, 
Till  morning  light  appears. 

4  And  when  we  early  rise, 
And  view  the  unwearied  sun, 

May  we  set  out  to  win  the  prize. 
And  after  glory  run. 

5  And  when  our  days  are  past, 
And  we  from  time  remove, 

Oh,  may  we  in  thy  bosom  rest. 
The  bosom  of  thy  love  ! 

The  author  of  this'hymn  was  a  noted  Bap- 
tist minister  who  lived  in  Virginia  during  the 
years  from  1775  to  1790.  Almost  all  we  have 
of  his  career  is  contained  in  his  autobiography 
published  in  1845,  as  an  interesting  and  quaint 
account  of  a  very  remarkable  man.  This  vol- 
ume contained  some  of  his  writings  in  prose 
and  poetry ;  among  these  can  be  found  the 
original  form  of  the  hymn  before  us,  with 
other  hymns  also  ;  but  this  one  is  almost  the 
only  one  which  the  churches  have  kept  widely 
in  use.  It  is  really  ver\'  beautiful  in  its  lefty 
faith  and  unaffected  simplicity.  Many  of  us 
in  New  England  sang  it  for  years  at  the  fam- 
ily altar  when  Sabbath  evening  came  around, 
and  it  speaks  memories  of  other  days  when 
we  teach  our  children  to  sing  it  now.  May  it 
live  for  ever  and  ever ! 

The  Rev.  John  Leland  was  born  in  Grafton, 
Mass.,  May  14,  1754.  The  description  of  his 
person  has  come  down  to  us,  and  some  of  his 
ordinary  traits  of  character.  He  was  in  his 
later  life  "  tall,  muscular,  and  commanding ; 
age  had  bent  him  slightly,  but  that  added  to 
his  patriarchal  venerableness.  He  had  a  noble 
head,  a  high,  expanded,  and  somewhat  retreat- 


CLOSE  OF  SERVICE. 


87 


ingf  forehead,  a  nose  a  little  aquiline,  and  a 
bright,  beautiful,  sparkling  blue  eye,  the  ex- 
pression of  which,  especially  in  the  pulpit,  was 
electrical ;  even  eighty-seven  years  had  not 
dimmed  it.  In  his  manners  and  personal  in- 
tercourse he  was  plain,  courteous,  and  digni- 
fied. He  was  bland  and  kind  to  all.  No  man 
could  approach  him  with  a  rude  familiarity." 
It  is  added  also  that  he  was  a  man  of  ready 
wit  and  almost  boundless  eccentricity,  but 
devout  and  solemn  in  prayer.  At  one  period 
of  his  life  he  appears  to  have  had  considerable 
political  influence — enough  indeed  to  have  it 
recorded  that  he  aided  in  the  election  of  James 
Madison  over  Patrick  Henry  to  the  Virginia 
Convention.  This  excellent  man  died  at  North 
Adams,  Mass.,  January  14,  1841. 

1 86  "  Closing  Hour."  S.  M. 

Lord,  at  this  closing  hour. 

Establish  every  heart     • 
Upon  thy  word  t.f  truth  and  power, 

To  keep  us  when  we  part. 

2  Peace  to  our  brethren  give ; 
Fill  all  our  hearts  with  love  ; 

'j  In  faith  and  patience  may  we  live. 

And  seek  our  rest  above. 

3  Through  changes,  bright  or  drear, 
We  would  thy  will  pursue, 

And  toil  to  spread  thy  kingdom  here 
Till  we  its  glory  view. 

4  To  God,  the  only  wise, 
In  every  age  adored, 

Let  glory  from  the  church  arise 
Through  Je^us  Christ  our  Lord  I 

The  Rev.  Eleazer  Thompson  Fitch,  D.  D., 
was  one  of  the  compilers  of  the  hymnal  pre- 
pared by  the  order  of  General  Association  of 
the  Congregational  body  in  Connecticut ;  and 
in  that  book  six  of  his  compositions  appeared, 
of  which  this  was  one.  He  was  born  at  New 
Haven,  Conn.,  January  x,  1791,  and  was  grad- 
uated at  Yale  College  in  the  class  of  18 10. 
Then  he  spent  some  little  time  in  teaching ; 
but  in  18 1 2  he  became  a  theological  student 
in  Andover  Seminary.  Dr.  Timothy  Dwight's 
death  left  the  chair  of  Sacred  Theology  in 
Yale  College  vacant,  and  in  1817  Dr.  Fitch 
was  chosen  to  fill  his  place.  The  number  of 
graduates  under  his  instruction  grew  so  rap- 
idly that,  at  his  suggestion,  the  corporation 
founded  a  theological  department,  which  was 
organized  into  what  is  called  a  Divinity  School 
in  1822.  He  became  the  Professor  of  Homi- 
letics,  and  at  the  same  time  was  the  college 
preacher  and  pastor.  His  theological  views 
were  strongly  pronounced,  and  ultimately  drew 
upon  him  considerable  animadversion  from 
those  who  were  more  conservative  in  senti- 
ment.    But  he  kept  his  office  as  lecturer  until 


1 86 1,  and  subsequently  was  retained  in  the 
faculty  of  the  Divinity  School  as  emeritus- 
professor  until  he  died,  January  31,  1871,  at 
New  Haven.  A  volume  of  his  sermons  was 
published  that  same  year.  He  was  a  man  of 
singular  modesty,  without  any  sig^  of  contro- 
versy in  his  disposition. 

1 87  Sabbath  ended.  S.  M. 

The  day  of  praise  is  done, 

The  evening  shadows  fall  ; 
Yet  pass  not  from  us  with  the  sun. 

True  Light  that  lightenest  all  1 

2  Around  thy  throne  on  high, 
Where  night  can  never  be, 

The  white-robed  harpers  of  the  sky 
Bring  ceaseless  hymns  to  thee. 

3  Too  faint  our  anthems  here  ; 
Too  soon  of  praise  we  tire  ; 

But  oh,  the  strains  how  full  and  clear 
Of  that  eternal  choir! 

4  Yet,  Lord  !  to  thy  dear  will 
If  thou  attune  the  heart, 

We  in  thine  angels'  music  still 
May  bear  our  lower  part. 

5  Shine  thou  within  us,  then, 
A  day  that  knows  no  end, 

■    Till  songs  of  angels  and  of  men 
In  perfect  praise  shall  blend. 

This  is  a  very  beautiful  hymn  by  Rev.  John 
EUerton.  The  first  line  sometimes  is  written, 
"  Our  day  of  praise  is  done."  It  is  an  admira- 
ble song  for  the  close  of  public  worship. 
There  is  no  service  like  that  of  God,  no  house 
more  comfortable  than  his,  no  peace  like  that 
he  bestows.  In  the  hurries  of  our  modem 
church-life  much  labor  is  driven  into  the  hours 
of  the  day  which  was  meant  to  be,  more  fully 
than  it  is  suffered  to  be,  the  "  day  of  rest  "  for 
the  soul  and  body  too.  But,  by  the  gjace  of 
God,  rests  are  allowed  along  the  way  even 
when  one  is  passing  through  the  valley  of 
Baca.  Shadows  of  the  great  rock  in  the  wea- 
ry land  may  be  discovered  even  close  by  the 
spots  where  balsam-trees  weep  tears.  Nota- 
ble seasons  of  remembrance  have  we  all  of 
halts  for  refreshment  we  have  already  enjoyed. 
We  could  tell  bright  stories  about  them  if  we 
would.  Somewhere  we  have  read  that  a  com- 
pany of  travel-worn  Indians  were  fleeing  from 
their  foes  through  a  desolate  region  of  our  own 
country  in  the  Southwest.  Suddenly  they 
came  upon  a  beautiful  spring  in  the  waste. 
Their  chief  struck  his  spear  in  the  sward,  cry- 
ing, "  Alabama  /  Alabama  /"  Here  let  us 
rest!  let  us  rest!  Thus  could  the  soul  of 
each  believer  recount  the  incidents  of  his  trav- 
erse, and  learn  to  put  new  names  on  the  spir- 
itual map  he  cherishes.  Here  he  has  no  con- 
tinuing city ;  he  seeks  one  to  come. 


CLOSE  OF  SERVICE. 


138  Doxology.  S.  M. 

To  God  the  only  wise, 

Who  keeps  us  by  his  word, 
Be  glory  now  and  evermore, 

Through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 

2  Hosanna  to  the  Word 
Who  from  the  Father  came  ; 

Ascribe  salvation  to  the  Lord, 
And  ever  bless  his  name. 

3  The  grace  of  Christ  our  Lord, 
The  Father's  boundless  love, 

,    The  Spirit's  blest  communion,  too. 
Be  with  us  from  above. 

This  hymn,  in  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  Book  I., 
No.  51,  is  called  "Preserving  Grace,"  with  a 
reference  to  Jude  24,  25,  and  prepared  to  be 
sung  at  the  close  of  a  sermon  on  that  theme. 
The  piece  before  us  is  made  up  of  two  stanzas 
out  of  the  original  five,  vi'ith  the  short  meter 
doxology  added. 


189 


"  Guard  and  save.'' 


7s,  6s,  8s. 


The  day  is  past  and  over ; 

All  thanks,  O  Lord  !  to  thee  ; 
We  pray  thee  now  that  sinless 

The  hours  of  dark  may  be  ; 
O  Jesus  !  keep  us  in  thy  sight. 
And  save  us  through  the  coming  night. 
I 

2  The  joys  of  day  are  over ; 
We  lift  our  hearts  to  thee. 

And  ask  thee  that  oflFenceless 
The  hours  of  dark  may  be  ; 
O  Jesus  !  make  their  darkness  light. 
And  save  us  through  the  coming  night. 

3  The  toils  of  day  are  over  ; 
We  raise  our  hymn  to  thee. 

And  ask  that  free  from  peril 

The  hours  of  dark  may  be  ; 
O  Jesus  !  keep  us  in  thy  sight. 
And  guard  us  through  the  coming  night. 

4  Be  thou  our  souls'  preserver, 
O  Cod  !  for  thou  dost  know 

How  many  are  the  perils 

Through  which  we  have  to  go  ; 
O  loving  Jesus  !  hear  our  call, 
And  guard  and  save  us  from  them  all. 

This  is  a  translation  by  Dr.  John  Mason 
Neale  from  Anatolius,  one  of  the  Greek  hymn- 
writers  about  whom  very  little  is  known, 
though  he  is  said  to  have  been  a  pupil  of 
Theodore  of  the  Stadium  who  lived  at  the 
close  of  the  eighth  century  and  beginning  of 
the  ninth.  More  than  a  hundred  of  his  hymns 
e.xist,  and  have  been  attributed  to  St.  Anato- 
lius, the  Bishop  of  Constantinople,  who  died 
in  458 :  hence  as  some  of  them  celebrate 
martyrs  who  suffered  in  the  sixth  and  the 
early  part  of  the  seventh  century,  the  claim  is 
proved  erroneous.  This  piece  is  a  great  fa- 
vorite in  the  Greek  Isles,  the  melody  to  which 
it  is  there  usually  sung  being  singularly  plain- 
tive and  soothing. 


I  90  "  Into  thy  hands  /"  P.  M. 

The  sun  is  sinking  fast. 

The  daylight  dies  ; 
Let  love  awake,  and  pay 

Her  evening  sacrifice. 

2  As  Christ  upon  the  cross 
His  head  inclined, 

And  to  his  Father's  hands 
His  parting  soul  resigned — 

3  So  now  herself  my  soul 
Would  wholly  give 

Into  his  sacred  charge. 
In  whom  all  spirits  live. 

4  Thus  would  I  live ;  yet  now 
Not  I,  but  he 

In  all  his  power  and  love 
Henceforth  alive  in  me. 

5  One  sacred  Trinity  ! 
One  Lord  divine  ! 

May  I  be  ever  his, 
And  he  for  ever  mine. 

The  original  of  this  hymn  cannot  be  dis- 
covered at  present,  but  it  is  supposed  to  have 
been  no  older  than  the  eighteenth  century. 
Mr.  Edward  Caswall,  the  translator,  found 
the  Latin  poem  in  a  foreign  collection,  a  small 
book  of  devotions,  the  very  name  of  which 
has  escaped  him.  The  beauty  of  the  English 
version  increases  the  regret  at  the  loss  of  the 
Latin  original.  The  sentiment  which  is 
voiced  by  these  stanzas  is  verj*  subtle  and 
even  mystic.  The  picture  of  our  Lord  in  the 
very  act  of  crucifixion  is  thrown  before  our 
imagination.  The  gesture  of  Jesus,  as  he 
"  bowed  his  head  and  gave  up  the  ghost,"  is 
employed  to  signify  our  own  surrender  of  our 
spirits  into  the  eternal  Father's  hands.  Hence 
a  religious  exercise  is  suggested  of  the  inten- 
sest  kind,  a  direct  proffer  of  our  entire  being 
to  our  Lord  in  a  union  that  shall  be  ever  and 
for  ever  binding.  So  at  the  close  of  evening 
worship  a  believer  once  more  covenants  in  the 
secret  reserv^fes  of  his  inner  life,  and  goes  forth 
to  loving  duty. 


1 9 1  Evening. 

Softly  now  the  light  of  day 
Fades  upon  my  sight  away  ; 
Free  from  care,  from  labor  free. 
Lord,  I  would  commune  with  thee. 

2  Thou,  whose  all-pervading  eye 
Naught  escapes  without,  within. 
Pardon  each  infirmity, 

Open  fault,  and  secret  sin. 

3  Soon,  for  me,  the  light  of  day 
Shall  for  ever  pass  away  ; 
Then,  from  sin  and  sorrow  free, 
Take  me.  Lord,  to  dwell  with  thee. 

4  Thou  who,  sinless,  yet  hast  known, 
AH  of  man's  infirmity  ; 

Then  from  thine  eternal  throne, 
Jesus,  look  with  pitying  eye. 


7S. 


CLOSE  OF  SERVICE. 


89 


a^-'s^'. 


GEORGK  WASHINGTON  DOANE. 

Rev.  George  Washington  Doane,  D.  D., 
LL.  D.,  was  born  in  Trenton,  N.  J.,  May  27, 
1799.  He  was  graduated  from  Union  Col- 
lege, in  Schenectady,  N.  Y.,  in  1818,  and  was 
ordained  to  the  Christian  ministry  in  1821. 
He  became  an  assistant  in  the  parish  of  Trin- 
ity Church,  in  New  York  city,  but  in  1825  he 
was  chosen  Professor  of  Rhetoric  and  Belles- 
Lettres  in  what  was  then  Washington  College. 
He  was  elected  in  1828  the  rector  of  Trinity 
Episcopal  Church  in  Boston  ;  four  years  after- 
wards he  became  the  bishop  of  the  Protestant 
Episcopal  diocese  of  New  Jersey.  He  died 
in  Burlington,  N.  J.,  April  27,  1859.  Dr. 
Doane  was  prominent  in  what  is  known  in 
that  denomination  as  the  High  Church  party ; 
he  was  energetic  and  indefatigable  as  a  prop- 
agandist, and  hence  had  many  bitter  enemies 
and  was  obliged  to  endure  and  conduct  many 
controversies.  Under  the  title  of  T^e  Life 
and  Writvigs  of  G.  IV.  Doane,  D.  D.,  his 
works  in  prose  and  poetry  were  collected  and 
published,  i860,  in  four  volumes,  edited  by 
his  son  ;  and  afterwards  by  the  same  in  1875 
appeared  an  edition  of  his  Songs  by  the  Way. 
In  this  last  book  the  present  hymn  was  found ; 
it  is  entitled  "  Evening,"  and  to  it  is  annexed 
as  a  text  Psalm  141:2.  It  is  weakened  by 
the  addition  of  the  fourth  stanza,  which  is 
omitted  in  the  Methodist  Hymnal  and  some 
others. 

192  "Foretastes."  JS. 

For  the  mercies  of  the  day, 
For  this  rest  upon  our  way. 
Thanks  to  thee  alone  be  given, 
Lord  of  earth  and  King  of  heaven  ! 


2  Cold  our  services  have  been. 
Mingled  every  prayer  with  sin: 
But  thou  canst  and  wilt  forgive  ; 
By  thy  grace  alone  we  live. 

3  While  this  thorny  path  we  tread. 
May  thy  love  our  footsteps  lead  ; 
When  our  journey  here  is  past, 
May  we  rest  with  thee  at  last. 

4  Let  these  earthly  Sabbaths  prove 
Foretastes  of  our  joys  above, 
While  their  steps  thy  children  bend 
To  the  rest  which  knows  no  end. 

The  devotion  and  reverence  expressed  in 
this  simple  yet  beautiful  vesper  hymn  clear- 
ly show  the  spirit  and  mind  of  the  writer, 
concerning  whom  comparatively  nothing  is 
known.  It  has  been  credited  to  James  Mont- 
gomery and  to  Baptist  W.  Noel ;  but  neither 
of  these  authors  has  ever  claimed  it.  In  1826 
a  small  publication  was  issued  called  the 
Missionary  Minstrel ;  the  editor  gave,  instead 
of  his  name,  only  an  uninterpreted  brace  of 
letters,  which  may  have  been  his  initials,  "  O. 
P."  This  hymn  in  particular  is  marked  as 
one  of  the  editor's  contributions,  and  bears 
the  same  letters  annexed  to  it.  Beyond  this 
no  information  has  ever  been  obtained. 

1 93  Closing  Benediction.  7s. 

Now  may  he  who  from  the  dead 
Brought  the  Shepherd  of  the  sheep, 

Jesus  Christ,  our  King  and  Head, 
All  our  souls  in  safety  keep. 

2  May  he  teach  us  to  fulfill 

What  is  pleasing  in  his  sight ; 
Perfect  us  in  all  his  will, 

And  preserve  us  day  and  night. 

The  original  of  this  benediction  appeared 
in  1779  in  the  Olney  Hymns,  Book  III.  Its 
author  was  Rev.  John  Newton,  and  there 
were  three  stanzas,  of  which  two  are  here 
given.  It  is  a  poetic  rendering  of  the  words 
of  the  apostle  Paul,  Hebrews  13:20,  21. 
"  Now  the  God  of  peace,  that  brought  again 
from  the  dead  our  Lord  Jesus,  that  great 
Shepherd  of  the  sheep,  through  the  blood  of 
the  everlasting  covenant,  make  you  perfect  in 
every  good  work  to  do  his  will,  working  in 
you  that  which  is  well  pleasing  in  his  sight, 
through  Jesus  Christ ;  to  whom  be  glory  for 
ever  and  ever.     Amen." 

194  Doxology.  8s,  7S. 

Praise  the  God  of  our  salvation ; 

Praise  the  Father's  boundless  love  ; 
Praise  the  Lamb,  our  expiation  ; 

Praise  the  Spirit  from  above: 

2  Author  of  the  new  creation, 
Him  by  whom  our  spirits  live  ; 

Undivided  adoration 
To  the  one  Jehovah  give  1 

Josiah  Conder  was  a  layman,  belonging  to 
the  Congregational  denomination  in  England. 


90 


CLOSE   OF   SERVICE. 


He  was  a  voluminous  author,  and  himself  in 
the  year  1836  issued  a  hymn-book  bearing 
the  name  of  his  church,  and  meant  to  supply 
the  wants  of  singing  saints  wherever  it  would 
be  welcomed  as  a  manual  of  song.  He  was 
born  in  London,  September  17,  1789;  at  five 
years  of  age  he  was  inoculated  for  small-pox ; 
and,  through  some  sort  of  ill-working  of  the 
precaution,  he  thus  lost  the  sight  of  one  of  his 
eyes,  and  was  sent  to  Hackney  to  be  treated 
by  electricity  lest  he  should  be  so  unfortunate 
as  to  be  deprived  of  the  other.  There  the 
surgeon  came  to  be  his  teacher,  giving  him  a 
course  of  Latin  and  French  study,  and  ulti- 
mately moving  him  along  with  other  branches 
of  learning  till,  when  he  was  fifteen  years  old, 
he  became  his  father's  assistant  in  a  metro- 
politan book-store.  This  made  him  intelli- 
gent, and  gave  him  a  taste  as  well  as  a  long- 
ing if  or  literature.  In  company  with  some 
few  friends  of  like  gifts  and  ambitions  he  pub- 
lished in  1 8 10  a  small  volume  of  verse  entitled 
The  Associate  Minstrels,  which  ran  to  a  sec- 
ond edition  in  181 2.  Two  years  subsequent 
to  this  Mr.  Conder  purchased  the  Eclectic 
Review  and  became  its  editor  until  1837. 
During  this  period  he  was  in  close  association 
with  some  of  the  best  literary  people  of  that 
day,  and  was  occupied  with  composition  and 
publication  of  many  works  of  his  own  both 
in  poetry  and  prose.  He  wrote  mostly  upon 
religious  topics  ;  with  an  elevated  ambition  to 
be  useful  he  entered  into  the  spirit  of  the  times 
in  which  he  lived,  and  took  prominent  part  in 
some  of  the  sharp  debates  which  were  held 
concerning  the  vexed  questions  that  agitated 
the  non-conforming  churches.  In  1832  he 
became  the  editor  also  of  The  Patriot ;  the 
issue  of  this  he  continued  until  the  year  of  his 
death.  Of  the  denominational  hymnal,  The 
Congregational  Hymn-Book,  a  Supplement  to 
Watts,  1836,  containing  sixty-two  composi- 
tions of  his  own,  and  four  by  his  wife,  a  col- 
lection so  meritorious  according  to  the  stand- 
ard of  those  times  as  to  mark  a  decided  ad- 
vance in  tastefulness  and  devotion,  there  were 
sold  ninety  thousand  copies  in  seven  years ; 
and  the  book  remained  the  official  manual  of 
praise  in  that  communion  till  the  year  1859. 
This  author  died  in  St.  John's  Wood  in  Lon- 
don, December  27,  1855.  He  was  of  essen- 
tial help  to  our  modern  hymnolog^ ;  he  made 
many  and  felicitous  emendations  of  the  rough 
poetry  that  went  before  him  into  the  congre- 
gations ;  people  blamed  him  for  destroying 
their  favorite  expressions ;  but  the  future  col- 
lections took  his  changes  cheerfully,  and  found 
no  fault  with  the  fearlessness  which  gave 
them  better  hymns. 


195 


'■Day  is  Dying-." 


P.  M. 


Day  is  dying  in  the  west ; 
Heaven  is  touching  earth  with  rest: 
Wait  and  worship  while  the  night 
Sets  her  evening  lamps  alight 

Through  all  the  sky. 
Cho.—  Holy,  holy, 'holy,  Lord  God  of  Hosts  ! 
Heaven  and  earth  are  full  of  thee ! 
Heaven  and  earth  are  praising  thee, 

O  Lord  most  high  ! 

2  Lord  of  life,  beneath  the  dome 
Of  the  Universe,  thy  home, 
Gather  us  who  seek  thy  face 
To  the  fold  of  thy  embrace, 
For  thou  art  nigh.— CAo. 

[3  While  the  deepenitig  shadows  fall, 
Heart  of  Love,  enfoUUng  all, 
Through  the  glory  and  tlie  grace 
Of  the  stars  that  vail  thy  face 
Our  hearts  ascend. — Cho. 

4  When  for  ever  from  thy  sight 
Pass  the  stars,  the  day,  the  night, 
Lord  of  angels,  on  our  eyes 
Let  eternal  morning  rise 
And  shadows  end. — Cho-I 


MISS   MARY   A.    LATHBURY. 


To  a  Chautauquan  the  "  Vesper  Service  " 
seems  incomplete  without  the  singing  of  this 
beautiful  hymn.  It  was  written  at  the  request 
of  Bishop  John  H.  Vincent  in  the  summer  of 
1880,  and  it  is  frequently  sung  at  the  close  of 
the  day,  when  the  vast  company  of  gradu- 
ates, students,  and  visitors  are  assembled  for 
evening  prayer.  No  one  who  has  ever  lis- 
tened to  the  mighty  volume  of  song,  as  five 
thousand  persons  at  a  time,  gathered  around 
the  representatives  of  the  "  Literary  and  Sci- 
entific Circle"  in  the  open  Hall  under  the 
trees,  aid  to  swell  the  strong  chords  of  Pro- 
fessor Sherwin's  matchless  tune,  "  Evening 
Praise  "  —  no  one  will  forget  thereafter  the 
impression  he  received  of  the  power  of  such 
words  borne  upward  by  such  music. 

Miss  Mary  Artemisia  Lathbury  is  now  re- 
siding with  her  sister  in  New  York  city.  Fellow 


CLOSE  OF   SERVICE. 


91 


artists  and  writers  by  profession,  these  two  la- 
dies occupy  one  studio,  and  tiiey  make  it  a  wel- 
come and  remembered  place  to  visit,  with  the 
evidences  around  them  of  taste  and  thought 
and  poetry.  The  author  of  these  verses  was 
born  in  Manchester,  Ontario  County,  N.  Y., 
August  lo,  1841.  Her  father  was  a  minister 
in  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  in  which 
communion  the  daughter  also  remained  until 
two  years  ago,  1890,  when  she  connected  her- 
self with  the  New  Jerusalem  Church ;  not 
that  she  "  believed  less,"  but  that  she  "  be- 
lieves more  now."  She  is  a  well-known  wri- 
ter of  hymns,  and  a  contributor  to  many 
American  religious  periodicals.  She  will  be 
equally  remembered,  however,  as  the  founder 
of  the  "  Look-out  Legion,"  which  is  based 
upon  Rev.  Edward  Everett  Hale's  rules : 

"  Look  up,  and  not  down  ; 
Look  forward,  and  not  back  ; 
Look  out,  and  not  in. 
And  lend  a  hand — In  His  Name." 

As  to  the  present  condition  of  this  popular 
hymn,  which  is  now  finding  its  way  into  the 
hymnals  over  the  country,  it  needs  to  be  said 
that  the  author  has,  since  its  earliest  publica- 
tion, added  two  stanzas  to  the  original  piece. 
These  we  have  obtained  the  permission  of 
Dr.  Vincent,  courteously  granted,  to  print  as 
we  have  done  in  brackets,  in  connection  with 
the  others.  The  work  was  finished  so  recently 
that  we  could  not  introduce  them  into  Laudes 
Dotnini  without  destroying  uniformity. 

1 96  Separation.  7S. 

For  a  season  called  to  part, 
Let  us  now  ourselves  commend 

To  the  gracious  eye  and  heart 
Of  our  ever-present  Friend. 

2  Jesus,  hear  our  humble  prayer ; 
Tender  Shepherd  of  thy  sheep  I 

Let  thy  mercy  and  thy  care 
All  our  souls  in  safety  keep. 

3  In  thy  strength  may  we  be  strong  ; 
Sweeten  every  cross  and  pain  : 

Give  us,  if  we  live,  ere  long 
Here  to  meet  in  peace  again. 

This  hymn  contains  only  the  last  three 
stanzas  of  a  piece  composed  by  Rev.  John 
Newton.  In  Bull's  life  of  the  author  we  find 
this  incident  recorded  :  "  In  November  (1776) 
Mr.  Newton  underwent  an  operation  for  a 
tumor  in  his  thigh.  He  was  mercifully 
brought  through  it,  and  was  very  soon  able  to 
resume  his  ordinary  duties.  On  this  occasion 
he  composed  Hymn  71,  Book  II.,  in  the  Olney 
Hymns."  This  is  the  hymn  referred  to  above, 
or  rather  the  latter  part  of  it ;  for  the  original 
had  six  stanzas  and  was  entitled  "  Parting." 
The  first  line  was,  "As  the  sun's  enlivening 


eye."     The  hymn  is   found  in  a  few  collec- 
tions both  in  Great  Britain  and  America. 

1 97  Hymn  at  Parting.  7s. 

Thou,  from  whom  we  never  part, 
Thou,  whose  love  is  everywhere, 

Thou,  who  seest  every  heart. 
Listen  to  our  evening  prayer. 

2  Father,  fill  our  hearts  with  love, 
Love  unfailing,  full,  and  free; 

Love  that  no  alarm  can  move. 
Love  that  ever  rests  on  thee. 

3  Heavenly  Father !  through  the  night 
Keep  us  safe  from  every  ill ; 

Cheerful  as  the  morning  light. 
May  we  wake  to  do  thy  will. 

The  author  of  this  hymn,  Mrs.  Eliza  Lee 
FoUen,  has  written  extensively  for  children 
both  in  poetry  and  prose.  It  was  in  one  of 
these  books,  The  Lark  and  the  Linnet,  pub- 
lished in  1854,  that  this  piece  first  appeared. 
Her  hymns  and  writings  for  adults  have  also 
been  widely  sung  and  read.  She  was  the 
daughter  of  Samuel  Cabot,  and  was  born  in 
Boston,  August  15,  1787.  In  1828  she  mar- 
ried Prof.  Charles  Follen,  a  teacher  of  ecclesi- 
astical history,  ethics  and  German,  at  Cam- 
bridge, Mass.,  who  was  also  the  pastor  of  the 
Unitarian  Society  at  East  Lexington.  Prof. 
Follen  came  to  America  in  1825,  and  was  a 
firm  advocate  of  civil  and  religious  liberty. 
He  met  his  death  on  board  the  "  Lexington," 
which  was  burned  in  Long  Island  Sound, 
January  13,  1840.  His  wife  died  twenty 
years  after,  in  Brookline,  Mass.,  January  26, 
i860. 

1 98  "£■>■<?  we  go."  L.  M.,  61. 

Sweet  Saviour,  bless  us  ere  we  go  : 

Thy  word  into  our  minds  instill  : 
And  make  our  lukewarm  hearts  to  glow 

With  lowly  love  and  fervent  will. 

Ref. — Through  life's  long  day, 
And  death's  dark  night, 
O  gentle  Jesus,  be  our  light. 

2  The  day  is  gone,  its  hours  have  run, 
And  thou  hast  taken  count  of  all. 

The  scanty  triumphs  grace  hath  won. 
The  broken  vow,  the  frequent  fall. — Ref. 

3  Grant  us,  dear  Lord,  from  evil  ways 
True  absolution  and  release  ; 

And  bless  us  more  than  in  past  days 
With  purity  and  inward  peace. — Ref. 

4  Do  more  than  pardon  ;  give  us  joy, 
Sweet  fear,  and  sober  liberty. 

And  simple  hearts  without  alloy 
That  only  long  to  be  like  thee.— Ref. 

5  For  all  we  love,  the  poor,  the  sad, 
The  sinful  imto  thee  we  call ; 

Oh,  let  thy  mercy  make  us  glad  : 
Thou  art  our  Jesus  and  our  all. — Ref. 

Brief  mention  only  is  made  by  the  various 
English  hymnologists  of  Rev.  Frederick  Wil- 
liam  Faber's  beautiful   Evening   Hymn.     It 


92 


CLOSE   OF   SERVICE. 


first  appeared  in  1852  and  was  entitled  Eve- 
ning Hymn  at  the  Oratory  (of  St.  Philip, 
Neri).  It  has  been  altered  many  times,  but 
the  author  made  his  final  revision  of  it  in 
1861.  The  piece  has  six  stanzas,  only  five  of 
which  appear,  and  it  has  been  deemed  worthy 
a  place  among  the  Second  Rank  Hymns  of 
the  future  in  Anglican  Hymnology.  It  is  in 
common  use,  and  may  be  found  in  many 
Roman-catholic  as  well  as  Protestant  collec- 
tions. 

Dr.  Frederick  W.  Faber  was  born  at  Cal- 
verley  Vicarage,  Yorkshire,  June  28,  1814. 
He  was  an  ardent  and  impulsive  child,  eager 
for  study  and  fond  of  poetry.  He  received 
his  education  at  Balliol  College,  Oxford, 
whence  he  graduated  in  1836.  The  Univer- 
sity College  made  him  a  Fellow  in  1837,  after 
which  he  became  deacon  and  was  ordained 
as  a  presbyter.  A  long  tour  through  Europe 
followed.  On  his  return  to  England  in  1843 
he  became  rector  of  Elton,  Huntingdon- 
shire. About  this  time  he  wrote  several 
books  in  defence  of  the  Church  of  England ; 
but  he  was  a  friend  and  admirer  of  Cardinal 
Newman,  whose  life  and  writings  attracted 
him  irresistibly,  and  in  1846  he  renounced  his 
allegiance  to  Protestantism  and  became  a 
Roman-catholic.  He  journeyed  to  the  Holy 
City,  returning  shortly  to  Birmingham,  where 
he  founded  a  "Community."  In  1849  he 
went  to  London,  where  he  became  the  head 
of  the  "  Oratorians  "  or  "  Priests  of  the  Con- 
gregation of  St.  Philip,  Neri."  This  Oratory 
was  afterwards  removed  to  Brompton.  He 
died  when  but  forty-nine  years  old,  Septem- 
ber 26,  1863. 

1 99  Evening  Hymn.  7s,  5s. 

Holy  Father,  cheer  our  way 
With  thy  love's  perpetual  ray ; 
Grant  us,  every  closing  day, 
Light  at  evening  time. 

2  Holy  Saviour,  calm  our  fears 
When  earth's  brightness  disappears  ; 
Grant  us,  in  our  later  years. 

Light  at  evening  time. 

3  Holy  Spirit,  be  thou  nigh 
When  in  mortal  pains  we  lie  : 
Grant  us,  as  we  come  to  die. 

Light  at  evening  time. 

4  Holy,  blessed  Trinity ! 
Darkness  is  not  dark  with  thee ; 
Those  thou  keepest  always  see 

Light  at  eveinng  time. 

Very  little  was  known  of  this  author  until 
recently,  he  having  resolutely  evaded  pub- 
licity ;  but  a  few  facts  concerning  him  have 
come  to  us  which  may  be  considered  authen- 
tic. Rev.  Richard  Hayes  Robinson  was  born 
in  1842.  and  is  an  English  clergyman  of  the 


Established  Church.  Educated  at  King's 
College,  London,  he  took  holy  orders  and  be- 
came curate  of  St.  Paul's,  Penge.  In  1871  he 
was  transferred  to  Octagon  Chapel,  Bath. 
Subsequently  he  was  called  to  the  curacy  of 
Weston,  and  further  on  he  became  rector  of 
St.  Michael's,  Bath.  According  to  present 
information,  he  is  still  living  at  Sion-Hill 
Place,  Bath. 

Mr.  Robinson's  known  works  are  Sermons 
on  Faith  and  Duty,  and  The  Creed  and  the 
Age.  The  hymn  now  before  us  was  con- 
tributed to  the  Church  Hymns  of  the  "  Society 
for  Promoting  Christian  Knowledge  "in  1871 ; 
but  it  was  written  in  1869  especially  for  the 
congregation  of  St.  Paul's  Church,  Upper 
Norwood.  The  allusion  found  in  the  last 
line  of  each  stanza,  and  repeated  so  as  to 
form  a  sort  of  refrain,  is  to  Zechariah  14  : 6,  7  : 
"And  it  shall  come  to  pass  in  that  day,  that 
the  light  shall  not  be  clear,  nor  dark :  but  it 
shall  be  one  day  which  shall  be  known  to  the 
Lord,  not  day,  nor  night :  but  it  shall  come 
to  pass,  that  at  evening  time  it  shall  be 
light." 


200 


Constant  Devotion. 


L.  M.,  61. 


When,  streaming  from  the  eastern  skies, 
The  morning  light  salutes  mine  eyes, 
O  Sun  of  Righteousness  divine, 
On  me  with  beams  of  mercy  shine  ! 
Oh  !  chase  the  clouds  of  guilt  away. 
And  turn  my  darkness  into  day. 

2  And  when  to  heaven's  all-glorious  King 
My  morning  sacrifice  I  bring, 

And,  mourning  o'er  my  guilt  and  shame. 
Ask  mercy  in  my  Saviour's  name, 
Then,  Jesus,  cleanse  me  with  thy  blood, 
And  be  my  Advocate  with  God. 

3  When  each  day's  scenes  and  labors  close. 
And  wearied  nature  seeks  repose, 

With  pardoning  mercy  richly  blest, 
Guarcl  me,  my  Saviour,  while  I  rest ; 
And,  as  each  morning  sun  shall  rise, 
Oh,  lead  me  onward  to  the  skies  ! 

4  And  at  my  life's  last  setting  sun. 
My  conflicts  o'er,  my  labors  done, 
Jesus,  thy  heavenly  radiance  shed. 
To  cheer  and  bless  my  dying  bed  ; 
And  from  death's  gloom  my  si>irit  raise. 
To  see  thy  face  and  sing  thy  praise. 

Under  the  title  "  Daily  Duties,  Dependence, 
and  Enjoyment,"  with  the  text  Rom.  14:8, 
this  hymn  first  appeared  in  181 3,  in  the  Au- 
gust number  of  the  Christian  Observer.  It 
was  signed  "  Probus,"  and  has  been  at  times 
erroneously  attributed  to  Sir  Robert  Grant. 
The  real  author,  however,  was  William 
Shrubsole,  Jr.,  the  eldest  son  of  William 
Shrubsole,  a  master  rnast-maker  and  lay- 
preacher,  who  afterwards  became  the  regular 
minister  of  a  small  body  of  Dissenters  wor- 
shiping in  Bethel  Chapel. 


CLOSE  OF  SERVICE. 


93 


The  son  was  born  at  Sheerness,  in  the  Isle 
of  Sheppey,  Kent,  England,  November  21, 
1759.  He  followed  his  father's  trade  at  first, 
working  as  a  shipwright  in  Sheerness  Dock- 
yards. Eventually  he  became  a  clerk,  and 
was  appointed  to  a  position  in  the  Bank  of 
England,  where  he  was  gradually  advanced 
to  the  responsible  position  of  Secretary  of  the 
Committee  of  the  Treasury.  Though  as  a 
young  man  he  was  indifferent  to  the  religious 
mfluences  about  him,  under  the  ministry  of 
his  father's  friend  Mr.  Woodgate,  pastor  of 
Jewin  Street  Chapel,  the  tenor  of  his  thoughts 
changed,  and  in  1787  he  received  his  first 
communion  from  the  hands  of  his  father  at 
Sheerness.  In  1791  he  married  Miss  Morris, 
who  died  in  1810.  Two  years  later  he  went 
to  reside  within  the  walls  of  the  Bank  of 
England,  devoting  his  leisure  to  literature  and 
to  the  promotion  of  the  interests  of  great  reli- 
gious societies.  During  the  last  twenty  years 
of  his  life  he  was  connected  with  the  Con- 
gregational Church  which  held  its  services  in 
the  Hoxton  Academy  Chapel.  He  died  of 
apoplexy  at  Highbury,  August  23,  1829. 

20  i  Day  is  Over.  6s,  53. 

Now  the  day  is  over. 

Night  is  drawing  nigh, 
Shadows  of  the  evening 

Steal  across  the  sky. 

2  Jesus,  give  the  weary 
Calm  and  sweet  repose  ; 

With  thy  tenderest  blessing 
May  our  eyelids  close. 

3  Grant  to  little  children 
Visions  bright  of  thee  ; 

Guard  the  sailors  tossing 
On  the  deep  blue  sea. 

4  Through  the  long  night-watches 
May  thine  angels  spread    • 

Their  white  wings  above  me, 
Watching  round  my  bed. 

5  When  the  morning  wakens. 
Then  may  I  arise, 

Pure  and  fresh  and  sinless 
In  thy  holy  eyes. 

Not  only  as  a  writer  of  original  hymns,  but 
as  a  learned  mediasvalist,  and  as  a  translator, 
is  Rev.  Sabine  Baring-Gould  known  to  us. 
He  was  born  at  Exeter,  January  28,  1834,  and 
is  the  eldest  son  of  Mr.  Edward  Baring-Gould 
of  Lew  Trenchard,  Devon.  He  received  his 
education  at  Clare  College,  Cambridge,  taking 
the  degree  of  B.  A.  in  1854,  and  that  of  M.  A. 
in  1856.  After  his  ordination  in  1864  he  be- 
came the  curate  of  Horbury,  near  Wakefield. 
Here  he  remained  for  three  years,  becoming 
thereafter  incumbent  of  Dalton,  Yorks,  1867; 
rector  of  East  Mersea,  Essex,  1871 ;  and  rector 
of  Lew  Trenchard,  Devon,  1881. 


REV.   S.   BARING-GOULD. 


The  hymn  above  quoted  is  known  as  the 
"  Evening  Hymn  for  Missions,"  and  has  been 
in  use  for  several  years  at  St.  John's,  Hor- 
bury Bridge.  It  has  a  place  in  many  English 
and  American  hymnals.  This  author  has 
written  and  published  many  volumes,  among 
which  may  be  noted  Curious  Myths  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  1866  ;  Lives  of  the  Saints,  iSyy  ; 
Church  Songs,  1884.  He  contributed  also 
nine  carols  to  an  article  which  appeared  in 
the  Sacristy  for  November,  1 87 1 ,  entitled  The 
Noels  and  Carols  of  French  Flanders.  Be- 
sides these  he  has  written  a  novel  in  German 
and  translated  it  into  English. 


202 


Evening  blessing. 


8s,  7s.  D. 


Saviour,  breathe  an  evening  blessing. 

Ere  repose  our  spirits  seal ; 
Sin  and  want  we  come  confessing; 

Thou  canst  save,  and  tliou  canst  heal. 
Though  destruction  walk  around  us. 

Though  the  arrow  near  us  fly, 
Angel  guards  from  thee  surround  us, 

VVe  are  safe  if  thou  art  nigh. 

2  Though  the  night  be  dark  and  dreary, 

Darkness  cannot  hide  from  thee  ; 
Thou  art  he  who,  never  weary, 

Watchelh  where  thy  people  be. 
Should  swift  death  this  night  o'ertake  us, 

And  our  couch  become  our  tomb, 
May  the  morn  in  heaven  awake  us. 

Clad  in  light  and  deathless  bloom. 

This  is  another  of  James  Edmeston's 
hymns,  whose  sweet  words  have  been  sung 
by  thousands  of  believers.  It  was  first  printed 
in  a  volume  of  Sacred  Lyrics  in  1820,  and  for 
many  years  it  was  sung  at  the  close  of  divine 
service  in  the  church  at  Homerton,  where  its 
author  used  to  attend.  Hymriologists  say 
that  the  idea  of  this  hymn  was  suggested  to 
the  author  after  he  had  read  Salt's  Travels  in 


94 


CLOSE  OF  SERVICE. 


Abyssinia,  wherein  occur  these  words :  "  At 
night  their  short  evening  hymn,  '  Jesus,  for- 
give us,'  stole  through  the  camp." 


203 


The  Pilgrim. 


s,  7S.  D. 


Gently,  Lord,  oh,  gently  lead  us, 

Through  this  lonely  vale  of  tears  ; 
Through  the  changes  thou  'st  decreed  us, 

Till  our  last  great  change  appears. 
When  temptation's  darts  assail  us, 

When  in  devious  paths  we  stray. 
Let  thy  goodness  never  fail  us, 

Lead  us  in  thy  perfect  way. 

2  In  the  hour  of  pain  and  anguish, 

In  the  hour  when  death  draws  near, 
Suffer  not  our  hearts  to  languish, 

Suffer  not  our  souls  to  fear. 
And  when  mortal  life  is  ended. 

Bid  us  in  thine  arms  to  rest, 
Till,  by  angel  bands  attended, 

We  awake  among  the  blest. 

Most  of  the  information  we  possess  con- 
cerning the  life  and  work  of  Thomas  Hast- 
ings, Mus.  Doc,  the  author  of  this  hymn,  is 
derived  now  from  an  article  published  origin- 
ally in  the  New  York  Evangelist  November 
21.  1872,  and  afterwards  reprinted  in  pamph- 
let form  for  private  distribution.  This  gives 
a  sketch  of  his  remarkable  career  as  a  music 
teacher  and  composer,  the  materials  of  which, 
as  we  are  informed  by  Mr.  A.  D.  F.  Ran- 
dolph, the  author  of  it,  were  drawn  from  some 
memoranda  Dr.  Hastings  himself  made  in 
1858.  In  these  he  offered  the  story  of  his  life 
with  the  simplicity,  modesty,  and  directness 
so  peculiar  to  him. 

The  writing  of  his  hymns  arose  naturally 
out  of  the  production  of  his  tunes.  As  he 
sang  the  music  it  actually  seemed  to  phrase 
words  for  the  fit  expression  of  the  notes. 
Hence  the  matter  aggregated  upon  his  hands. 
While  Songs  for  the  Sanctuary  was  coming 
into  existence,  and  afterwards  as  other  books 
issued  by  the  same  compiler  followed  on,  the 
carefully  prepared  copies  in  manuscript  of 
several  hundred  poetical  compositions  came 
into  his  hands  for  choice,  many  of  which  were 
at  that  time  first  introduced  to  the  singing 
people  of  God.  The  spirituality  and  deep  de- 
votion of  all  of  them,  and  all  that  Dr.  Hastings 
ever  wrote,  are  well  illustrated  in  this  hymn 
now  before  us.  He  accepted  the  guidance 
provided  for  him  by  the  mercy  and  grace  of 
God,  and  on  this  he  rested  for  life  and  death 
alike  calmly ;  his  poems  breathe  the  air  of 
heaven. 


204  Benediction. 

May  the  grace  of  Christ  our  Saviour, 
And  the  Father's  boundless  love, 

With  the  Holy  Spirit's  favor. 
Rest  upon  us  from  above  ! 


8s,  7s. 


2  Thus  may  we  abide  in  union 
With  each  other  and  the  Lord, 

And  possess,  in  sweet  communion, 
Joys  which  earth  cannot  afford. 

Another  of  Rev.  John  Newton's  poetic 
benedictions  is  here  given.  It  is  No.  loi  of 
the  Obiey  Hymns,  Book  III.,  and  is  a  favorite 
form  of  doxology.  It  first  appeared  in  1779, 
and  is  founded  upon  2  Corinthians  13:14: 
"  The  grace  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  the 
love  of  God,  and  the  communion  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  be  with  you  all.     Amen." 

205  Dismissal.  8s,  7s. 

Lord,  dismiss  us  with  thy  blessing  ; 

Bid  us  now  depart  in  peace ; 
Still  on  heavenly  manna  feeding. 

Let  our  faith  and  love  increase. 

2  Fill  each  breast  with  consolation  : 
Up  to  thee  our  hearts  we  raise  ; 

When  we  reach  our  blissful  station, 
Then  we  '11  give  thee  nobler  praise. 

With  the  establishment  of  Sunday-schools 
throughout  England  there  grew  up  a  demand 
for  hymns  for  children's  use  which  Isaac 
Watts  had  failed  to  fill.  It  was  as  long  ago 
as  1 774  that  this  hymn  first  appeared,  but  it 
was  not  until  1794  that  it  came  into  general 
use,  being  found  in  a  collection  of  sacred 
songs  issued  by  Rev.  Robert  Hawker,  entitled 
Psalms  and  Hymns  Sung  by  the  Children  of 
the  Sunday-school,  in  the  Parish  Church  of 
Charles,  Plymouth,  at  the  Sabbath  Evening 
Lecture.  The  authorship  of  the  hymn  in 
question  has  been  much  disputed.  It  has 
been  attributed  to  Walter  Shirley,  and  to 
several  others,  and  it  is  only  recently  that 
Hawker's  claim  to  it  has  been  fully  estab- 
lished. 

Rev.  Robert  Hawker  was  born  in  Exeter 
in  1753,  anfl  educated  for  the  medical  pro- 
fession. He  was  married  when  but  nineteen 
years  old ;  and  soon  afterward,  feeling  that 
he  was  called  to  the  ministry,  he  gave  up  his 
plans  and  began  to  study  at  Oxford,  where  in 
1778  he  was  ordained.  His  first  and  only 
charge  was  that  of  the  Church  of  St.  Charles 
the  Martyr,  at  Plymouth,  of  which  he  became 
incumbent  in  1784,  and  where  he  remained 
until  he  died,  April  6,  1827.  Dr.  Hawker 
wrote  and  published  many  works,  and  edited 
an  issue  of  the  Bible  in  penny  numbers.  He 
was  renowned  as  an  extreme  Calvinist,  and 
also  as  a  commentator  on  the  Scriptures. 


206 


Dismissal. 


8s,  7s,  4S. 


Lord,  dismiss  us  with  thy  blessing, 
Fill  our  hearts  with  joy  and  peace  ; 

Let  us  each,  thy  love  possessing. 
Triumph  in  redeeming  grace  ; 

Oh,  refresh  us, 
Traveling  through  this  wilderness. 


CLOSE  OF  SERVICE. 


95 


2  Thanks  we  give,  and  adoration, 
For  thy  gospel's  joyful  sound. 

May  the  (ruits  of  thy  salvation 
In  our  hearts  and  lives  abound  ; 

May  thy  presence 
With  us  evermore  be  found. 

3  So,  whene'er  the  signal 's  given 
Us  from  earth  to  call  away, 

Borne  on  angels'  wings  to  heaven. 
Glad  to  leave  our  cumbrous  clay, 

May  we,  ready, 
Rise  and  reign  in  endless  day. 

Much  discussion,  first  and  last,  has  been 
raised  concerning  the  authorship  of  this  famil- 
iar hymn.  G.  J.  Stevenson  says  that  its  first 
appearance  is  traced  to  A  Collection  of  Hymns 
for  Public  Worship,  issued  by  Rev.  John 
Harris  of  Hull ;  this  is  dated  in  1774,  and  in 
it  the  piece  is  credited  to  John  Fawcett.  But 
the  same  writer  adds  that  Dr.  Fawcett  did 
not  include  these  stanzas  in  either  of  the  edi- 
tions of  his  collected  poems ;  but  there  were 
many  others  he  also  omitted.  S.  W.  Dufiield 
seems  to  have  had  no  hesitation  in  his  ac- 
ceptance of  the  name  usually  attached  to  the 
hymn,  but  Dr.  Burrage  only  remarks  slight- 
ingly, in  his  Baptist  Hymn-  Writers  and 
Their  Hymns,  that  it  is  ascribed  to  Dr.  Faw- 
cett "  by  some."  Of  course  every  one  needs 
to  be  asked  to  discriminate  this  from  another 
with  the  same  first  line,  by  Dr.  Hawker. 

207  "Keep  us  safe."  8s,  7s,  4s. 

God  of  our  salvation  !  hear  us ; 

Bless,  oh,  bless  us,  ere  we  go  ; 
When  we  join  the  world,  be  near  us. 

Lest  we  cold  and  careless  grow. 
Saviour  !  keep  us ; 

Keep  us  safe  from  every  foe. 

2  As  our  steps  are  drawing  nearer 

To  our  everlasting  home, 
May  our  view  of  heaven  grow  clearer, 

Hope  more  bright  of  joys  to  come ; 
And,  when  dying, 

May  thy  presence  cheer  the  gloom. 

Rev.  Thomas  Kelly  seems  to  have  had  a 
better  practical  sense  of  what  was  needed  in 
a  hymn-book  for  promiscuous  and  permanent 
use  than  many  others  of  our  sacred  poets,  for 
he  noticeably  fills  in  the  places  where  the  lack 
appears.  There  come  occasions  in  ordinary 
public  services  when  a  simple  and  fervid  cry 
unto  our  heavenly  Father  is  all  we  wish  as 
we  leave  the  house  of  prayer.  This  brief 
hymn  is  really  one  of  the  most  graceful,  and 
even  in  its  littleness  one  of  the  strongest,  of 
this  author's  valuable  contributions  to  spir- 
itual literature.  It  is  found  in  the  fifth  edi- 
tion of  his  collection,  and  has  for  its  title, 
"  Commencing  and  Concluding  Worship." 
The  reference  attached  to  it  is  Psalm  119: 
146 :  "  I  cried  unto  thee;  save  me,  and  I  shall 
keep  thy  testimonies."  There  is  in  these  two 
verses  a  pathetic  expression  of  human  weak- 


ness, frailty,  and  exposure  ;  but  there  is  also  a 
bright  utterance  of  serene  hope  and  trust  for 
the  illumination  of  the  gloom. 

208  "Lord,  keep  us."  Ss,  7s,  4s. 

Keep  us.  Lord,  oh,  keep  us  ever: 
Vain  our  hope,  if  left  by  thee  ; 

We  are  thine  ;  oh,  leave  us  never. 
Till  thy  glorious  face  we  see ; 

Then  to  praise  thee 
Through  a  bright  eternity. 

2  Precious  is  thy  word  of  promise, 

Precious  to  thy  people  here; 
Never  take  thy  presence  from  us, 

Jesus,  Saviour,  still  be  near  ; 
Living,  dying, 

May  thy  name  our  spirits  cheer. 

We  have  here  a  companion-piece  to  the  one 
just  before  it,  from  Rev.  Thomas  Kelly,  with 
the  same  thoughtful  purpose,  and  conceived 
in  the  same  strain.  It  may  be  found  in  the 
edition  of  his  book  altered  and  enlarged  in 
1820;  there  it  has  four  stanzas,  and  purports 
to  have  been  suggested  by  Psalm  119:35: 
"  Make  me  to  go  in  the  path  of  thy  command- 
ments ;  for  therein  do  I  delight."  The  main 
idea  of  the  hymn  is  that  real  safety  comes 
only  to  him  who  trusts  entirely  in  his  God,^ 
and  to  him  only  who  preserves  his  faith  un- 
waveringly will  God  give  security  from  all 
harm.  This  is  Dr.  Guthrie's  illustration, 
given  in  his  terse  powerful  sentences  :  "  Woe 
to  the  man,  in  the  old  Corinthian  games,  who 
allowed  his  competitor  to  catch  him  off  his 
guard.  Woe  to  the  man  who  turned  to  look 
on  father,  mother,  wife,  or  mistress.  Woe  to 
the  man  who  lifted  his  eye  but  for  a  moment 
from  the  glaring  eye  of  his  antagonist ;  that 
moment  a  ringing  blow  fells  him  to  the  earth — 
he  bites  the  dust.  Not  less  does  our  safety 
depend  on  constant  care  and  watchfulness." 


209 


"Lord  everlasting." 


IIS,  5s. 

Now  God  be  with  us,  for  the  ni^ht  is  closing, 
The  light  and  darkness  are  of  his  disposing; 
And  'neath  his  shadow  here  to  rest  we  yield  us; 
For  he  will  shield  us. 

2  Let  evil  thoughts  and  spirits  flee  before  us; 
Till  morning  cometh,  watch,  O  Father!  o'er  us; 
In  soul  and  Dody  thou  from  harm  defend  us. 

Thine  angels  send  us. 

3  Let  pious  thoughts  be  ours  when  sleep  o'ertakes 

us; 
Our  earliest  thoughts  be  thine  when  morning  wakes 

us  ; 
All  sick  and  mourners,  we  to  thee  commend  them  ; 
Do  thou  befriend  them. 

4  We  have  no  refuge,  none  on  earth  to  aid  us. 
But  thee,  O  Father !  who  thine  own  hast  made  us  ; 
But  thy  dear  presence  will  not  leave  them  lonely 

Who  seek  thee  only. 

Of  the  translations  made  by  Miss  Catharine 
Winkworth  and  included  in  her  Choral  Hook 
for  England,  where  this  is  found,  no  less  a 
critic  than  James  Martineau  has  written  that 


96 


CLOSE   OK   SERVICE. 


they  "  are  invariably  faithful,  and  for  thd  most 
part  both  terse  and  delicate ;  and  an  admir- 
able art  is  applied  to  the  management  of  com- 
plex and  difficult  versification.  They  have 
not  quite  the  fire  of  John  Wesley's  versions 
of  Moravian  hymns,  or  the  wonderful  fusion 
and  reproduction  of  thought  which  may  be 
found  in  Coleridge.  But  if  less  flowing,  they 
are  more  conscientious  than  either,  and  attain 
a  result  as  poetical  as  severe  exactitude  ad- 
mits, being  only  a  little  short  of  'native 
music' " 

This  hymn  is  one  of  the  best  that  Petrus 
Herbert  has  given  to  the  churches.  We  are 
told  that  it  was  written  probably  under  the 
pressure  of  persecution  and  oppression.  The 
author  was  ordained  as  a  priest  of  the  Breth- 
ren's Unity  in  1 562.  The  piece  begins  with 
the  line  :  '■'Die  Nacht  kommen  drz'tt  wir  ruhen 
sollen."  The  version  before  us  follows  the 
German  meter,  and  reproduces  it  very  felici- 
tously in  the  English.  The  Christians  of  the 
present  day,  who  live  so  tranquilly  in  the  light 
of  modern  advancement  and  peace,  are  fortu- 
nate in  being  permitted  to  tone  up  and 
strengthen  their  piety  with  some  of  those  old 
songs  of  faith  which  bore  the  warrior  souls  of 
Reformation  times  on  through  the  perils  of 
the  martyr  days. 


210 


Prayer  and  Praise. 


IIS,  5S. 


Father,  thy  name  be  praised,  thy  kingdom  given  ; 
Thy  will  be  done  on  earth  as  't  is  in  heaven  ; 
Keep  us  in  life;  forgive  our  sins  ;  deliver 
Us  now  and  ever. 

2  Praise  be  to  thee  through  Jesus  our  salvation, 
God,  three  in  one,  the  Ruler  of  creation, 
High  throned,  o'er  all  thine  eye  of  mercy  casting, 
Lord  everlasting! 

The  poem  of  Petrus  Herbert  has  five 
stanzas  of  seven  lines  each,  and  closes  with 
the  Lord's  Prayer;  and  to  this  a  Doxology 
has  been  added  in  one  of  the  English  Hym- 
naries.  Out  of  these  the  present  piece  is  con- 
structed ;  so  that  virtually  this  is  a  part  of  the 
preceding  hymn. 

2i  i  '' King  of  Glory  P'  lis,  5s. 

Night's  shadows  falling,  men  to  rest  are  calling; 
Rest  we,  possessing  heavenly  peace  and  blessing  : 
This  we  implore  thee,  falling  down  before  thee. 
Great  King  of  Glory  ! 

2  O  Saviour,  hear  us !    Son  of  God,  be  near  us  ! 
Thine  angels  send  us  ;  let  thy  love  attend  us  : 
He  nothing  feareth  whom  thy  presence  cheereth. 

Light  his  path  clearelh. 

3  Be  near,  relieving  all  who  now  are  grieving  ; 
Thy  visitation  be  our  consolation  : 

Oh,  hear  the  sighing  of  the  faint  and  dying; 
Lord,  hear  our  crying  ! 

4  Thou  ever  livest  ;  endless  life  thou  givest ; 
Thou  watch  art  keeping  o'er  thy  faithful  sleeping  ; 
In  thy  clear  shining  they  are  now  reclining. 

All  care  resigning. 


5  O  Lord  of  Glory,  praise  we  and  adore  thee — 
'i'hee  for  us  given,  our  true  Rest  from  heaven  ! 
Rest,  peace,  and  blessing  we  are  now  possessing, 
Thy  name  confessing. 

Rev.  Arthur  Tozer  Russell  was  the  son  of 
a  Congregational  minister.  Educated  at 
Cambridge,  entering  St.  John's  College  in 
1825,  he  was  ordained  to  the  ministry  in  the 
Church  of  England,  becoming  the  vicar  of 
Caxton  in  1 830.  He  must  have  been  a  busy 
man  in  almost  all  the  fields  of  religious  litera- 
ture. He  WTOte  critiques  with  rare  skill  and 
acumen,  and  he  published  a  series  of  books, 
little  and  large,  of  his  own  which  other  critics 
approved.  He  seems  to  have  been  specially 
fond  of  hymnological  studies.  Some  of  the 
volumes  he  edited  contained  excellent  lyrics 
which  he  composed.  Indeed,  he  had  fair  ex- 
ample in  this  particular ;  for  his  father  issued  . 
a  hymn-book  in  181 3,  known  as  Russell's 
Appendix,  and  in  the  third  edition  of  this  ap- 
peared the  young  poet's  first  piece.  From 
such  a  start  he  went  forward  very  success- 
fully, offering  translations  and  original  com- 
positions all  along  his  history,  some  of  them 
of  eminent  merit.  In  1852  he  left  Caxton, 
and  became  vicar  of  Whaddon  in  Cambridge- 
shire. In  1866  he  removed  to  a  fresh  charge 
in  Liverpool.  By-and-by  he  took  the  last 
church  he  served,  as  rector  of  Southwi'ck. 
There  he  closed  his  life  after  long  illness.  He 
was  born  at  Northampton,  March  20,  1806, 
and  died  November  i8,  1874.  He  left  behind 
him  at  least  a  hundred  and  forty  hymns,  of 
which  the  one  now  before  us  must  be  con- 
sidered as  among  the  best ;  and  it  is  an- 
nounced that  with  his  papers  also  remain  as 
yet  unpublished  a  large  number  of  manuscript 
chants  and  tunes. 


212 


Evening  Confession. 


IIS,  5S. 


From  the  recesses  of  a  lowly  spirit 
Our  humble  prayer  ascends  ;  O  Father,  hear  it 
Upsoaring  on  the  wings  of  awe  and  meekness  I 
Forgive  its  weakness ! 

2  We  see  thy  hand  ;  it  leads  us,  it  supports  us ! 
We  hear  thy  voice  ;  it  counsels  and  it  courts  us : 
And  then  we  turn  away ;  and  still  thy  kindness 

Forgives  our  blindness. 

3  Oh,  how  long-suffering.   Lord  !  but  thou  de- 

lightest 
To  win  with  love  the  wandering  ;  thou  invitest, 
By  smiles  of  mercy,  not  by  frowns  or  terrors, 
Man  from  his  errors. 

4  Father  and  Saviour  !  plant  within  each  bosom 
The  seeds  of  holiness,  and  bid  them  blossom 

In  fragrance  and  in  beauty  bright  and  vernal. 
And  spring  eternal. 

5  Then  place  them  in  thine  everlasting  gardens. 
Where  angels  walk,  and  seraphs  are  the  wardens  ; 
Where  ev'ry  flower,  escaped  through  death's  dark 

portal. 
Becomes  immortal. 


CLOSE  OF  SERVICE. 


97 


In  the  exquisite  little  book  of  Matins  and 
Vespers,  issued  in  1821  by  Sir  John  Bowring, 
is  found  this  hymn  entitled,  "  Prayer  of 
Trust."  It  is  in  use  on  both  sides  of  the  sea; 
formerly  it  was  given  out  as  a  chant,  but  of 
late  it  has  been  met  in  its  somewhat  peculiar 
meter  by  fitting  music,  and  so  the  grateful 
people  are  taking  out  of  the  exclusive  posses- 
sion of  the  choirs  this  fine  song  so  appro- 
priate for  a  full  congregation.  The  author 
has  long  been  classed  with  those  holding  So- 
cinian  views ;  but  it  starts  inquiry  and  cer- 
tainly forestalls  bitterness  of  prejudice,  even 
if  it  does  not  awake  wonder,  that  such  a  man 
as  the  one  who  wrote  this  hymn,  and  also 
"  Watchman,  tell  us  of  the  night,"  and  "  In 
the  cross  of  Christ  I  glory,"  should  not  be 
welcome  to  even  the  rigidest  of  the  old-time 
orthodox. 


213 


Abiding  Trust. 


8s,  7s,  7S. 


Thkol'gh  t!ie  day  thy  love  has  spared  us  ; 

Now  we  lay  us  down  to  rest, 
Tlirough  the  silent  watches  guard  us, 

Let  no  foe  our  peace  molest  ; 
Jesus  !  thou  our  Guardian  be  ; 
Sweet  it  is  to  trust  in  thee. 

2  Pilgrims  here  on  earth,  and  strangers, 

Dwelling  in  the  midst  of  foes, 
Us  and  ours  preserve  from  dangers  ; 

In  thine  arms  may  we  repose, 
And  when  life's  short  day  is  past 
Rest  with  thee  in  heaven  at  last. 

Here  we  find  another  of  those  short  eve- 
ning hymns  of  Rev.  Thomas  Kelly.  It  has  no 
individuality  that  calls  for  special  notice,  but 
it  fits  a  place  for  which  it  was  intended,  and 
actually  illumines  that  dull  moment  when 
Christians  are  making  ready  to  leave  the 
house  of  God.  If  "  Good-bye  "  really  signi- 
fies "  God  be  with  you,"  as  some  say,  then  in- 
deed this  is  a  beautiful  parting  song.  This 
author  wrote  and  published  hymns  for  fifty- 
one  years,  and  left  behind  him  when  he  died, 
for  all  the  world  to  choose  from  and  to  sing, 
no  less  than  seven  hundred  and  sixty -five 
lyrics,  many  of  which  rank  among  the  best  in 
our  tongue. 

2  1 4  Parting  blessing.  is,  7s,  7s. 

_  ■  Saviour,  now  the  day  is  ending, 
And  the  shades  of  evening  fall, 

Let  thy  Holy  Dove,  descending. 
Bring  thy  mercy  to  us  all ; 

Set  thy  seal  on  every  heart, 

Jesus,  bless  us  ere  we  part  I 

3  Bless  the  gospel  message  spoken. 

In  thine  own  appointed  way  ; 
Give  each  fainting  soul  a  token 

Of  thy  tender  love  to-day  : 
Set  thy  seal  on  every  heart, 
Jesus,  bless  us  ere  we  part ! 

3  Comfort  those  in  pain  or  sorrow. 
Watch  each  sleeping  child  of  thine ; 


Let  us  all  arise  to-morrow 

strengthened  by  thy  grace  divine  ; 
Set  thy  seal  on  every  heart, 
Jesus,  bless  us  ere  we  part ! 

4  Pardon  thou  each  deed  unholy  ; 

Lord,  forgive  each  sinful  thought; 
Make  us  contrite,  pure,  and  lowTy, 

By  thy  great  example  taught  : 
Set  thy  seal  on  every  heart, 
Jesus,  bless  us  ere  we  part ! 

A  girl  of  fifteen,  looking  through  an  old  tat- 
tered scrap-book,  chanced  upon  this  line  be- 
neath the  picture  of  a  mill — "  The  mill  cannot 
grind  with  the  water  that  has  passed."  In- 
stantly it  suggested  to  her  mind  a  train  of 
thought  which  resulted  in  the  writing  of  a  poem 
called  "  The  Lessons  of  the  Water-mill,"  by 
which  its  author.  Miss  Sarah  Doudney,  is  best 
known. 

The  hymns  bearing  this  author's  name, 
scattered  around  in  various  English  hymnals, 
are  of  exceptional  merit.  She  is  a  very  vo- 
luminous writer  of  fugitive  poems  and  tales 
for  the  religious  magazines,  and  in  1880  she 
published  Stepping  Stones.  But  sometimes 
it  is  difficult  to  trace  or  even  recognize  her 
work.  Many  of  her  poetical  pieces  can  be 
found  in  Psalms  of  Life,  issued  in  London. 
1 87 1.  The  hymn  given  above  is  from  the 
Children's  Hymn  Book,  1881.  All  the  slender 
facts  of  her  history  that  have  come  to  the 
public  are  these :  she  was  born  near  Ports- 
mouth, England,  but  early  removed  to  a  re- 
mote village  in  Hampshire.  She  is  still  living 
at  Ivy  Lodge,  Cobham,  Hampshire,  and  is 
unmarried. 

2  I  5  Divine  Love.  8s,  7s,  7s. 

Holy  Father  !  we  address  thee — 

Loved  in  thy  belov6d  Son ; 
Holy  Son  of  God,  we  bless  thee, 

Boundless  grace  hath  made  us  one ; 
Holy  Spirit,  aid  our  songs. 
This  glad  work  to  thee  belongs. 

2  Wondrous  was  thy  love,  O  Father  I 
Wondrous  thine,  O  Son  of  God  ! 

Vast  the  love  that  bruised  and  wounded, 

Vast  the  love  that  bore  the  rod  ; 
Holy  Spirit,  still  reveal 
How  those  stripes  alone  can  heal. 

3  Gracious  Father  I  thy  good  pleasure 
Is  to  love  us  as  thy  Son, 

Meting  out  the  self-same  measure, 

Since  thou  seest  us  as  one. 
Blessed  Jesus,  loved  are  we. 
As  the  Father  loveth  thee. 

4  Hallelujah  !  we  are  hasting 
To  our  Father's  house  above  ; 

By  the  way  our  souls  are  tasting 

Rich  and  everlasting  love  ; 
In  Jehovah  is  our  boast. 
Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost ! 

In  a  collection   of  religious  poems,  fifty- 
eight  in  number,  entitled  Hymns  Intended  to 
Help  the  Cointnunion  of  Saints,  is  to  be  found 
7 


98 


CLOSE  OF  SERVICE. 


the  piece  we  quote.  The  book  was  issued  by 
Mrs.  Mary  (Bowly)  Peters,  the  wife  of  Rev. 
John  McWilliam  Peters. 

Mrs.  Peters  was  born  in  the  borough  of 
Cirencester,  England,  in  1813,  and  died  at 
Chfton,  July  29,  1856.  Her  husband  was  at 
one  time  rector  of  Quenning^on,  Gloucester- 
shire, but  afterwards  became  the  vicar  of 
Langford,  Berkshire.  Several  of  her  hymns 
were  contributed  to  the  Plymouth  Brethren's 
Psalms,  Hymns  and  Spiritual  Songs,  pub- 
lished in  London  in  1842;  but  she  is  per- 
haps best  known  by  the  hymn  commencing, 
"  Through  the  love  of  God,  our  Saviour." 
She  is  also  the  author  of  a  prose  work  in 
seven  volumes.  The  World's  History  from 
the  Creation  to  the  Accession  of  Queen  Vic- 
toria. 


2(7 


"Go  in  peace." 


216 


'It  is  i: 


los,  61. 


The  (iay  is  gently  sinking  to  a  close, 
Fainter  and  yet  more  faint  the  sunlight  glows  ; 
O  Brightness  of  thy  Father's  glory,  thou, 
Eternal  Light  of  light,  be  with  us  now ; 
Where  thou  art  present,  darkness  cannot  be: 
Midnight  is  glorious  noon,  O  Lord,  with  thee. 

2  Thou,  who  in  darkness  walking  didst  appear 
Upon  the  waves,  and  thy  disciples  cheer, 

Come,  Lord,  in  lonesome  days,  when  storms  assail, 
And  earthly  hopes  and  human  succors  fail : 
When  all  is  dark,  may  we  behold  thee  nigh. 
And  hear  thy  voice,  "  Fear  not,  for  it  is  L" 

3  The  weary  world  is  mouldering  to  decay, 
Its  glories  wane,  its  pageants  fade  away ; 
In  that  last  sunset,  when  the  stars  shall  fall, 
May  we  arise,  awakened  by  thy  call. 
With  thee,  O  Lord,  for  ever  to  abide 

In  that  blest  day  wliich  has  no  eventide. 

When  Dr.  Christopher  Wordsworth,  now 
the  Bishop  of  Lincoln  in  the  English  Estab- 
lished Church,  was  Canon  of  Westminster  he 
published  a  notable  collection  of  sacred  po- 
etry called  The  Holy  Year.  This  reached  its 
third  and  enlarged  edition  in  1863,  which  con- 
tained a  hundred  and  twenty-seven  original 
hymns  ;  among  them  is  found  the  one  now 
before  us.  It  is  a  pathetic  and  ingenious  re- 
production of  the  scene  of  Jesus'  walking 
upon  the  water  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee.  The 
conception  of  this  spectacle,  as  the  poem 
presents  it,  is  positively  artistic.  The  day 
falls,  and  the  shadows  lie  heavily  over  the  in- 
land lake ;  so  the  night  comes  on,  and  dark- 
ness is  closing  in.  The  poet  seems  to  see 
Jesus  advancing,  the  Light  of  light,  bringing 
illumination  with  his  own  luminous  grace. 
So  he  prays  that  the  Saviour  will  be  at  hand 
"  in  lonesome  days,"  and  specially  at  the 
"  last  sunset,"  and  brighten  the  gloom  when 
the  world's  glories  wane,  and  the  pageants 
fade,  and  the  stars  fall. 


Saviour,  again  to  thy  dear  name  we  raise 
With  one  accord  our  parting  hymn  of  praise ; 
We  rise  to  bless  thee  ere  our  worship  cease. 
And  now,  departing,  wait  thy  word  of  peace. 

2  Grant  us  thy  peace  upon  our  homeward  way  ; 
With  thee  began,  with  thee  shall  end  the  day  ; 
Guard  thou  the  lips  from  sin,  the  hearts  from  shame, 
That  in  this  house  have  called  upon  thy  name. 

3  Grant  us  thy  peace,  Lord,  through  the  coming 

night ; 
Turn  thou  for  us  its  darkness  into  light ; 
From  harm  anti  danger  keep  thy  children  free, 
For  dark  and  light  are  both  alike  to  thee. 

4  Grant  us  thy  peace  throughout  our  earthly  life. 
Our  balm  in  sorrow,  and  our  stay  in  strife  ; 
Then,  when  thy  voice  shall  bid  our  conflict  cease, 
Call  us,  O  Lord,  to  thine  eternal  peace. 

This  piece  was  composed  for  use  at  a  festi- 
val of  parochial  choirs  in  Nantwich,  England, 
by  Rev.  John  Ellerton,  and  afterwards  revised 
by  himself  for  the  Appendix  to  Hymns  An- 
cient and  Modern,  where  it  was  published  in 
1868.  It  makes  a  very  interesting  and  appro- 
priate close  for  a  service.  In  the  old  times 
there  used  to  be  permitted  a  half-response 
from  the  people  to  the  pulpit  in  the  exercise 
of  divine  worship.  The  pastor  customarily 
began  with  the  salutation,  "  Peace  be  to  you 
all."  And  the  audience  replied  outspokenly 
with  a  graceful  return  of  the  word,  "  Peace." 
In  those  days  the  hearers  stood,  and  the 
speaker  sat.  Provision  was  not  made  for 
pews,  and  the  pulpit  was  in  structure  very 
rude.  Once  Augustine  is  known  to  have  apol- 
ogized for  a  sermon  longer  than  usual,  and 
contrasted  his  posture  with  that  of  his  listen- 
ers ;  and  then  he  added,  "  The  lesson  out  of 
the  apostles  is  dark  and  diflficult  to-day,"  ^d 
asked  them  to  pray  for  God's  help  upon  hiAi. 
It  is  pathetic  to  think  of  such  artless  reciproc- 
ities ;  they  might  perhaps,  even  in  our  time, 
be  of  hearty  cheer  and  friendly  sympathy,  and 
things  would  be  more  promising  if  pews  and 
pulpits  knew  each  other  better  and  cared  for 
each  other  more  demonstratively.  Our  gen- 
eration, it  is  certain,  is  more  cool  and  dec- 
orous ;  but  that  does  not  make  it  more  reli- 
gious. 


218 


"  Trust,  strength,  calmness." 


Father  !  in  thy  m^'sterious  presence  kneeling. 
Fain  would  our  souls  feel  all  thy  kindling  love  ; 

For  we  are  weak,  and  need  some  deep  revealing 
Of  trust,  and  strength,  and  calmness  from  aiiove. 

2  Lord  !  we  have  wandered  forth  through  doubt  and 

sorrow, 
And  thou  hast  made  each  step  an  onward  one  ; 
And  we  will  ever  trust  each  unknown  morrow  ; 
Thou  wilt  sustain  us  till  its  work  is  done. 

3  In  the  heart's  depths  a  peace  serene  and  holy 
Abides:  and,  when  pain  seems  to  have  her  will, 

Or  we  despair,  oh  !  may  that  peace  rise  slowly, 
Stronger  than  agony,  and  we  be  still. 


CLOSE  OF  SERVICE. 


99 


4  Now,  Father  !  now  in  thy  dear  presence  kneeling, 
Our  spirits  yearn  to  feel  thy  kindling  love  ; 

Now  make  us  strong  ;  we  need  thy  deep  revealing 
Of  trust,  and  strength,  and  calmness  from  above. 

Trust,  strength,  and  calmness  are  indeed 
expressed  in  this  beautiful  hymn.  It  would 
steal  away  the  sharpness  of  a  sorrow  ere  we 
were  aware.  Its  author,  the  Rev.  Samuel 
Johnson,  was  born  in  Salem,  Mass.,  October 
lo,  1822.  He  received  his  education  at  Har- 
vard College,  from  which  he  graduated  in 
1842,  and  in  1846  from  the  Divinity  School. 
His  religious  tendencies  were  Theistic,  and  in 
1853  he  accepted  the  pastorate  of  a  Free 
Church  in  Lynn,  Mass.,  where  he  remained 
until  1870;  he  then  returned  to  his  native 
town,  where  he  spent  the  rest  of  his  life.  He 
died  in  North  Andover,  Mass.,  February  19, 
1882. 

The  hymn  here  quoted  first  appeared  in 
Book  of  Hymns,  1846,  of  which  the  author 
was  one  of  the  compilers.  Eleven  of  his 
pieces  were  published  in  Songs  of  the  Liberal 
Faith,  one  of  the  most  forceful  and  majestic 
being  "  City  of  God,  how  broad  and  far." 
Mr.  Johnson  was  also  connected  with  Samuel 
Longfellow  in  the  compilation  of  a  Book  of 
Hymns  for  Public  and  Private  Devotion, 
issued  in  1846.  He  is,  however,  better  known 
as  the  author  of  a  masterly  work  on  Oriental 
Religions,  which  appeared  in  a  series  of  pa- 
pers, and  on  which  he  was  engaged  some 
years  before  he  died.  In  breadth  of  thought 
and  depth  of  learning  this  book  is  entitled  to 
rank  with  the  works  of  Max  Miiller  or  James 
Freeman  Clarke. 


219 


Evening  of  the  day. 


Abide  with  me:  fast  falls  the  eventide; 
The  darkness  deepens;  Lord,  with  me  abide  ! 
When  other  helpers  fail,  and  comforts  flee. 
Help  of  the  helpless,  oh,  abide  with  me  ! 

2  Not  a  brief  glance  I  beg,  a  passing  word. 
But  as  thou  dwell'st  with  thy  disciples.  Lord, 
Familiar,  condescending,  patient,  free. 
Come,  not  to  sojourn,  but  abide  with  me. 

3  I  need  thy  presence  every  passing  hour: 
What  but  thy  grace  can  foil  the  tempter's  power  ? 
Who  like  thyself  my  guide  and  stay  can  be  ? 
Through  cloud  and  sunshine,  oh,  abide  with  me ! 

This  hymn,  now  grown  to  be  dear  all  the 
world  over,  was  given  to  the  Christian  public 
in  the  year  1847.  It  was  written  by  the 
Rev.  Henry  Francis  Lyte,  a  clergyman  of  the 
Church  of  England,  then  traveling  for  his 
health,  and  in  the  final  stages  of  his  disease. 
His  home  was  in  Lower  Brixham,  Devon- 
shire, England,  in  the  midst  of  a  community 
of  sailors  and  fishermen,  who  were  generally 
kind  and  attentive  to  him,  but  had  little  or  no 
education  or  cultivation  of  life.     Indeed,  from 


REV.    HENRY   F.    LYTE. 


reading  his  biography,  one  would  be  led  to 
say  that  he  does  not  seem  to  have  ever  been 
happily  settled  in  his  ministry.  He  was  born 
of  gentle  blood  at  Kelso,  in  Scotland ;  but  his 
fortune  was  scanty,  and  he  had  a  severe  strug- 
gle to  obtain  his  education.  Giving  up  his 
early  purpose  to  study  medicine,  he  took 
orders  as  a  preacher  ;  and  though  during  his- 
academic  studies  his  scholarship  was  quite: 
promising,  he  immediately  fell  into  what  he 
himself  called  "  a  dreary  Irish  curacy."  His 
life  was  filled  with  disappointments  and  afflic- 
tions. His  ambitions  were  crossed,  his  affec- 
tions were  betrayed,  his  health  failed.  He 
died  in  his  fifty-fourth  year,  and  was  buried 
away  from  home  in  the  cemeter)-  at  Nice,  on 
his  way  to  Rome,  where  he  had  hoped  to  find 
more  helpful  rest  and  more  soothing  air  than 
that  of  his  sea-shore  parish  in  England.  The 
incidents  connected  with  the  composition  of 
this,  his  last  poetic  utterance,  are  singularly 
pathetic.  Before  leaving  for  the  south  he 
girded  himself  up  for  the  administration  of 
one  more  communion  service,  although  in 
strength,  as  he  wrote,  he  was  "  scarcely  able 
to  crawl."  The  final  words  of  his  address  at 
the  table  have  been  preserved  :  "  Oh,  breth- 
ren," said  he,  "  I  can  speak  feelingly  and  ex- 
perimentally on  this  point ;  and  I  stand  before 
you  seasonably  to-day,  as  alive  from  the  dead, 
if  I  may  hope  to  impress  it  upon  you,  and  in- 
duce you  to  prepare  for  that  solemn  hour 
which  must  come  to  all,  by  a  timely  apprecia- 
tion of,  and  a  dependence  on,  the  death  of 
Christ."  Then  he  gave  his  farewell  to  the 
members  of  his  flock  and  retired  to  his  cham- 
ber. As  the  evening  of  the  Sabbath  day 
gathered  its  shadows,  he  came  forth  wearily, 
and  laid  in  the  hand  of  one  of  his  relatives 


lOO 


CLOSE   OF   SERVICE. 


this  hymn  of  eight  stanzas,  together  with  some 
music  set  to  it,  which  he  had  himself  prepared. 
The  tune  has  perished,  but  the  hymn  is  im- 
mortal. 


220 


Evening  of  Life. 


Swift  to  its  close  ebbs  out  life's  little  day  ; 
Earth's  joys  grow  dim,  its  glories  pass  away: 
Change  and  decay  in  all  around  I  see  ; 

0  thou,  who  changest  not,  abide  with  me  ! 

2  Come  not  in  terrors,  as  the  King  of  kings  ; 
But  kind  and  good,  with  healing  in  thy  wings. 
Tears  for  all  woes,  a  heart  for  ever>-  plea  ; 
Come,  Friend  of  sinners,  and  abide  with  me. 

3  I  fear  no  foe,  with  thee  at  hand  to  bless 
Ills  have  no  weight,  and  tears  no  bitterness: 
Where  is  Death's  sting  ?  where,  Grave,  thy  victory  ? 

1  triumph  still,  if  thou  abide  with  me. 

4  Hold  thou  thy  cross  before  my  closing  eyes  ; 
Shine  through  the  gloom,  and  point  me  to  the  skies ; 
Heaven's  morning  breaks   and  earth's  vain  shad- 
ows flee: 

In  life,  in  death,  O  Lord,  abide  with  me! 


♦;•'■-   '^ 


lyte's  gravk  at  nice. 

This  hymn  is  only  a  part  of  the  preceding. 
The  poem  was  nev'er  meant  for  a  piece  to  be 
sung  in  public  worship  by  a  promiscuous 
congregation.  Yet  some  of  us  have  seen  it  in 
a  book  of  songs  for  children !  What  work 
would  boys  and  girls  make  with  such  a  senti- 
ment as  even  this  first  line  proffers  for  our 
singing  ?  The  various  stanzas  needed  to  be 
grouped  into  two  hymns,  one  for  the  evening 
of  the  day,  the  other  for  the  evening  of  life. 
Thus  they  do  admirable  service  without  any 
violation  of  sober  sense. 


321 


"A  word  of  Blessing." 


O  LbRD,  who  by  thy  presence  hast  made  light 
The  heat  and  burden  of  the  toilsome  day. 

Be  with  us  also  in  the  silent  night. 
Be  with  us  when  the  daylight  fades  away. 

2  Oh,  speak  a  word  of  blessing,  gracious  Lord  ! 
Thy  blessing  is  endued  with  soothing  power  ; 

On  human  hearts  worn  out  with  toil,  thy  word 
Falls  soft  and  gentle  as  the  evening  shower. 

3  Come  then.  O  Lord,  and  deign  to  be  our  guest. 
After  the  day's  ccniusion,  toil,  and  din  : 

Oh,  come  to  bring  us  peace,  and  joy,  and  rest, 
To  give  salvation,  and  to  pardoti  sin  ! 


4  Bind  up  the  wounds,  assuage  the  aching  smart 
Lett  in  each  bosom  from  the  day  just  past. 

And  let  us  on  a  Father's  loving  heart 
Forget  our  griefs,  and  find  sweet  rest  at  last. 

Richard  Massie  is  an  English  Episcopalian, 
a  gentleman  of  wealth  and  leisure,  residing  at 
Pulford  Hall,  in  Coddington,  Cheshire.  Some 
very  fine  translations  of  Spitta's,  Luther's,  and 
Gerhardt's  hymns  into  English  have  rendered 
his  name  familiar  on  both  sides  of  the  ocean. 
He  is  the  eldest  of  a  family  of  twenty-two 
children,  and  was  born  June  i8,  i8oo,  in 
Chester,  where  his  father  was  for  many  years 
the  minister  over  the  parish  church  of  St. 
Bride.  The  hymn,  of  which  he  has  furnished 
the  fine  revision  now  before  us,  is  one  of  the 
best  that  C.  J.  Spitta  has  ever  written.  It 
may  be  found  in  full  in  his  Psalter  imd 
Harfe,  entitled  "  Evening,"  and  commencing, 
"Hcrr,  des  Tages  Mii/un  und  Beschiverden." 
More  than  one  translation  into  English  has 
appeared  in  the  various  hymnals ;  but  this, 
which  w'as  published  by  Massie  in  his  Lyra 
Domestica,  1 86o,  is  perhaps  the  most  usable  of 
them  all,  because  it  does  not  attempt  to  fol- 
low the  German  meter  very  closely,  and  so 
can  be  set  to  music  which  is  singable. 

222  "Keep  us.  Lord!"  P.  M. 

God,  that  madest  earth  and  heaven, 

Darkness  and  light ; 
Who  the  day  for  toil  hast  given. 

For  rest  the  night ; 
May  thine  angel-guards  defend  us, 
Slumber  sweet  thy  mercy  send  us. 
Holy  dreams  and  hopes  attend  us. 

This  livelong  night. 

2  And  when  morn  again  shall  call  us 

To  run  life's  way. 
May  we  still,  whate'er  befall  us. 

Thy  will  obey  : 
From  the  power  of  evil  hide  us, 
In  the  narrow  pathway  guide  us, 
Nor  thy  smile  be  e'er  denied  us, 

The  livelong  day. 

3  Guard  us  waking,  guard  us  sleeping, 

And  when  we  die 
May  we  in  thy  mighty  keeping 

All  peaceful  lie  : 
When  the  last  dread  call  shall  wjike  us, 
Do  not  thou,  our  God,  forsake  us. 
But  to  reign  in  glory  take  us 

With  thee  on  high. 

4  Holy  Father,  throned  in  heaven, 

All-Holy  Son, 
Holv  Spirit,  freely  given, 

Blest  Three  in  One  ! 
Grant  thy  g:race,  we  now  implore  thee, 
Till  we  cast  our  crowns  before  thee. 
And  in  worthier  strains  adore  thee. 

While  ages  run. 

This  hymn  is  usually  credited  to  Bishop 
Reginald  Heber,  and  yet  only  one  stanza  of 
it  was  actually  written  by  him.  It  used  to 
contain  only  two,  but  subsequently  Rev.  Wil- 
liam Mercer,  who  wTote  the  second  of  those 


CLOSE  OF  SERVICE. 


two,  added  another,  which  is  now  reckoned 
as  the  last,  1864.  So  we  have  a  composite 
contribution  to  the  hymn  -  books ;  Bishop 
Heber's  verse  was  issued  posthumously  in 
1827;  William  Mercer  added  the  second  and 
fourth  in  1864;  and  Archbishop  Whately 
gave  the  third,  i860. 

223  Doxology.  8s,  7s. 

Praise  the  Lord  !  ye  heavens,  adore  him, 

Praise  him,  angels  in  the  height ; 
Sun  and  moon,  rejoice  before  him  ; 
Praise  him,  all  ye  stars  of  light  1 

2  Praise  the  Lord — for  he  hatli  spoken  ; 
Worlds  his  mighty  voice  obeyed  ; 

Laws  which  never  shall  be  broken. 
For  their  guidance  he  hath  made. 

3  Praise  the  Lord — for  he  is  glorious ; 
Never  shall  his  promise  fail : 

God  hath  made  his  saints  victorious. 
Sin  and  death  shall  not  prevail. 

4  Praise  the  God  of  our  salvation. 
Hosts  on  high  his  power  proclaim  ; 

Heaven  and  earth,  and  all  creation. 
Laud  and  magnify  his  name. 

Who  was  the  author  of  this  fine  paraphrase 
of  Psalm  148 — which  the  prophet  of  Anglican 
Hymnology  finds  worthy  a  place  as  a  First  Rank 
hymn — is  not  precisely  known.  It  has  been  at- 
tributed to  Bishop  Mant  and  to  John  Kemp- 
thorne.  It  was  traced  to  the  volume  of  Hymns 
for  the  Foundling  Hospital,  1 796,  in  which  a 
few  of  Mr.  Kempthorne's  pieces  are  found. 
This  much  only  is  known  positively :  it  ap- 
peared about  the  year  1 796 — hence  the  "Anon., 
1796"  which  is  generally  attached  to  it. 

Rev.  John  Kempthorne,  to  whom  is  ascribed 
its  authorship,  son  of  Admiral  Kempthorne, 
was  born  at  Plymouth,  June  24,  1775.  He 
studied  at  St.  John's,  Cambridge,  graduating 
B.  A.  in  1796,  and  B.  D.  in  1807.  After  his 
ordination  he  became,  successively,  vicar  of 
Northleach,  vicar  of  Wedmore,  rector  of  St. 
Michael's,  and  chaplain  of  St.  Mary  de  Grace, 
Gloucester.  He  was  also  a  Prebendary  in 
Lichfield  Cathedral  from  1826,  and  at  one 
time  was  Examining  Chaplain  to  the  Bishop 
of  that  diocese.  He  died  at  the  rectory, 
Gloucester,  November  6,  1 838. 


224  Evening  Prayer. 

Hear  my  prayer,  O  heavenly  Father, 
Ere  I  lay  me  down  to  sleep : 

Bid  thine  angels,  pure  and  holy. 
Round  my  bed  their  vigil  keep. 

3  Great  my  sins  are,  but  thy  mercy 
Far  outweighs  them  every  one ; 

Down  before  thy  cross  I  cast  them. 
Trusting  in  thy  help  alone. 

3  Keep  me,  through  this  night  of  peril. 
Underneath  its  boundless  phade  ; 

Take  me  to  thy  rest,  I  pray  thee, 
When  my  pilgrimage  is  made. 


8s,  7s. 


4  None  shall  measure  out  thy  patience 
By  the  span  of  human  thought ; 

None  shall  bound  the  tender  mercies 
Which  thy  holy  Son  has  brought. 

5  Pardon  all  my  past  transgressions; 
Give  nie  strength  for  days  to  come ; 

Guide  and  guard  me  with  thy  blessing. 
Till  thine  angels  bid  me  home. 

Some  years  ago,  while  Charles  Dickens  was 
the  editor  of  the  magazine  called  Household 
Words,  there  was  issued  each  season  an  ex- 
tra number  especially  appropriate  to  Christ- 
mas and  the  holidays,  filled  with  stories,  often 
taken  up  entirely  with  one  of  good  length  and 
fine  skill.  In  1856  there  was  published  a  tale 
entitled  "  The  Wreck  of  the  Golden  Mary." 
This  was  written  by  a  lady  who  keeps  herself 
in  much  reserve ;  she  then  lived  in  York, 
England,  and  was  known  by  the  literary  name 
of  "  Holme  Lee,"  but  her  real  name  was  Har- 
riet Parr.  Now  in  this  story  some  ship- 
wrecked sailors  and  passengers  are  floating 
around,  night  and  day,  shelterless,  upon  the 
sea  in  an  open  boat ;  the  vessel  struck  an  ice- 
berg and  had  already  gone  down ;  no  land, 
no  help  in  sight,  no  hope.  They  fall  to  tell- 
ing incidents  of  their  previous  lives,  and  one 
of  them,  Dick  Tarrant  by  name,  a  wild  youth 
in  his  history,  breaks  out  with  the  question. 
"  What  can  it  be  that  brings  all  these  old 
things  over  my  mind }  There  is  a  child's 
hymn  I  and  Tom  used  to  sing  at  my  mother's 
knee  when  we  were  little  ones,  keeps  running 
through  my  thoughts.  It 's  the  stars,  maybe ; 
there  was  a  little  window  by  my  bed  that  I 
used  to  watch  them  at,  a  window  in  my  room 
at  home  in  Cheshire ;  and  if  I  were  ever 
afraid,  as  boys  will  be  after  reading  a  good 
ghost-story,  I  would  keep  on  saying  it  till  I 
fell  asleep."  Then  another  took  up  the  con- 
versation :  "  That  was  a  good  mother  of 
yours,  Dick ;  could  you  say  that  hymn  now, 
do  you  think?  Some  of  us  might  like  to 
hear  it."  Then  the  sailor  replied,  "  It  is  as 
clear  in  my  mind  at  this  minute  as  if  my  mo- 
ther was  here  listening  to  me."  And  so  he 
repeated  this  wonderful  little  poem.  It  was 
evidently  composed  for  the  story  in  the  maga- 
zine, for  we  know  of  no  other  religious  song 
by  the  same  writer.  But  it  proved  so  pa- 
thetic and  beautiful  that  each  reader  was 
touched  by  it ;  and  at  last  it  was  caught  up 
for  real  use  by  the  compilers  and  transferred 
to  their  hymn-books.  This  gifted  woman 
published  several  works  afterwards ;  among 
them  were  Maude  Talbot,  1854;  Sylvan 
Holt's  Daughter,  1858;  Warp  and  Woof, 
1861 ;  Mr.  Wynyard's  Ward,  1867,  and  sev- 
eral other  works  of  fiction.    Nothing  can  be 


IQ2 


CLOSE  OF   SERVICE. 


ascertained  concerning  her  personally  further 
than  this,  except  that  she  was  born  at  York 
in  1828. 

225  "  Turn  us,  O  Lord . I"  8s,  7S. 

Heavenly  Father,  grant  thy  blessing 

On  the  teaching  of  this  day ; 
That  our  hearts,  thy  fear  possessing. 

May  from  sin  be  turned  away. 

2  Have  we  wandered  ?  oh,  forgive  us  ; 

Have  we  wished  from  truth  to  rove? 
Turn,  oh,  turn  us,  and  receive  us. 

And  incline  us  thee  to  love. 

This  prayer  in  music  is  included  in  many 
of  the  modern  hymnals  as  a  sort  of  grace  at 
closing  divine  service.  Although  it  is  widely 
used  and  deservedly  popular,  neither  the 
name  nor  the  residence  of  the  author  has 
come  to  light.  The  piece  is  known  to  have 
appeared  earliest  in  the  Hymns  of  the  London 
Sunday  School  Union,  1835. 

226  "  7%oM  hearestr  8S,  7S. 
Lord  !  in  love  and  mercy  save  us, 

For  our  trust  is  all  in  thee  : 
In  that  cleansing  fountain  lave  us, 
Which  alone  can  make  us  free  ! 

3  Weary,  life's  rough  billows  breasting 
Through  the  long  lone  dismal  night. 

Grant  that  calmly,  on  thee  resting. 
We  may  wait  for  morning  light. 

3  Lord  !  we  pray,  and  know  thou  hearest, 

For  thy  promises  are  true  : 
Grant  the  heart-wish  that  is  dearest  • 

He  who  knows  can  also  do ! 

In  his  excellent  volume,  English  Hymns, 
Samuel  W.  Duffield  tells  us  that  he  has 
learned  from  a  work  on  distinguished  Scotch- 
men of  the  present  day  all  that  has  been 
g^ven  to  the  public  concerning  the  writer  of 
the  present  hymn,  which  we  copied  from 
Songs  of  Grace  and  Gloiy,  at  the  time  when 
Laudes  Domini  was  in  course  of  preparation ; 
it  was  in  1869,  most  likely,  that  the  piece  was 
written.  Andrew  J.  Symington  was  born  at 
Paisley,  Scotland,  July  27,  1825.  His  educa- 
tion was  given  to  him  there  in  one  of  the 
Grammar  Schools,  and  then  he  entered  into 
business  with  his  father.  He  seems  to  have 
possessed  decided  literary  tastes  and  a  good 
deal  of  ability  with  his  pen.  He  published 
Harebell  Chimes,  1 848  ;  Genevieve,  and  other 
Poems,  1851  ;  and  The  Beautiful  in  Nature, 
Art,  and  Life,  1857. 


227  Blessing  sought. 

Gracious  Saviour,  thus  before  thee 
With  our  varied  want  and  care. 

For  a  blessing  we  implore  thee ; 
Listen  to  our  evening  prayer ! 

2  By  thy  favor  safely  living. 
With  a  grateful  heart  we  raise 

Songs  of  jubilant  thanksgiving  ; 
Listen  to  our  evening  praise. 


8s,  7s. 


3  Through  the  day.  Lord,  thou  hast  given 
Strength  sufficient  for  our  need  , 

Cheered  us  with  sweet  hopes  of  heaven, 
Helped  and  comforted  indeed. 

4  Lord,  we  thank  thee,  and  adore  thee. 
For  the  solace  of  thy  love  ; 

And  rejoicing  thus  before  thee. 
Wait  thy  blessing  from  above  ! 

Educated  for  commercial  pursuits — at  first 
a  timber-merchant,  then  following  the  life  of 
a  busy  London  surgeon — the  writer  of  the 
hymn  before  us,  Henry  Bateman,  yet  found 
time  to  devote  to  literary,  philanthropic,  and 
religious  works. 

Mr.  Bateman  was  descended  from  the  De 
Voeux,  a  Huguenot  family,  and  was  born  in 
Bunhill  Row,  Finsbury,  England,  March  6, 
1802,  and  died  in  1872.  He  was  a  nephew  of 
Bishop  Daniel  Wilson  of  Calcutta.  He  became 
a  member  of  the  Committee  of  the  Religious 
Tract  Society,  and  a  director  of  the  London 
Missionary  Society.  His  most  successful 
work  was  a  volume  of  poems,  Sunday  Sun- 
shine, 1858;  but  it  is  from  Heart  Melodies, 
1862,  that  the  hymn  cited  is  taken.  A  few 
of  his  other  writings  are  comprised  in  Belgium 
and  Up  and  Down  the  Rhine,  1858;  Home 
Musings :  Metrical  Lay  Sermons,  1862  ;  Fret 
Not,  and  other  Poems,  \  869. 

228  Doxology.  L.  M. 

Praise  God,  from  whom  all  blessings  flow. 
Praise  him,  all  creatures  here  below ; 
Praise  him  above,  ye  heavenly  host; 
Praise  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost. 

This  is  a  mere  repetition  of  the  Doxology 
in  common  use  in  this  country  for  more  than 
fourscore  years.  To  Dr.  Thomas  Ken's  final 
stanza  in  his  Morning  Hymn  is  added  the 
Hallelujah  ascription  in  order  to  constitute  a 
familiar  and  easy  anthem  for  a  congrega- 
tion to  sing  at  the  close  of  public  service. 
The  music  is,  for  all  we  know,  as  old  as  the 
hymn.  How  singular  it  seems  that,  when 
believers  of  every  name  and  clime  and  age 
wish  to  know  each  other,  with  a  determinate 
plan  to  get  into  communication  somehow, 
they  find  easiest  access  by  means  of  two 
words,  the  same  in  all  languages  on  the  face 
of  the  earth,  and  yet  given  in  the  tongues 
used  by  inspiration  in  the  Bible.  The  inci- 
dent is  related  of  a  Hindoo  and  a  New  Zea- 
lander,  chancing  to  meet  upon  the  deck  of  a 
missionary  ship.  They  knew  not  one  word 
of  each  other's  tongue.  They  wished  to  com- 
municate. They  pointed  to  their  Bibles. 
They  kept  shaking  hands.  They  smiled  in 
each  other's  faces.  They  kneeled  down  to- 
gether. But  they  could  do  no  more.  At  last, 
with  a  sudden  joy  at  new  discovery,  the  Hin- 
doo cried  out.  Hallelujah !    The  New  Zea- 


THE  SCRIPTURES. 


lander  caught  the  syllables  of  that  well-known 
doxology,  and  answered  enthusiastically, 
Amen!  There  they  were,  then,  finally  on 
common  ground.  Reared  almost  at  the  an- 
tipodes, they  met  together  when  one  shouted 
"  Praise  the  Lord  !"  and  the  other  responded, 
"  So  be  it !" 

229  "By  Galilee."  6s,  4s. 

Break  thou  the  bread  of  life, 

Dear  Lord,  to  me, 
As  thou  didst  break  the  loaves 

Beside  the  sea ; 
Beyond  the  sacred  page 

I  seek  thee,  Lord  ; 
My  spirit  pants  for  thee, 

O  living  Word ! 

2  Bless  thou  the  truth,  dear  Lord, 

To  me — to  me — 
As  thou  didst  bless  the  bread 

By  Galilee ; 
Then  shall  all  bondage  cease, 

All  fetters  fall ; 
And  I  shall  find  my  peace. 

My  All-in-AU ! 

Another  of  the  excellent  compositions  of 
Miss  Mary  A.  Lathbury,  very  fittingly  named 
"  the  lyrist  of  Chautauqua."  She  called  it  a 
"  Study  Song,"  when  she  wrote  it  in  1880  for 
the  "  Literary  and  Scientific  Circle  "  of  "  Bishop 
Vincent's  College  "  there  by  the  beautiful  lake ; 
but  its  best  meaning  and  its  widest  fame  are 
due  to  the  exquisite  allusion  to  our  Lord's 
teaching  beside  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  right  in 
view  of  the  sheet  of  water  at  Chautauqua 
which  seems  so  like  a  modern  Gennesaret. 

230  The  Gospel  Word.  L.  M. 

God,  in  the  gospel  of  his  Son, 
•  Makes  his  eternal  counsels  known  : 
Where  love  in  all  its  glory  shines, 
And  truth  is  drawn  in  fairest  lines. 

2  Here  sinners,  of  an  humble  frame, 
May  taste  his  grace,  and  learn  his  name  ; 
May  read,  in  characters  of  blood, 

The  wisdom,  power,  and  grace  of  God. 

3  The  prisoner  here  may  break  his  chains ; 
The  weary  rest  from  all  his  pains ; 

The  captive  feel  his  bondage  cease  ; 
The  mourner  find  the  way  of  peace. 

4  Here  faith  reveals  to  mortal  eyes 
A  brighter  world  beyond  the  skies ; 

Here  shines  the  light  which  guides  our  way 
From  earth  to  realms  of  endless  day. 

5  Oh,  grant  us  grace,  Almighty  Lord, 
To  read  and  mark  thy  holy  word, 
Its  truth  with  meekness  to  receive. 
And  by  its  holy  precepts  live. 

Rev.  Benjamin  Beddome  wrote  this  hymn, 
but  in  1 81 9  it  was  altered  somewhat  by  Rev. 
Thomas  Cotterill.  It  tells  us,  with  a  good 
measure  of  force  and  directness,  of  the  light 
from  above,  vouchsafed  to  bewildered  mortals 
for  their  guidance  from  earth  to  endless  day. 
Still  it  is  to  be  remembered  that  light  is  the 
remedy  for  darkness,  not  for  blindness.     It 


would  be  folly  to  say  to  a  man,  whose  physi- 
cal organs  of  sight  were  growing  sore  and 
poor,  that  he  needed  a  stronger  sunshine  to 
walk  in.  Indeed,  this  might  be  his  ruin,  and 
it  certainly  would  be  in  sensitive  moments  his 
exasperation.  Gospel  truth  is  the  remedy  for 
ignorance,  not  for  perversity.  A  hard  will 
might  be  expected  to  grow  harder  under  the 
full  pressure  of  obligation  to  yield ;  it  is  the 
work  of  the  Holy  Spirit  to  subdue  the  will  so 
that  it  will  receive  the  truth.  The  duty  of 
New  Testament  preachers  is  plain ;  they 
must  keep  urging  the  evidences  of  Chris- 
tianity upon  men's  notice,  whether  they  will 
hear  or  forbear.  One  stubborn  soul's  obsti- 
nacy cannot  prevent  another  willing  soul's 
belief.  The  chief  priests  may  have  shut  their 
eyes  tight  in  the  full  blaze  of  illumination ;  but 
that  would  not  make  Jerusalem  dark  in  the 
daytime. 

23  I  Psahn  19.  L.  M. 

The  heavens  declare  thy  glory.  Lord ! 

In  every  star  thy  wisdom  shines ; 
But,  when  our  eycs  behold  thy  word, 

We  read  thy  name  in  fairer  lines. 

2  The  rolling  sun,  the  changing  light, 
And  nights  and  days  thy  power  confess  ; 

But  the  blest  volume  thou  hast  writ 
Reveals  thy  justice  and  thy  grace. 

3  Sun,  moon,  and  stars  convey  thy  praise 
Round  the  whole  earth,  and  never  stand ; 

So,  when  thy  truth  began  its  race, 
It  touched  and  glanced  on  every  land. 

4  Nor  shall  thy  spreading  gospel  rest 

Till  through  the  world  thy  truth  has  run, 
Till  Christ  has  all  the  nations  blessed  ' 
That  see  the  light  or  feel  the  sun. 

Dr.  Isaac  Watts  preached  his  first  sermon 
in  the  city  of  London,  July  17,  1698,  and  in 
February  of  the  next  year  he  was  chosen  as 
the  assistant  of  Rev.  Dr.  Chauncey  in  Mark 
Lane.  He  was  not  rugged  enough  for  the 
work  of  a  clergfyman  in  the  metropolis ;  di- 
minutive in  person  as  he  was  slender  in  con- 
stitution, he  was  ill  much  of  the  time ;  he  had 
to  intermit  his  labors  altogether  for  four  years, 
beginning  with  1703.  It  was  not  until  17 19 
that  his  translation  of  the  Psalms  appeared. 
Sturdily  and  steadily  it  advanced  against  the 
hard  but  conscientious  opposition  of  those 
who  clung  to  old  traditions,  until  now  it 
stands  positively  at  the  head,  and  receives  the 
grateful  applause  of  the  world. 

This  version,  grown  now  so  familiar  in  our 
households,  is  that  of  Psalm  19  in  L.  M.  It 
is  composed  of  six  stanzas,  and  bears  the 
title,  "  The  Books  of  Nature  and  of  Scripture 
Compared ;  or,  the  Glory  and  Success  of  the 
Gospel."  In  the  ordinary  versions  of  this 
song  of  David  a  gp'oup  of  three  words  in 


I04 


THE  SCRIPTURES. 


italics  is  introduced  which  quite  changes  the 
sense.  It  makes  King  David  say  that  "  the 
heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God  "  so  widely 
tnat  'there  is  no  speech  nor  language  where 
their  voice  is  not  heard."  Modern  scholars 
are  talking  much  about  the  superfluous,  and 
even  injudicious,  use  of  these  interpolations 
in  the  inspired  Book.  And  the  New  Revi- 
sion has  hastened  to  relieve  this  particular 
infelicity.  It  reasserts  joyously  that  "  the 
heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God ;"  but  it 
adds  that  one  reason  v\hy  men  are  so  dull  in 
discovering  the  intelligence  of  the  testimony 
may  be  found  in  the  fact  that  the  stars  in  the 
sky  cannot  speak  in  articulate  words  ;  "  there 
is  no  speech  nor  language  ;  their  voice  cannot 
be  heard."  This  restoration  will  be  found  a 
most  valuable  help  when  the  second  portion 
of  the  Psalm  is  reached  in  its  beautiful  an- 
tithesis. God's  law  speaks  out,  and,  with  the 
aid  of  the  human  tongue,  revelation  goes 
closer  to  the  conscience  than  nature.  It  is 
that  to  which  this  folk-song  refers  as  the 
glory  of  the  Gospel. 


232 


Psalm  19. 


L.  M. 


Great  Sun  of  Righteousness,  arise  ! 

Oh,  bless  the  world  with  heavenly  light ! 
Thy  gospel  makes  the  simple  wise  : 

Thy  laws  are  pure,  thy  judgments  right. 

2  Thy  noblest  wonders  here  we  view. 
In  souls  renewed  and  sins  forgiven  : 

Lord,  cleanse  my  sins,  my  soul  renew, 
And  make  thy  word  my  guide  to  heaven. 

This  is  part  of  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  version  of 
Psalm  1*9,  L.  M.  It  was  a  mechanical  advan- 
tage to  separate  these  two  stanzas  from  the 
rest  in  order  that  so  long  a  piece  might  be 
sung  without  mutilation.  The  phenomenon 
of  a  sunrise  is  always  an  exquisite  surprise  to 
the  observer  who  is  unfamiliar  with  early  ri- 
sing. The  Oriental  dawn  seems  very  abrupt, 
for  there  is  really  no  twilight.  It  is  night — 
then  broad  day.  Most  critics  would  say  that, 
in  construction,  the  psalm  which  we  are  to 
study  here  is  perfect  as  a  lyric  hymn,  exquisite 
in  figure,  sublime  in  thought,  singularly  logi- 
cal in  its  form.  The  very  existence  of  these 
orbs  over  our  heads  proposes  the  proofs  of 
the  divine  omnipotence  and  godhead.  It 
simply  stuns  our  minds  to  assert  that  these 
were  without  any  maker ;  but  whoever  creates 
worlds,  he  it  is  that  is  our  God.  The  unde- 
vout  astronomer  is  mad.  Nature  leads  us  up 
directly  to  its  own  Creator,  and  points  him 
out :  "  The  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God  ; 
and  the  firmament  showeth  his  handiwork." 
One  of  the  most  interesting  of  historic  illus- 
trations has  been  given  to  us  in  the  confes- 
sions of  the  great  Augustine :  "  I  asked  the 


earth,  and  it  said,  '  I  am  not  He ;'  and  all  that 
is  upon  it  made  the  same  admission.  1  asked 
the  sea,  and  the  depths,  and  the  creeping 
things  which  have  life,  and  they  answered, 
'  We  are  not  thy  God ;  look  thou  above  us.' 
I  asked  the  breezes,  and  the  gales;  and  the 
whole  air  with  its  inhabitants  said  to  me, 
'Anaximenes  is  in  error;  I  am  not  God.'  I 
asked  the  heaven,  the  sun,  the  moon,  the  stars ; 
'  We  too,'  said  they,  '  are  not  the  God  whom 
thou  seekest.'  And  I  said  to  all  the  creatures 
which  surrounded  the  doors  of  my  fleshly 
senses,  '  Ye  have  declared  to  me  of '  my  God 
that  ye  are  not  he ;  tell  me  some\\hat  about 
him.'  And  with  a  great  voice  they  exclaimed, 
'  He  made  us.' " 

233  Psalm  19.  L.  M. 

Almighty  Lord,  the  sun  shall  fail, 
The  moon  forget  her  nightly  tale. 
And  deepest  silence  hush  on  high 
The  radiant  chorus  of  the  sky  ; — 

2  But  fixed  for  everlasting  years. 
Unmoved,  amid  the  wreck  of  spheres, 
Thy  word  shall  shine  in  cloudless  day 
When  heaven  and  earth  have  passed  away. 

This  is  a  hymn  brief  in  measure,  but  weighty 
in  suggestion.  Whoever  loves  to  sing  the 
nineteenth  Psalm  as  one  of  the  most  perfect 
religious  odes  known  to  have  been  written  by 
human  pen  will  prize  this  couplet  of  verses  as 
a  sort  of  compendium  of  the  whole  of  it ;  per- 
haps the  author  intended  it  to  be  a  translation. 
Sir  Robert  Grant  does  not  seem  ever  to  have 
given  the  churches  more  than  twelve  hymns, 
and  these  he  left  behind  him  in  an  imperfect 
form.  This  one  celebrates  the  solemn  and 
gracious  steadiness  of  the  stars  as  the  sym- 
bols of  God's  word  ;  as  they  stand  "  fixed  for 
everlasting  years,"  so  stand  his  promises. 

Once,  as  I  entered  the  obser\ator}'  of  Har- 
vard College,  at  the  close  of  day,  a  friend  who 
had  led  me  there  asked  that  I  might  be  shown 
the  new  instrument  that  had  just  been  intro- 
duced. The  professor  replied,  courteously, 
"  Yes ;  I  think  there  may  be  time  enough  yet 
for  him  to  see  a  star  if  you  will  find  one." 
My  companion  "  found  one  "  by  looking  in  a 
worn  little  book  of  astronomical  tables  lying 
there  on  the  desk,  and  replied  quietly,  "  There 
is  one  at  5  :  20."  So  in  a  hurried  instant  the 
covering  was  stripped  off  from  the  great  brass 
tube,  and  prone  upon  his  back,  under  the  eye- 
piece, lay  the  enthusiastic  professor.  While 
my  friend  stood  by  with  what  seemed  a  tack- 
hammer  in  his  hand,  I  noticed  that  he  kept 
his  eye  on  a  tall  chronometer  clock  near  us. 
Suddenly  two  sounds  broke  the  impressive 
stillness ;  we  had  been  waiting  for  the  stars. 
One  was  the  word  "there"  spoken   by  the 


THE  SCRIPTURES. 


105 


professor,  the  other  was  the  tap  of  the  ham- 
mer on  the  stone  top  of  the  table  by  my  com- 
panion. Both  occurred  at  the  same  instant — 
the  same  particle  of  the  instant — they  were 
positively  simultaneous.  But  the  man  who 
spoke  the  word  could  not  see  the  clock ;  he 
was  looking  at  the  star  that  came  swinging 
along  till  it  touched  the  spider-web  line  in  his 
instrument ;  and  the  other  man  who  struck 
the  hammer-stroke  could  not  see  the  star ;  he 
was  looking  at  the  second-hand  on  the  dial- 
plate.  When  the  index  in  its  simplicity  of 
regular  duty  marked  twenty  minutes  after 
five  there  fell  the  click  on  the  stone  ;  and  then, 
too,  there  came  on  in  the  heavens,  millions  of 
miles  away,  one  of  God's  stars,  having  no 
speech,  but  rolling  in  on  time,  as  he  bade  it 
ages  ago. 

Then  I  was  invited  to  look  in  and  see  the 
world  of  light  and  beauty  as  it  swept  by  the 
next  fiber  in  the  tube.  But  afterward  I  went 
curiously  to  the  book,  and  found  that  it  had 
been  published  ten  years  before,  and  that  its 
calculations  ran  far  away  into  the  future,  and 
that  it  had  been  based  on  calculations  a  thou- 
sand years  old.  And  God's  fidelity  to  the 
covenant  of  nature,  here  now  almost  three 
thousand  years  after  David  had  made  the 
nineteenth  Psalm,  had  brought  the  glorious 
creature  of  the  sky  into  the  field  of  Harvard 
College's  instrument  just  as  that  patient  clock 
reached  the  second  needed  for  the  truth  of 
the  ancient  prediction.  Need  I  say  that  those 
two  professors  almost  wondered  (so  used  to 
such  things  were  they)  at  the  awestruck  devo- 
tion, the  hushed  reverence,  with  which  I  left 
the  room  ? 

234  Christian  Evidence.  L.  M. 

Upon  the  Gospel's  sacred  page 
The  gathered  beams  of  ages  shine ; 

And,  as  it  hastens,  every  age 
But  makes  its  brightness  more  divine. 

2  On  mightier  wing,  in  loftier  flight, 
From  year  to  year  does  knowledge  soar ; 

And,  as  it  soars,  the  Gospel  light 
Becomes  effulgent  more  and  more. 

3  More  glorious,  still,  as  centuries  roll, 
New  regions  blest,  new  powers  unfurled, 

Expanding  with  the  expanding  soul, 
Its  radiance  shall  o'erflow  the  world — 

4  Flow  to  restore,  but  not  destroy ; 
As  when  the  cloudless  lamp  of  day 

Pours  out  its  floods  of  light  and  joy, 
And  sweeps  the  lingering  mists  away. 

Another  of  the  excellent  hymns  which  Sir 
John  Bowring,  the  distinguished  scholar  and 
diplomat,  has  given  to  the  churches.  It  is  to 
be  found  with  five  stanzas  in  his  Matins  and 
Vespers,  1823.  It  has  a  unique  value  from 
the  fact  that  almost  all  hymn-writers   have 


appeared  to  find  their  most  welcome  themes 
of  song  outside  of  the  fields  of  science.  This 
composition  worthily  notices  the  triumphs  of 
the  inspired  Word  over  the  oppositions  of 
something  beside  the  heathen  philosophies. 
The  late  Frank  Buckland  finished  his  last 
and  most  interesting  work.  The  Natural 
History  of  British  Fisheries,  just  two  days 
before  his  death.  This  was  the  dead  natural- 
ist's simple  creed :  "  To  put  matters  very 
straight,  I  steadfastly  believe  that  the  Great 
Creator,  as  indeed  we  are  directly  told,  made 
all  things  perfect  and  '  very  good '  from  the 
beginning ;  perfect  and  very  good  every 
created  thing  is  now  found  to  be,  and  will  so 
continue  to  the  end  of  time."  It  has  been 
said  that  science  is  opposed  to  and  in  con- 
flict with  revelation.  But  the  history  of  the 
former  shows  that  the  greater  its  progress, 
and  the  more  accurate  its  investigations  and 
results,  the  more  plainly  it  is  seen  not  only  not 
to  clash  with  the  latter,  but  in  all  things  to 
confirm  it.  The  very  sciences  from  which 
objections  have  been  brought  against  religion 
have  by  their  own  progress  removed  those 
objections,  and  in  the  end  furnished  full  con- 
firmation of  the  inspired  Word  of  God. 
There  is  a  species  of  minor  criticisms  put 
forward  with  harmful  ingenuity  at  the  present 
day,  which,  though  exceedingly  trivial,  do  yet 
in  their  results  become  vexatious.  They  will 
pass  the  notice  of  a  thoroughly  intelligent  or 
candid  man,  for  he  will  not  believe  them  to 
have  been  seriously  pressed  ;  but  they  are  the 
arguments  that  powerfully  move  small  minds, 
for  they  are  easily  grasped  and  held  with 
much  tenacity.  To  the  educated  Bible  stu- 
dent they  resemble  only  insects  of  little  bulk, 
though  of  vast  activity ;  and  he  hardly  deems 
it  needful  more  than  to  smite  them  with  the 
open  palm  of  his  hand  when  they  come  sing- 
ing in  his  ear,  only  that  their  sting  proves  an- 
noying and  sometimes  leaves  a  mean  irrita- 
tion behind  it. 

235  "Nature  sings."  L.  M. 

Now  let  my  soul,  eternal  King, 
To  thee  its  grateful  tribute  bring  ; 
My  knee  with  humble  homage  bow. 
My  tongue  perform  its  solemn  vow. 

3  All  nature  sings  thy  boundless  love, 
In  worlds  below  and  worlds  above ; 
But  in  thy  blessed  word  I  trace 
Diviner  wonders  of  thy  grace. 

3  Here  Jesus  bids  my  sorrows  cease. 
And  gives  my  laboring  conscience  peace ; 
Here  lifts  my  grateful  passions  high, 
And  points  to  mansions  in  the  sky. 

4  For  love  like  this,  oh,  let  my  song. 
Through  endless  years,  thy  praise  prolong  ; 
Let  distant  climes  thy  name  adore, 

Till  time  and  nature  are  no  more. 


io6 


THE  SCRIPTURES. 


The  Rev.  Ottivvell  Heginbothom,  an  Inde- 
pendent or  Congregational  minister  settled  for 
a  brief  while  in  Sudbury,  England,  was  born 
there  in  1744,  and  died  of  consumption  in 
1768,  at  the  early  age  of  twenty-four.  He  is 
said  to  have  been  remarkable  for  his  amiabil- 
ity, a  quality  made  quite  manifest  in  the  few- 
hymns  he  left  to  the  churches  to  be  cherished 
and  sung.  These  number  in  all  only  twenty- 
five,  and  while  they  are  characterized  by  much 
gentleness  and  sweetness  of  spirit,  the  general 
criticism  would  be  that  they  are  often  defi- 
cient in  strength  and  sometimes  fail  in  direct- 
ness. Some  of  them  are  hardly  original  in 
expression,  but  are  based  on  others  written 
by  Dr.  Watts.  From  the  beginning  of  his 
work  as  pastor  the  church  was  rent  by  dis- 
putes, and  he  sank  under  the  pressure  of  the 
dissensions  he  could  not  heal. 

236  Psalm  119.  C.  M. 

The  Spirit  breathes  upon  the  word, 
And  brings  the  truth  to  sight  ; 

Precepts  and  promises  afford 
A  sanctifying  liglit. 

2  A  glory  gilds  the  sacred  page. 
Majestic,  like  the  sun  ; 

It  gives  a  light  to  every  age — 
It  gives,  but  borrows  none. 

3  The  hand  that  gave  it  still  supplies 
The  gracious  light  and  heat ; 

Its  truths  upon  the  nations  rise — 
They  rise,  but  never  set. 

4  Let  everlasting  thanks  be  thine 
For  such  a  bright  display 

As  makes  a  world  of  darkness  shine 
With  beams  of  heavenly  day. 

5  My  soul  rejoices  to  pursue 
The  steps  of  him  I  love. 

Till  glory  breaks  upon  my  view 
In  Drighter  worlds  above. 

We  must  study  this  hymn,  written  by  the 
well-known  poet,  William  Cowper,  in  con- 
nection with  the  awful  experience  out  of 
which  it  came.  In  one  instance  at  least  an 
afflicted  child  of  God  has  attempted  to  de- 
scribe the  processes  of  his  mind  when  he  was 
standing  upon  the  actual  verge  of  madness. 
He  says :  "  Conscience  throws  open  the  doors 
of  memory,  and  out  rushes  a  crowd  of  spec- 
ters. Ghosts  of  falsehoods,  recollections  of 
guilty  envyings  and  hatreds,  soiled  appari- 
tions of  dead  lusts,  all  return  to  accuse  and 
condemn.  Be  sure  that  some  day  your  sin 
will  find  you  out,  and  a  thousand  images  of 
unliving  things  peopling  the  darkness  will  fill 
you  with  agony  and  fear."  The  remedy  that 
IS  offered  for  this  is  found  in  the  Bible ;  three 
texts  of  Deuteronomy  once  defeated  the  devil 
when  he  was  tempting  the  Lord  Jesus.  But, 
now  and  then,  the  Scriptures  yield  no  clear 
iristruction  on  the   exact    point  where    our 


trouble  lodges.  Then  what  is  needed  is  the 
illumination  by  the  Holy  Ghost ;  "  God  is  his 
own  interpreter,"  as  this  same  poet  sings  in 
another  of  his  hymns.  In  November,  1762, 
Cowper  attempted  to  take  his  own  life;  he 
hung  himself  to  the  bed-frame  ;  and,  as  that 
gave  way,  secured  the  cord  to  the  edge  of  the 
door,  and  swung  himself  off  from  a  chair; 
the  rope  broke  ;  he  was  saved  again  ;  but  ever 
after  that,  in  his  awful  moments,  he  supposed 
that  he  had  committed  the  unpardonable  sin. 
But  in  July,  1764,  he  was  reading  the  Bible 
out  in  his  garden,  seeking  almost  hopelessly 
for  texts  which  might  bring  relief  to  his  pain. 
Among  the  very  earliest  he  found  was  this, 
(Romans  3:24,  25):  "Being  justified  freely 
by  his  grace  through  the  redemption  that  is 
in  Christ  Jesus ;  whom  God  hath  set  forth  to 
be  a  propitiation  through  faith  in  his  blood, 
to  declare  his  righteousness  for  the  remission 
of  sins  that  are  past,  through  the  forbearance 
of  God."  The  effect  of  this  verse  upon  his 
entire  being  was  instantaneous,  permanent, 
and  revolutionary.  He  tells  us  the  happy 
result :  "  Immediately  I  received  strength  to 
believe,  and  the  full  beams  of  the  Sun  of 
Righteousness  shone  upon  me.  I  saw  the 
sufficiency  of  the  atonement  Christ  had  made, 
my  pardon  in  his  blood,  and  the  fullness  and 
completeness  of  his  justification.  In  a  mo- 
ment I  believed  and  received  the  Gospel." 

237  Psalm  119.  CM. 

How  shall  the  young  secure  their  hearts 

And  guard  their  lives  from  sin  ! 
Thy  word  the  choicest  rules  imparts 

To  keep  the  conscience  clean. 

■J  When  once  it  enters  to  the  mind, 

It  spreads  such  light  abroad, 
The  meanest  souls  instruction  find. 

And  raise  their  thoughts  to  God. 

3  'Tis  like  the  sun,  a  heavenly  light, 
That  guides  us  all  the  day  : 

And,  through  the  dangers  of  the  night, 
A  lamp  to  lead  our  way. 

4  Thy  precepts  make  me  truly  wise ; 
1  hate  the  sinner's  road  ; 

I  hate  my  own  vain  thoughts  that  rise, 
But  love  thy  law,  my  God  ! 

5  Thy  word  is  everlasting  truth  ; 
How  pure  is  every  page  ! 

That  holy  book  shall  guide  our  youth 
And  well  support  our  age. 

Dr.  Isaac  Watts  did  not  tr>'  to  arrange  in 
their  regular  order  the  verses  of  Psalm  119, 
of  which  this  is  his  Fourth  Part,  C.  M. 
Often  he  transposed  one  and  another  accord- 
ing to  their  sentiment,  so  as  to  accommodate 
the  progress  of  thought  to  the  conveniences 
of  singing.  A  favorite  Sunday-school  piece 
this  has  always  been,  melodic  and  useful. 

The  ancients  painted   Youth  with  a  vail 


THE  SCRIPTURES. 


107 


over  his  face,  and  Time  was  pulling  it  away 
thread  by  thread  so  as  to  permit  him  to  see 
clearly ;  and  this  is  a  fair  illustration  from 
which  young  converts  may  learn  a  lesson. 
You  do  not  need  to  study  the  creeds  of  the 
casuists  or  the  systems  of  the  theologians. 
But  you  do  want  to  know  your  Bibles  thor- 
oughly. It  is  a  reproach  to  have  it  said  that 
you  would  rather  go  far  aijd  work,  hard  to  be 
at  the  head  of  a  class  thap  t-o  spend  one  quiet 
hour  at  home  teaching  your  own  soul  what 
God  has  intended  to  say  for  its  own  growth 
and  improvement.  Enter  classes  for  a  while. 
Study  the  Bible  before  you  attempt  to  ex- 
pound it.  I  am  discouraging  no  one.  When 
I  find  a  young  man  willing  to  go  through  the 
drill  day  after  day  in  the  camp  of  instruction, 
I  begin  to  be  very  hopeful  for  his  future.  I 
know  the  time  will  not  be  long  before  he  will 
be  summoned  to  lead  in  the  army  of  God. 

238  Psalm  iig.  C.  M. 

How  precious  is  the  book  divine, 

By  inspiration  given  ! 
Bright  as  a  lamp  its  doctrines  shine, 

To  guide  our  souls  to  heaven. 

2  O'er  all  the  strait  and  narrow  way 
Its  radiant  beams  are  cast ; 

A  light  whose  never  weary  ray 
Grows  brightest  at  the  last. 

3  It  sweetly  cheers  our  drooping  hearts, 
In  this  dark  vale  of  tears ; 

Life,  light,  and  joy  it  still  imparts, 
And  quells  our  rising  fears. 

4  This  lamp,  through  all  the  tedious  night 
Of  life,  shall  guide  our  way. 

Till  we  behold  the  clearer  light 
Of  an  eternal  day. 

In  1782  Rev.  Dr.  John  Fawcett,  who  did 
not  receive  his  degree  of  D.  D.  until  it  was 
conferred  upon  him  by  an  American  institu- 
tion in  1 8 II ,  Brown  University  in  Rhode 
Island,  published  his  collection,  entitled 
Hymns  Adapted  to  the  Circumstances  of 
Public  Worship  and  Private  Devotion. 
The  one  under  our  examination  now  was 
among  the  one  hundred  and  sixty-six  which 
composed  that  volume.  They  were  largely 
prepared,  like  most  of  those  by  Doddridge 
and  Watts,  to  be  sung  after  particular  ser- 
mons to  which  they  had  reference  ;  it  is  said 
that  many  were  composed  in  the  midnight 
hours  preceding  the  Lord's  Day.  This  was 
founded  upon  Psalm  119:105:  "Thy  word 
is  a  lamp  unto  my  feet."  It  receives  a  pa- 
thetic illustration  in  the  reflections  which  this 
good  man  wrote  upon  the  pages  of  his  diary 
in  the  time  of  his  deep  heart-searching  as  to 
his  individual  duty  in  choosing  the  ministry 
as  a  profession.  He  went  to  his  Bible  for  aid ; 
he  studied,  and  he  prayed  for  help ;  thus  he 
found  light  upon  his  path  of  difficult  decision. 


"  O  Lord,"  he  said,  "  I  know  not  what  to  do, 
but  my  eyes  are  upon  thee.  If  in  thy  wise 
counsel  thou  hast  fixed  upon  me  to  bear  thy 
name  to  sinners,  I  earnestly  implore  that  thou 
wouldst  give  me  a  right  spirit,  and  bestow 
upon  me  every  needful  qualification  for  that 
most  difficult  and  important  work.  If  thou 
dost  not  call  me  to  it,  O  Father,  not  my  will, 
but  thine,  be  done."  He  began  to  preach  in 
1764,  and  the  next  year  he  became  pastor  of 
a  small  Baptist  church  at  Wainsgate,  York- 
shire, July  31,  1765. 

239  "Endless  glory."  CM. 

Father  of  mercies  !  in  thy  word 

What  endless  glorj-  shines  ! 
For  ever  be  thy  name  adored 

For  these  celestial  lines. 

2  Here  the  fair  tree  of  knowledge  grows, 
And  yields  a  free  repast ; 

Sublimer  sweets  than  nature  knows 
Invite  the  longing  taste. 

3  Here,  the  Redeemer's  welcome  voice 
Spreads  heavenly  peace  around  ; 

Ana  life  and  everlasting  joys 
Attend  the  blissful  sound. 

4  Oh,  may  these  heavenly  pages  be 
My  ever  dear  delight ; 

And  still  new  beauties  may  I  see, 
And  still  increasing  light. 

5  Divine  Instructor,  gracious  Lord  ! 
Be  thou  for  ever  near ; 

Teach  me  to  love  thy  sacred  word. 
And  view  my  Saviour  there. 

On  the  Tuesday  before  his  death,  Mr. 
Thomas  Bywater  Smithies  —  the  genial- 
hearted  editor  of  the  British  Work7nan  for 
so  many  years,  known  all  over  the  habitable 
globe  for  his  works  of  kindness  and  philan- 
thropy— while  quietly  resting  and  apparently 
asleep,  suddenly  broke  the  silence  of  his 
chamber  by  repeating  in  a  firm  and  joyous 
tone  the  verse : 

"  Father  of  mercies  !  in  thy  word 
What  endless  glory  shines  ! 
For  ever  be  thy  name  adored 
For  these  celestial  lines." 

This  is  the  opening  stanza  of  a  hymn  con- 
taining twelve  verses,  from  which  in  our 
modern  collections  seven  are  usually  omitted. 
The  original  poem  was  written  by  Miss  Anne 
Steele,  of  Broughton,  Hants,  in  England.  It 
seems  like  the  passionate  outcry  of  a  loving 
soul  after  God  as  revealed  in  the  Bible.  This 
is  the  "way  in  which  the  author  framed  her 
hymns.  And  this  is  the  way  in  which  John 
Wesley  fashioned  his  theology.  Said  he  :  "I 
want  to  know  one  thing — the  way  to  heaven. 
God  himself  has  condescended  to  teach  me 
the  way.  He  hath  written  it  down  in  a  book. 
Oh,  give  me  that  book.  At  any  price  give 
me  the  book  of  God.  I  have  it.  Here  is 
knowledge  enough  for  me.     Let  me  be  homo 


io8 


THE  SCRIPTURES. 


unius  libri.  Here,  then,  I  am  far  from  the 
busy  ways  of  men ;  1  sit  down  alone ;  only 
God  is  here.  In  his  presence  I  read  his  book 
for  this  end — to  find  the  way  to  heaven.  Is 
there  a  doubt  concerning  the  meaning  of  what 
I  read  ?  I  lift  up  my  heart  to  the  Father  of 
lights  and  ask  him  to  let  me  know  his  will ;  I 
then  search  after  and  consider  parallel  passa- 
ges of  Scripture.  I  meditate  thereon  with  all 
the  attention  and  •earnestness  of  which  my 
mind  is  capable.  If  any  doubt  still  remains, 
I  consult  those  who  are  experienced  in  the 
things  of  God,  and  then  the  writings  whereby, 
being  dead,  they  yet  speak ;  and  what  I  thus 
learn,  that  I  teach." 

240  Psalm  119.  C  M. 

Oh,  how  I  love  thy  holy  law  ! 

'T  is  daily  my  delight ; 
And  thence  my  meditations  draw 

Divine  advice  by  night. 

2  How  doth  thy  word  my  heart  engage! 
How  well  employ  my  tongue  ! 

AHd  in  my  tiresome  pilgrimage 
Yields  me  a  heavenly  song. 

3  Am  I  a  stranger,  or  at  home, 
'Tis  my  perpetual  feast : 

Not  honey  dropping  from  the  comb 
So  much  allures  the  taste. 

4  No  treasures  so  enrich  the  mind, 
Nor  shall  thy  word  be  sold 

For  loads  of  silver  well-refined. 
Nor  heaps  of  choicest  gold. 

5  When  nature  sinks,  and  spirits  droop, 
Thy  promises  of  grace  i 

Are  pillars  to  support  my  hope. 
And  there  I  write  thy  praise. 

Dr.  Isaac  Watts  gives  us  this  as  his  ren- 
dering of  Psalm  119,  C.  M.,  Fifth  Part.  He 
has  entitled  his  composition,  "  Delight  in 
Scripture ;  or,  the  Word  of  God  Dwelling  in 
us."  It  is  evident  that  this  father  of  English 
hymnolog}'  took  his  own  supreme  delight  in 
studying  the  word  of  God,  for  his  rendering 
of  the  inspired  temple  songs  shows  often  his 
very  best  work.  The  great  man  becarfie  a 
child  in  his  study  of  the  Scriptures  ;  they  en- 
gaged his  heart,  they  employed  his  tongue. 
A  noble  monument  has  been  erected  to  his 
memory  by  voluntary  subscription  in  the  city 
of  Soutliampton,  where  he  was  born.  It  rep- 
resents the  poet  in  ministerial  robe,  preaching 
with  the  Book  in  his  hand.  On  the  north 
side  is  a  marble  tablet  with  the  following  in- 
scription after  the  name : 

"An  example  of  the  talents  of  a  large  and  liberal 
mind,  wholly  devoted  to  the  promotion  of" piety,  virtue, 
and  literature.  A  name  honored  for  his  sacred  hj'mns 
wherever  the  English  language  extends.  Especially 
the  friend  of  children  and  of  youth,  for  whose  best  wel- 
fare he  labored  well  and  wisely,  without  thought  of 
lame  or  gain." 

The  motive   which   controlled    this   good 


DR.  watts'  monument  at  SOL'THAMPTON. 

man's  life  is  easily  seen  in  the  simple  expres- 
sions which  were  remembered  afterwards  by 
the  friends  who  stood  around  his  bed  when 
he  died.  "  I  would  be  waiting  to  see  what 
God  will  do  with  me.  It  is  good  to  say,  as 
Mr.  Baxter,  '  What,  when,  and  where  God 
pleases.'  The  business  of  a  Christian  is  to 
do  and  hear  the  will  of  God  ;  and  if  I  were  in 
health  I  could  but  be  doing  that,  and  that  I 
may  be  now.  If  God  should  raise  me  up 
again,  I  may  finish  some  more  of  my  papers, 
or  God  can  make  use  of  me  to  save  a  soul ; 
and  that  will  be  worth  living  for.  If  God  has 
no  more  service  for  me  to  do,  I  am  ready 
through  grace.  It  is  a  great  mercy  to  me 
that  I  have  no  manner  of  fear  or  dread  of 
death.  I  could,  if  God  please,  lay  my  head 
back  and  die  without  alarm  this  afternoon  or 
night.  My  chief  supports  are  from  my  view 
of  eternal  things,  and  the  interest  I  have  in 
them ;  I  trust  all  my  sins  are  pardoned 
through  the  blood  of  Christ." 

24 1  Psalm  J 19.  C.  M. 

Oh,  that  the  Lord  would  guide  my  ways 

To  keep  his  statutes  still: 
Oh,  that  my  God  would  grant  me  grace 

To  know'  and  do  his  will. 

2  Oh,  send  thy  Spirit  down,  to  write 
Thy  law  upon  my  heart ; 

Nor  let  my  tongue  indulge  deceit, 
Or  act  the  liar's  part. 

3  Order  my  footsteps  by  thy  word, 
And  make  my  heart  sincere ; 

Let  sin  have  no  dominion,  Lord  ! 
But  keep  my  conscience  clear. 


THE   SCRIPTURES. 


109 


4  Make  me  to  walk  in  thy  commands — 

'T  is  a  delightful  road  ; 
Nor  Wt  my  head,  or  heart,  or  hands 

Offend  against  my  God. 

Dr.  Isaac  Watts  gives  us  this  as  his  version 
of  Psahn  119,  Eleventh  Part.  The  piece  has 
six  stanzas  in  all,  and  is  entitled,  "  Breathing 
after  Holiness."  It  well  pictures  the  necessity 
of  some  fixed  aim  of  the  soul  in  seeking  a 
closer  communion  with  Christ  and  a  greater 
achievement  of  likeness  to  him ;  and  it  lauds 
the  gracious  gift  of  God's  Word  as  our  de- 
pendence and  help.  "  Sanctify  them  through 
thy  truth ;  thy  word  is  truth."  Thus  our 
Saviour  prayed  for  his  disciples  long  ago. 

"  You  see  that  buoy,  sir,  moored  in  the 
bay,"  said  the  captain  of  the  steamship  in 
which  we  visited  the  Orkneys.  "  Yes,"  we  re- 
plied, after  carefully  picking  out  in  the  twilight 
the  well-known  danger-signal.  "  Well,  there 
is  a  reef  of  rocks  that,  starting  from  the  shore, 
runs  to  a  point  within  ten  yards  of  that  buoy. 
The  worst  thing  about  it  is  that  there  is  no 
indication  of  the  reef ;  even  at  low  tide  it  is 
covered  with  water,  and  woe  be  to  the  ship 
that  should  strike  upon  that  dangerous  reef. 
In  the  dark  nights  that  buoy  is  an  object  of 
deep  interest  to  me ;  anxiously  do  I  look  out 
for  it,  and  we  steer  with  care  until  it  is  found." 
As  we  conversed  with  the  captain  we  ascer- 
tained that  he  knew  all  this  by  faith ;  that  the 
reef  was  simply  marked  in  his  chart — that  he 
has  never  proved  for  himself  the  fact,  he  had 
never  been  in  a  boat  and  sounded  the  depth, 
or,  better  still,  dived  down  to  ascertain  by 
personal  knowledge  that  the  reef  was  there. 
He  was  a  believer,  and  rested  in  the  testi- 
mony of  his  charts,  even  as  we  who  are  be- 
lievers and  Christians  trust  in  the  testimony 
of  the  word  of  God. 

242  The  Church's  Gift.  7s,  6s,  D. 

O  Word  of  God  incarnate, 

O  Wisdom  from  on  high, 
O  Truth  unchanged,  unchanging, 

O  Li^ht  of  our  dark  sky ! 
We  praise  thee  for  the  radiance 

That  from  the  hallowed  page, 
A  lantern  to  our  footsteps. 

Shines  on  from  age  to  age. 

2  The  Church  from  her  dear  Master 
Received  the  gift  divine. 

And  still  that  light  she  lifteth 

O'er  all  the  earth  to  shine. 
It  is  the  golden  casket 

V'here  gems  of  truth  are  stored, 
It  is  the  heaven-drawn  picture 

Of  Christ  the  living  Word. 

3  Oh,  make  thy  Church,  dear  Saviour, 
A  lamp  of  burnished  gold, 

To  bear  before  the  nations 

Thy  true  light  as  of  old  ; 
Oh,  teach  thy  wandering  pilgrims 

By  this  their  path  to  trace, 
Till,  clouds  and  darkness  ended, 

They  see  thee  face  to  face. 


RHV.  WILLIAM    W,  HOW,  D.  D. 

Rev.  William  Walsham  How,  D.  D.,  be- 
came Bishop  of  Bedford  by  appointment  of 
Queen  Victoria  in  July,  1879.  He  was  bom 
in  Shrewsbury,  December  13,  1823,  and  his 
preparatory  studies  for  college  were  pursued 
there ;  then  he  went  to  Oxford  and  was  grad- 
uated from  Wadham  College  in  1845.  He 
entered  the  ministry  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land at  once,  being  ordained  to  the  priest- 
hood in  1847.  For  a  while  he  served  as 
curate  of  St.  George's  in  Kidderminster,  but 
in  1 85 1  he  became  rector  of  Whittington, 
Shropshire,  where  he  was  engaged  in  diligent 
and  faithful  parish  work  for  twenty-eight 
years.  Of  this  period  of  his  life  a  record  has 
been  made  which,  while  accurately  true, 
seems  to  read  like  a  panegyric ;  indeed,  the 
words  are  his  own,  spoken  in  public  when 
he  was  describing  what  a  real  minister  of 
God  should  be,  and  every  one  appears  to 
have  been  impressed  with  the  fitness  with 
which  they  described  the  preacher  who  uttered 
them,  as  he  stood  there  with  a  heart  full  of 
zeal :  "A  man  pure,  holy,  and  spotless  in  his 
life ;  a  man  of  much  prayer ;  in  character 
meek,  lowly,  and  infinitely  compassionate ;  of 
tenderest  love  to  all;  full  of  sympathy  for 
every  pain  and  sorrow,  and  devoting  his  days 
and  nights  to  lightening  the  burdens  of  hu- 
manity ;  utterly  patient  of  insult  and  enmity ; 
utterly  fearless  in  speaking  the  truth  and  re- 
buking sin ;  ever  ready  to  answer  every  call, 
to  go  wherever  bidden,  in  order  to  do  good ; 
wholly  without  thought  of  self ;  making  him- 
self the  servant  of  all ;  patient,  gentle,  and 
untiring  in  dealing  with  the  souls  he  would 
save ;    bearing    with    ignorance,    wilfulness. 


no 


GOD  : — THE   FATHER. 


slowness,  cowardice,  in  those  of  whom  he 
expects  most ;  sacrificing  all,  even  life  itself, 
if  need  be,  to  save  some." 

After  this  extensive  service,  along  the  course 
of  which  Dr.  How  discharged  many  public 
functions  and  received  many  preferments,  it 
was  believed  that  he  would  be  more  useful  in 
a  very  much  larger  sphere  of  labor  and  re- 
sponsibility. So  he  was  raised  to  the  episco- 
pate, and  was  removed  to  the  East  End  of 
London ;  there  he  now  remains,  efficient  and 
beloved.  His  composition  of  hymns  is  a 
somewhat  late  disclosure  of  an  unsuspected 
gift.  Very  few  of  his  pieces  are  to  be  found 
in  the  books  of  worship  in  use  in  Great  Brit- 
ain. The  author  of  Anglican  Hymnology,  in 
giving  his  explanation  of  so  .strange  a  fact  as 
that  only  one  third-class  hymn  is  included  in 
the  hymnals  he  searched  as  written  by  so  ex- 
cellent a  poet,  says  that  this  is  owing  to  the 
dates  of  his  work ;  the  hymnals  were  made 
before  his  poetry  was  published ;  and  he  in- 
cludes, as  sure  to  be  among  "  the  hymns  of 
the  future,"  a  goodly  number  of  those  now  in 
use  in  the  churches,  introduced  by  collections 
made  in  this  decade. 

_  The  beautiful  lyric  now  under  our  examina- 
tion finds  a  fine  illustration  in  the  inaugural 
words  of  its  author  as  he  assumed  his  office : 
"  I  am  resolved  not  to  be  a  Bishop  of  any 
party,  but  while  openly  avowing  my  own  views 
and  preferences,  to  help  and  encourage,  so  far 
as  in  me  lies,  all  who  are  honestly  laboring  in 
the  great  cause  and  faithfully  setting  forth  to 
their  people  the  Gospel  of  our  common  Lord 
and  Master."  Such  was  the  resolve  to  which 
Dr.  How  committed  himself  on  his  first  ap- 
pearance in  his  diocese  ;  and  to  it  he  has  stead- 
ily adhered. 


243  Psalm  19. 

The  heavens  declare  his  glory, 

Their  Maker's  skill  the  skies  ; 
Each  day  repeats  the  story, 

And  night  to  night  replies. 
Their  silent  proclamation 

Throughout  the  earth  is  heard ; 
The  record  of  creation, 

The  page  of  nature's  word. 

2  So  pure,  so  soul-restoring, 
Is  truth's  diviner  ray  ; 

A  brighter  radiance  pouring 
Than  all  the  pomp  of  day: 

The  wanderer  surely  guiding, 
It  makes  the  simple  wise  ; 

And,  evermore  abiding, 
Unfailing  joy  supplies. 

3  Thy  word  is  richer  treasure 
Than  lurks  within  the  mine  ; 

And"daintiest  fare  less  pleasure 
Yields  than  this  food  divine. 

How  wise  each  kind  monition  ! 
Led  by  thy  counsels,  Lord, 

How  safe  the  saints'  condition, 
How  great  is  their  reward  ! 


This  is  one  of  the  best  of  those  versions  of 
particular  Psalms  which  Josiah  Conder  in- 
cluded among  the  hymns  he  published  in  the 
collection  that  bears  his  name.  It  furnishes  a 
fair  and  excellent  example  of  the  various  fe- 
licities of  his  composition.  The  nineteenth 
Psalm  in  our  Psalter  seems  to  present  a  day- 
picture,  as  the  eighth  Psalm  seems  to  present 
a  night-picture,  both  of  which  must  for  many 
years  have  been  familiar  to  David  as  he  kept 
his  father's  flocks  on  Bethlehem  hills. 

The  Word  of  God  becomes  valuable  only 
when  it  becomes  practical.  It  needs  to  be  put 
into  immediate  use.  One  who  gets  any  ben- 
efit from  daylight  obtains  it  by  placing  himself 
where  it  is  falling,  and  then  absorbing  it.  That 
was  John's  best  lesson  from  the  Apocalypse : 
"And  I  saw  an  angel  standing  in  the  sun !" 
That  was  what  made  the  angel  a  seraph.  Truth 
must  be  worked  out  into  a  useful  life.  In  a 
famous  collection  of  sayings  of  noted  Jewish 
students  and  teachers  of  the  law,  the  Pirke 
Aboth,  or  Ethics  of  the  Fathers,  it  is  said  that 
among  the  frequenters  of  the  house  of  study 
four  kinds  of  characters  are  discerned.  Many 
a  one  goes  thither,  but  does  not  conduct  him- 
self according  to  the  instruction  he  has  heard ; 
this  one  has  at  least  the  merit  of  having  gone 
thither.  Another  practises  w^hat  is  taught 
there,  but  goes  not  thither ;  this  one  experi- 
ences a  reward  for  his  deed.  Another  still 
frequents  the  school,  and  makes  what  he  there 
learns  his  whole  business ;  this  one  is  truly 
pious.  Lastly,  there  is  a  class  which  will 
neither  hear  nor  do  ;  these  deserve  to  be  called 
godless. 


244  Everlasting.— Psa.  90.  7s,  6s.  D. 

O  God,  the  Rock  of  Ages, 
Who  evermore  hast  been, 
_^  What  time  the  tempest  rages, 

7s,  OS.  U.  Qyj.  dwelling-place  serene; 

Before  thy  first  creations, 

O  Lord,  the  same  as  now, 
To  endless  generations, 
The  Everlasting  thou  ! 

2  Our  years  are  like  the  shadows 
On  sunny  hills  that  lie, 

Or  grasses  in  the  meadows 
That  t)lossom  but  to  die: 

A  sleep,  a  dream,  a  story. 
By  strangers  quickly  told, 

An  unremaining  glory 
Of  things  that  soon  are  old. 

3  O  thou  who  canst  not  slumber, 
Whose  light  grows  never  pale, 

Teach  us  aright  to  number 
Our  years  before  they  fail  ! 

On  us  thy  mercy  lighten, 
On  us  thy  goodness  rest, 

And  let  thy  Spirit  brighten 
The  hearts  tliyself  hast  blessed  ! 

The  present  hymn  was  composed  in  1 862 ; 
it  has  four  double  stanzas  as  it  appears  in  the 
book  published  by  the  Rev.  Edward  Henry 


ATTRIBUTES. 


REV.    E.    H.    BICKERSTETH,   D.  D. 

Bickersteth,  D.  D.,  From  Year  to  Year,  1883. 
There  it  is  assigned  to  the  first  Sunday  after 
Christmas.  We  recognize  it  instantly  as  an 
exquisite  and  almost  literal  rendering  of  cer- 
tain verses  in  Psalm  90,  and  yet  the  author 
added  a  reference  to  Isaiah  40 : 8,  as  having 
suggested  it.' 

Dr.  Bickersteth  was  born  in  Islington,  Lon- 
don, January  25,  1825.  Graduating  from 
Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  1847,  he  soon 
became  curate  of  the  church  in  Banningham, 
Norfolk,  England,  and  afterward  of  that  in 
Tunbridge  Wells.  His  next  removal  made 
him  the  rector  of  Hinton  Martell  in  Dorset, 
and  then  in  1855  he  received  the  incumbency 
of  Christ  Church,  Hampstead.  There  he 
wrote  most  of  the  hymns  which  have  found 
their  way  into  use.  The  contributions  to  the 
service  of  song  in  the  house  of  God,  which 
this  author  made,  have  been  varied  and  val- 
uable ;  and  yet  his  name  is  not  to  be  found  in 
any  one  of  the  three  lists  of  first-class,  sec- 
ond-class, or  third-class  compositions  men- 
tioned in  Anglican  Hymnology.  From  the 
large  majority  of  the  hymnals  used  in  the 
British  Empire  his  work  seems  to  be  con- 
spicuously absent. 

In  1885  this  author  received  the  degree  of 
Doctor  of  Divinity  by  the  grace  of  Cambridge 
University,  and  that  season  also  he  became 
Dean  of  Gloucester  Cathedral ;  then  he  was 
suddenly  called  to  the  bishopric  of  Exeter,  to 
which  he  was  consecrated  that  same  year. 
Still  full  of  life  and  poetry  and  usefulness,  he 
resides  at  the  palace,  one  of  England's  most 
popular  and  beloved  prelates  in  the  Estab- 
lished Church. 


245  Omnipresent. 

On  mountains  and  in  valleys 
Where'er  we  go  is  God  ; 

The  cottaRe  and  the  palace 
Alike  are  his  abod«;. 


7S,  6s.  D. 


With  watchful  eye  abidinjj 

Upon  us  witli  delight, 
Our  souls,  in  him  confiding, 

He  keeps  both  day  and  nigiit. 

2  Above  me  and  beside  me, 

My  God  is  ever  near 
To  watch,  protect,  anil  guide  me, 

Whatever  ills  appear. 
Though  other  friends  may  fail  me  ; 

In  sorrow's  dark  abode, 
Though  death  itself  assail  me, 

I  'm  ever  safe  with  God. 

This  hymn  was  found  in  the  Collection  of 
the  English  Presbyterian  Church,  1867  ;  taken 
from  that  into  Latides  Domini,  it  was  intro- 
duced to  the  American  public.  Though  the 
name  of  the  author  of  it  is  vailed  in  obscuri- 
ty, and  even  that  of  the  translator  is  unknown, 
still  the  song  has  become  familiar  with  us  and 
is  growing  welcome  in  the  hymnals  of  all  the 
churches.  It  has  no  data  beyond  this : 
"  Dutch  Hymn." 


246 


Sovereign  Love. 


7s,  6s.  D. 


'T  IS  not  that  I  did  choose  thee, 

For,  Lord  !  that  could  not  be ; 
This  heart  would  still  refuse  thee  ; 

But  thou  hast  chosen  me  ; 
Hast,  from  the  sin  that  stained  nie, 

Washed  me  and  set  me  free, 
And  to  this  end  ordained  me, 

That  I  should  live  to  thee. 

3  'Twas  sovereign  mercy  called  me. 

And  taught  my  opening  mind  ; 
The  world  had  else  enthralled  me, 

To  heavenly  glories  blind. 
My  heart  owns  none  above  thee  ; 

For  thy  rich  grace  I  thirst ; 
This  knowing — if  I  love  thee, 

Thou  must  have  loved  me  first. 

This  hymn  was  written  by  Josiah  Conder, 
and  is  interesting  as  showing  that  one  of  the 
most  rugged  doctrines  of  the  Calvinistic  the- 
ology can  be  set  to  music  and  sung  with  good 
rhythm.  It  is  a  singular  thing  to  find  one  in- 
spired writer  calling  another  "  bold."  But 
this  is  what  Paul  once  wrote :  "  Esaias  is 
very  bold,  and  saith,  I  was  found  of  them 
that  sought  me  not ;  I  was  made  manifest 
unto  them  that  asked  not  after  me."  A 
quotation  with  approval  signifies  agreement. 
John  takes  up  the  same  theme,  and  goes  a 
step  further ;  he  asserts  that  our  feeling  is  the 
result  of  God's :  "  We  love  him  because  he 
first  loved  us."  It  requires  a  positive  effort 
to  open  our  minds  to  a  thought  so  stupen- 
dous, namely,  that  the  Almighty  is  really 
found  sometimes  by  those  who  are  not  ex- 
perimentally seeking  him.  That  is  to  say, 
there  is  a  sovereign  love  of  God  which  goes 
out  after  a  human  soul  before  that  soul  has 
even  so  far  started  out  for  God  as  to  wish  for 
him.  That  is  the  moment  in  which  one  can 
be  certainly  saved.  Procrastination  is  peril- 
ous.    The  old  Spanish  proverb  says,  "  The 


112 


GOD  : — THE   FATHER. 


road  of  By  and-by  leads  to  the  town  of  Nev- 
er." 

247  The  Trinity.  L.  M. 

Father  of  heaven,  wiiose  love  profound 
A  ransom  for  our  souls  hath  found, 
Before  thy  throne  we  sinners  bend  ; 
To  us  thy  pardoning  love  extend. 

2  Almighty  Son — incarnate  Word — 
Our  Prophet,  Priest,  Redeemer,  Lord  ! 
Before  thy  throne  we  sinners  bend  ; 
To  us  thy  saving  grace  extend. 

3  Eternal  Spirit !  by  whose  breath 
The  soul  is  raised  from  sin  and  death. 
Before  thy  throne  we  sinners  bend  ; 
To  us  thy  quickening  power  extend. 

4  Jehovah  ! — Father,  Spirit,  Son  ! 
Mysterious  Godhead  ! — Three  in  One ! 
Before  thy  throne  we  sinners  bend  ; 
Grace,  pardon,  life  to  us  extend. 

The  authorship  of  this  hymn  is  obscure. 
It  is  attributed  to  the  Rev.  Edward  Cooper,  a 
clergyman  of  the  Church  of  England,  who 
died  in  1833.  He  was  a  Fellow  of  All  Souls 
College,  Oxford.  In  1809  he  was  rector  of 
Yoxhall,  Staffordshire.  This  faithful  minister 
is  better  known  through  his  volumes  of  Prac- 
tical and  Familiar  Sermons  ;  these  discourses 
are  characterized  by  Bickersteth  as  being 
"  plain,  sound,  and  useful."  In  the  hymn 
under  notice  the  same  qualities  are  discerned ; 
for,  while  it  lacks  in  poetical  imagination,  it  is 
replete  with  majestic  thought  and  sober  Chris- 
tian devotion.  The  earliest  known  issue  of 
it  is  found  in  a  book  entitled  Portions  of  the 
Psalms,  chiefly  selected  from  the  versions  of 
Merrick  and  Watts,  with  Occasional  Hymns, 
adapted  to  the  Service  of  the  Church,  for 
er'ery  Sunday  in  the  Year :  Uttoxeter,  1 808. 
There  it  appears  in  the  form  used  in  Laudes 
Domini. 

248  Unsearchableness.  L.  M. 

With  deepest  reverence  at  thy  throne, 
Jehovah,  peerless  and  unknown  ! 
Our  feeble  spirits  strive,  in  vain, 
A  glimpse  of  thee,  great  God  !  to  gain. 

2  Who,  by  the  closest  search,  can  find 
The  eternal,  uncreated  Mind  ? 

Nor  men,  nor  angels  can  explore 

Thy  heights  of  love,  thy  depths  of  power. 

3  That  power  we  trace  on  every  side  ; 
Oh,  may  thy  wisdom  be  our  guide  ! 
And  while  we  live,  and  when  we  die, 
May  thine  almighty  love  be  nigh. 

The  Rev.  Edmund  Butcher  was  born  at 
Colchester,  Essex,  England,  in  1757.  He 
died  April  14,  1822.  His  ancestry  belonged 
to  the  English  Establishment,  but  this  son 
appears  to  have  accepted  Socinian  doctrines, 
and  thus  become  affiliated  all  his  life  with 
Unitarian  charges.  He  was  a  man  of  feeble 
constitution,  but  possessed  of  prodigious  ca- 


pabilities for  religious  work  of  a  literary  kind, 
to  which  by  education  and  natural  tastes  he 
was  admirably  adapted.  While  a  boy  he 
was  apprenticed  to  a  linen-draper  in  London  ; 
even  then  and  there  at  the  age  of  fourteen  he 
contributed  articles  of  real  merit  to  various 
periodicals,  and  by  the  proceeds  from  them 
assisted  in  the  support  of  his  sister  and  his 
mother.  Educated  at  Daventry  as  a  dissent- 
ing minister,  he  was  settled  successively  at 
Sowerby  in  Yorkshire,  at  London,  at  Sidbury 
Vale  in  Devonshire,  and  at  Bath.  While  at 
Sidbur)'  he  issued  a  volume  of  his  London 
sermons,  adding  to  each  discourse  a  "  suita- 
ble hymn  "  of  his  own  composition,  with  the 
suggestion  that  it  be  sung  after  the  exposition 
had  been  read  aloud  in  the  family.  Then 
followed  all  sorts  of  useful  and  devotional 
works,  including  a  Family  Bible,  edited  on 
an  original  plan.  His  lyric  'compositions 
number  over  one  hundred ;  of  these  the  ore 
now  before  us  is  singularly  felicitous  in  both 
thought  and  expression,  combining  in  the 
most  charming  poetical  form  the  sublimest 
conception  of  the  unsearchableness  of  God 
with  the  tenderest  emotion  of  love  towards 
him  and  faith  in  his  wisdom  and  power. 


249 


Long-suffering. 


L.  M. 


God  of  my  life,  to  thee  belong 
The  grateful  heart,  the  joyful  song; 
Touched  by  thy  love,  each  tunt  ful  chord 
Resounds  the  goodness  of  the  Lord. 

2  Vet  why,  dear  Lord,  this  tender  care? 
Why  doth  thy  hand  .so  kindly  rear 

A  useless  cnmberer  of  the  ground, 
On  which  so  little  fruit  is  found  ? 

3  Still  let  the  barren  fig-tree  stand 
Upheld  and  fostered  by  thy  hand  ; 
And  let  its  fruit  and  verdure  be 

A  grateful  tribute.  Lord,  to  thee. 

In  the  library  of  Yale  College  there  are  to 
be  found,  among  others,  four  old  manu- 
scripts, which  contain  the  original  hymns  of 
Miss  Elizabeth  Scott,  the  author  of  the  piece 
now  before  us.  She  was  the  daughter  of  the 
Rev.  Thomas  Scott,  an  independent  min- 
ister at  Norwich,  England,  in  which  town  she 
was  born,  about  the  year  1708.  In  1751  she 
married  Col.  Elisha  Williams,  who  was  Pres- 
ident of  Yale  College,  and  after  his  death  she 
became  the  wife  of  the  Hon.  William  Smith, 
of  New  York.  She  died  at  Wethersfield, 
Connecticut,  June  13,  1776.  A  better  knowl- 
edge of  this  writer's  life  and  character  is  to 
be  obtained  from  her  epitaph  than  from  the 
writings  of  contemporaneous  biographers.  *^or 
it  says  of  her  that  she  was  "  a  lady  of  great 
reading  and  knowledge,  extensive  acquaint- 
ance, a  penetrating  mind,  and  good  judg- 


ATTRIBUTES. 


113 


ment ;  of  abounding  charity,  and  unaffected 
piety  and  devotion,  adorned  with  every  rec- 
ommending excellency.  Few^  lived  more 
esteemed  and  loved  or  died  more  lamented." 
This  hymn  was  first  published  in  Ash  and 
Evan's  Collectioti  of  Hymns,  1 769,  and  was 
entitled  "  On  Recovery  from  Sickness."  But 
few  of  Miss  Scott's  lyrics  are  in  common  use 
now,  although  she  wrote  more  than  a  hun- 
dred. 

250  Mystery.  L.  M. 

Wait,  O  my  soul !  thy  Maker's  will  ; 
Tumultuous  passions,  all  be  still  ! 
Nor  let  a  murmuring  thought  arise  ; 
His  ways  are  just,  his  counsels  wise. 

2  He  in  the  thickest  darkness  dwells, 
Performs  his  work,  the  cause  conceals ; 
But,  though  his  methods  are  unknown. 
Judgment  and  truth  support  his  throne. 

3  In  heaven,  and  earth,  and  air,  and  seas. 
He  executes  his  firm  decrees  ; 

And  by  his  saints  it  stands  confessed 
That  what  he  does  is  ever  best. 

4  Wait,  then,  my  soul !  submissive  wait, 
Prostrate  before  his  awful  seat ; 

And,  'mid  the  terrors  of  his  rod. 
Trust  in  a  wise  and  gracious  God. 

This  is  another  of  the  hymns  of  Rev.  Ben-^ 
jamin  Beddome,  taken  from  his  Hymns 
Adapted  to  Public  Worship  or  Family  De- 
votion, 1818.  It  will  find  an  illustration  in 
the  poetical  simile  of  Jean  Paul  Richter : 
"  The  earth  is  every  day  overspread  with  the 
vail  of  night,  for  the  same  reason  that  the 
cages  of  birds  are  darkened  ;  so  that  we  may 
more  readily  apprehend  the  higher  harmonies 
of  thought  in  the  hush  and  stillness  of  dark- 


251 


Omniscience. — Psa.  139. 


L.  M. 


Lord  !  thou  hast  searched  and  seen  me  through  ; 
Thine  eye  commands,  with  piercing  view. 
My  rising  and  my  resting  hours. 
My  heart  and  flesh,  with  all  their  powers. 

2  My  thoughts,  before  they  are  my  own, 
Are  to  my  God  distinctly  known  ; 

He  knows  the  words  I  mean  to  speak 
Ere  from  my  opening  lips  they  break. 

3  Within  thy  circling  power  I  stand  ; 
On  every  side  I  find  thy  hand  ; 
Awake,  asleep,  at  home,  abroad, 

I  am  surrounded  still  with  God. 

4  Amazing  knowledge,  vast  and  great ! 
What  large  extent  I  what  lofty  height ! 
My  soul,  with  all  the  powers  I  boast, 
Is  in  the  boundless  prospect  lost. 

5  Oh,  may  these  thoughts  possess  my  breast, 
Where'er  I  rove,  where'er  I  rest ; 

Nor  let  my  weaker  passions  dare 
Consent  to  sin,  for  God  is  there. 

Dr.  Isaac  Watts  has  given  this  as  his  ver- 
sion of  Psalm  139,  L.  M.,  First  Part.  As  a 
whole  it  has  thirteen  stanzas,  out  of  which 


these  five  are  usually  chosen  to  be  sung. 
The  point  of  admonition  in  this  inspired 
poem  is  well  enforced  by  the  last  stanza  of 
our  version.  God  sees  every  sin ;  therefore 
let  not  men  dare  to  consent  to  sin.  I  hon- 
estly and  sorrowfully  believe  there  is  no  per- 
son in  any  intelligent  community,  informed 
enough  to  understand  how  searchingly  the 
law  of  God  lays  hold  upon  motives  and  pur- 
poses, and  all  the  hidden  movements  of  the 
mind,  who  cannot  even  now  recall  the  day 
and  the  hour  when  his  will  crossed  God's 
will  in  an  actual  experience  of  speech  or  of 
deed,  and  he  determined  to  have  his  own 
way — did  have  it — and  knows  now,  this  very 
mom.ent,  that  in  that  decision  and  behavior 
he  deliberately  sinned  against  the  God  of 
heaven.  To  many  of  us  there  are  faces  on 
earth,  living  somewhere,  near  or  distant, 
which  we  desire  never  to  behold  again ;  faces, 
for  example,  which  seen  in  our  business 
haunts  or  social  circles,  and  likely  to  claim 
old  acquaintance  with  us,  would  mantle  our 
cheeks  with  shame.  There  are  tongues 
which  could  speak  in  some  ears  only  a  few 
words  of  recollection  and  recall  that  we 
would  give  the  world  rather  than  have  whis- 
pered in  the  presence  of  those  friends  who 
respect  us  and  trust  us  to-day.  Do  you  sup- 
pose King  David  was  the  only  man  that  ever 
lived  who  could  pray,  or  has  prayed,  in  an 
abashed  wonder  at  his  own  disclosed  history : 
"  Remember  not  the  sins  of  my  youth,  nor 
my  transgressions :  according  to  thy  mercy 
remember  thou  me,  for  thy  goodness'  sake, 
O  Lord  "  } 

252  Faithfulness.  L.  M. 

Oh,  for  a  strong,  a  lasting  faith 
To  credit  what  the  Almighty  saith  ! 
To  embrace  the  message  of  his  Son  ! 
And  call  the  joys  of  heaven  our  own  ! 

2  Then  should  the  earth's  old  pillars  shake. 
And  all  the  wheels  of  nature  break, 
Our  steady  souls  should  fear  no  more 
Than  solid  rocks  when  billows  roar. 

This  brief  little  hymn  is  taken  from  Dr. 
Isaac  Watts'  Book  II,,  where  it  is  No.  60.  It 
consists  of  eight  somewhat  "  ruinable  "  stan- 
zas, commencing  with  the  line,  "  Praise,  ever- 
lasting praise,  be  paid ;"  these  which  are 
chosen  here  are  the  sixth  and  seventh,  and 
the  best.  The  title  affixed  to  the  whole  is : 
"  The  Truth  of  God  the  Promiser ;  or,  The 
Promises  are  our  Security." 

When  the  great  traveler.  Baron  Humboldt, 
was  journeying  in  South  America,  there  came 
one  day  a  sudden  stillness  in  the  air  which 
seemed  like  a  hush  over  all  nature.  But  this 
was  followed  by  a  fearful  convulsion  of  the 

S 


114 


GOD: — THE    FATHER. 


earth  which  made  all  hearts  quake;  and 
Humboldt  tells  us  that  the  earthquake  within 
his  soul  was  as  great  as  that  in  the  world 
without.  All  his  old  views  of  the  safety  of 
the  earth  were  destroyed  in  a  moment. 
Should  he  fly  to  the  hills  for  safety.?  The 
mountains  were  reeling  like  drunken  men,  the 
houses  were  no  refuge,  for  they  were  crum- 
bling and  falling,  and  the  trees  were  over- 
thrown. Then  his  thoughts  turned  to  the 
sea;  but,  lo !  it  had  fled.  Ships  which  just 
before  were  floating  securely  on  its  surface 
were  now  left  rocking  in  the  sands.  Thus,  at 
his  wit's  end,  he  tells  us  he  "  looked  up,  and 
obser\'ed  that  the  heavens  were  calm  and 
unshaken." 

How  grateful  to  the  fearful  and  trembling 
heart  is  it  to  know  that,  "  though  the  moun- 
tains be  removed  and  carried  into  the  midst 
of  the  sea,"  there  are  some  things  which  can- 
not be  moved  !  These  are  some  of  the  things 
which  cannot  be  shaken  :  "  Even  from  ever- 
lasting to  everlasting  thou  art  God."  "  Thy 
kingdom  is  an  everlasting  kingdom."  "  The 
mercy  of  the  Lord  is  from  everlasting  to 
everlasting." 

253  Unsearchableness.  L.  M. 

What  finite  power,  with  ceaseless  toil, 

Can  fathom  the  eternal  Mind  ? 
Or  who  the  almighty  Three  in  One, 

By  searching,  to  perfection  find  ? 

2  Angels  and  men  in  vain  may  raise 
Harmonious  their  adoring  songs  ; 

The  laboring  thought  sinks  down  opprest, 
And  praises  die  upon  their  tongues. 

3  Yet  would  I  lift  my  trembling  voice 
A  portion  of  his  ways  to  sing ; 

And  mingling  with  his  meanest  works. 
My  humble,  grateful  tribute  bring. 

Miss  Elizabeth  Scott  was  the  author  of  this 
hymn ;  possibly  she  is  better  known  by  this, 
her  maiden  name,  than  by  her  proper  title  as 
the  wife  of  Colonel  Elisha  Williams,  whom 
she  afterward  married.  It  is  founded  upon 
Job  11:7:"  Canst  thou  by  searching  find  out 
God  ?  canst  thou  find  out  the  Almighty  unto 
perfection  ?"  The  illustrious  naturalist,  Agas- 
siz,  having  completed  his  arrangements  for 
opening  the  school  of  natural  history  at  Peni- 
kese  Island,  in  Narragansett  Bay,  gathered 
his  pupils  around  him  in  the  building  dedi- 
cated to  science  and  spoke  to  them  of  the 
great  purpose  which  called  them  together. 
He  reminded  them  that  they  were  about  to 
commence  investigations  into  the  secrets  of 
nature;  that  the  great  plan  and  purpose  of 
an  Infinite  Mind,  as  illustrated  in  the  struc- 
ture and  habits  of  marine  organisms,  was 
about  to  be  unfolded :  and  hence,  he  re- 
marked, it  is  becoming  and  appropriate  that 


we  first  of  all  bow  in  the  presence  of  the  In- 
finite One,  and  thus  recognize  his  sovereignty, 
superlative  wisdom,  and  beneficence.  The 
great  man  then  uncovered,  and  in  the  pres- 
ence of  all  bowed  his  head  and  stood  motion- 
less and  silent  for  the  space  of  three  minutes. 
It  was  a  solemn  scene,  and  made  a  profound 
impression  upon  all  present.  In  no  other  in- 
stance was  the  philosopher  known  to  engage 
in  any  outward  act  of  devotion  in  public. 


254 


In  Nature. — Psa.  19. 


L.  M.  D. 


The  spacious  firmament  on  high, 
With  all  the  blue  ethereal  sky. 
And  spangled  heavens,  a  shining  frame, 
Their  great  Original  proclaim  ; 
The  unwearied  sun,  from  day  to  day, 
Does  his  Creator's  power  display. 
And  publishes  to  every  land 
The  work  of  an  almighty  hand. 

2  Soon  as  the  evening  shades  prevail 
The  moon  takes  up  the  wondrous  tale  ; 
And  nightly,  to  the  listening  earth, 
Repeats  the  story  of  her  birth  ; 

While  all  the  stars  that  round  her  bum. 
And  all  the  planets  in  their  turn, 
Confirm  the  tidings  as  they  roll, 
And  spread  the  truth  from  pole  to  pole. 

3  What  though  in  solemn  silence,  all 
Move  round  the  dark  terrestrial  ball — 
What  though  no  real  voice  nor  sound 
Amid  their  radiant  orbs  be  found — 

In  reason's  ear  they  all  rejoice, 
And  utter  forth  a  glorious  voice, 
For  ever  singing  as  they  shine — 
"  The  hand  that  ma<ie  us  is  divine." 


JOSF.PH    ADDISON. 

The  name  of  Joseph  Addison  belongs 
rather  to  the  realm  of  literature  than  to  that 
of  hymnology.  He  was  born  at  Milston,  in 
Wiltshire,  England,  May  i,  1672.  His  father 
was  Rev.  Launcelot  Addison,  subsequently 
the  Dean  of  Lichfield.  His  mother  was  the 
sister  of  the  Bishop  of  Bristol,  William  Gul- 
ston.     So  the  lad  grew  up  with  no  love  for 


ATTRIBUTES. 


115 


the  Puritans,  but  with  a  bigoted  attachment 
to  Episcopacy  and  the  aristocracy  with  which 
it  was  associated.  Educated  at  Oxford, 
he  was  at  once  placed  in  the  front  rank  of 
writers  in  English  prose.  He  was  married 
to  Charlotte,  the  Countess  of  Warwick,  and 
after  holding  minor  offices  under  the  govern- 
ment, he  was  at  last  advanced  to  the  position 
of  Assistant  Secretary  of  State.  In  connec- 
tion with  Sir  Richard  Steele  he  established 
the  Spectator ;  his  essays  in  this  periodical 
even  down  to  our  own  day  are  reckoned 
among  the  finest  productions  in  the  language. 
His  health  was  not  robust ;  he  was  afflicted 
with  asthma  and  with  dropsy.  He  died 
June  17,  1 7 19,  at  the  age  of  49,  at  Holland 
House.  His  body  lay  in  state  in  the  Jerusa- 
lem Chamber  of  Westminster  Abbey.  The 
poet  Young  says  that  in  his  dying  moments 
he  sent  for  the  Earl  of  Warwick,  and  said  to 
him,  "  See  in  what  peace  a  Christian  can 
die !" 

The  hymn  now  before  us  is  his  version  of 
Psalm  19;  it  was  published  in  the  Spectator, 
No.  465,  August  23,  1712.  He  wrote  only 
five  hymns,  but  these  have  all  been  preserved, 
and  are  in  many  hymnals  yet. 

255  I^  '^^  Seasons.  L.  M.  D. 

Eternal  Source  of  every  joy. 
Well  may  thy  praise  our  lips  employ, 
While  in  thy  temple  we  appear, 
To  hail  thee,  sovereign  of  the  year  I 
Wide  as  the  wheels  of  nature  roll, 
Thy  hand  supports  and  guides  the  whole. 
The  sun  is  taught  by  thee  to  rise, 
And  darkness  when  to  vail  the  skies. 

2  The  flowery  spring  at  thy  command 
Perfumes  the  air,  adorns  the  land  ; 
The  summer  rays  with  vigor  shine, 
To  raise  the  corn,  to  cheer  the  vine. 
Thy  hand,  in  autumn,  richly  pours 
Through  all  our  coasts  redundant  stores  : 
And  winters,  softened  by  thy  care, 

No  more  the  face  of  horror  wear. 

3  Seasons  and  months,  and  weeks  and  days. 
Demand  successive  songs  of  praise  ; 

And  be  the  grateful  homage  paid, 
With  morning  light  and  evening  shade. 
Here  in  thy  house  let  incense  rise. 
And  circling  Sabbaths  bless  our  eyes. 
Till  to  those  lofty  heights  we  soar 
Where  days  and  years  revolve  no  more. 

This  is  taken  from  Dr.  Philip  Doddridge's 
Hymns  Founded  on  Various  Texts  in  the 
Holy  Scriptures,  1755.  It  is  entitled:  "For 
New  Year's  Day.  The  Year  Crowned  with 
the  Divine  Goodness:  Psalm  65:11."  It  is 
not  wise  to  think  lightly  of  the  teachings 
which  we  receive  from  the  mute  world 
around  us,  and  insist  that  they  are  addressed 
more  to  the  poetic  sentiment  than  to  the 
reasonable  understanding.  For  it  is  of  no 
consequence  that  this  should  be  contradicted. 


It  is  the  conscience  of  each  human  being 
which  is  to  be  finally  reached  in  order  that 
his  stubborn  will  should  be  moved ;  and  it 
mattery  nothing  through  what  avenue  the 
moral  instruction  arrives.  Most  of  us  remern- 
ber  that,  when  Diabolus  besieged  Mansoul  in 
the  Holy  War,  he  tried  Eye-gate  as  well  as 
Ear-gate  in  his  approaches;  and  Immanuel 
recaptured  it  in  a  similar  way.  Nature  comes 
before  our  open  eyes,  Revelation  before  our 
open  ears ;  but  both  are  seeking  the  heart. 
Hence,  some  of  our  finest  conceptions  of 
spiritual  truth  come  from  our  every-day  dis- 
closures of  material  order  and  beauty.  "  Fa- 
ther," said  a  small  Swedish  child  once,  who 
had  been  gazing  at  the  stars,  "  I  have  been 
thinking  that,  if  the  wrong  side  of  heaven  is 
so  very  beautiful,  what  must  the  right  side 
be !" 

256  Omnipresence.  L.  M. 

Lord  of  all  being,  throned  afar, 
Thy  glory  flames  from  sun  and  star  ; 
Center  and  soul  of  every  sphere, 
Yet  to  each  loving  heart  how  near ! 

2  Sun  of  our  life,  thy  quickening  ray 
Sheds  on  our  path  the  glow  of  day  ; 
Star  of  our  hope,  thy  softened  li^ht 
Cheers  the  long  watches  of  the  night. 

3  Our  midnight  is  thy  smile  withdrawn  ; 
Our  noontide  is  thy  gracious  dawn  ; 
Our  rainbow  arch  thy  mercy's  sign  : 
All,  save  the  clouds  of  sin,  are  thine  ! 

4  Lord  of  all  life,  below,  above. 

Whose  light  is  truthj  whose  warmth  is  love, 
Before  thy  ever-blazmg  throne 
We  ask  no  luster  of  our  own. 

5  Grant  us  thy  truth  to  make  us  free. 
And  kindling  hearts  that  bum  for  thee, 
Till  all  thy  living  altars  claim 

One  holy  light,  one  heavenly  flame  ! 

Dr.  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  has  enriched 
the  hymnody  of  the  churches  with  a  few  of  its 
very  finest  hymns.  He  calls  this  one  by  a 
name  singularly  appropriate,  and  just  as  sin- 
gularly characteristic  —  "A  Sun-day  Hymn." 
It  was  written  in  1848,  and  was  used  in  the 
Atlantic  Monthly  to  close  the  last  chapter  of 
The  Professor  at  the  Breakfast  Table  in  De- 
cember, 1859.  The  final  words  are  these: 
"And  so  my  year's  record  is  finished.  Thanks 
to  all  those  friends  who  from  time  to  time 
have  sent  their  messages  of  kindly  recognition 
and  fellow-feeling.  Peace  to  all  such  as  may 
have  been  vexed  in  spirit  by  any  utterance  the 
pages  have  repeated.  They  will  doubtless 
forget  for  the  moment  the  difference  in  the 
hues  of  truth  we  look  at  through  our  human 
prisms,  and  join  in  singing  (inwardly)  this 
hymn  to  the  Source  of  the  light  we  all  need 
to  lead  us,  and  the  warmth  which  alone  can 
make  us  all  brothers." 


ii6 


GOD  : — THE    FATHER. 


OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES. 


From  an  aged  scrap-book  which  has  some- 
how crept  along  with  me  over  the  corduroy 
road  of  my  life  thus  far  I  now  extract  a  news- 
paper clipping  worth  quoting  for  my  present 
need  :  "  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  was  born  in 
Cambridge,  Mass.,  August  29,  1809,  and  of 
course  is  now  forty-two  years  old.  He  grad- 
uated at  Harvard  University  in  1829,  and 
shortly  after  commenced  the  study  of  law; 
but  getting  tired  of  that  for  some  reason,  he 
gave  it  up,  and  with  characteristic  diligence 
applied  himself  to  the  study  of  medicine,  and 
with  such  success  that  he  was  selected  as 
teacher  of  anatomy  and  physiology  in  the 
medical  department  of  Dartmouth  College,  a 
position  which  he  honorably  and  satisfacto- 
rily sustained  for  about  one  year.  He  has 
more  recently  held  the  professorship  of  these 
sciences  in  Harvard  University.  He  does 
not  worry  himself  with  the  fatigues  of  regu- 
lar practice,  but  in  the  summer  quietly  pur- 
sues the  occupation  of  a  farmer  up  in  Berk- 
shire County,  in  this  State  (Mass.),  cultivating 
potatoes  with  his  hoe,  and  poetry  with  his 
head ;  feeding  pigs  with  the  productions  of 
his  farm,  and  the  public  with  the  productions 
of  his  pen  ;  in  short,  he  so  mixes  up  his  occu- 
pations, says  a  witty  knight  of  the  quill,  that 
'  it  is  a  wonder  to  his  neighbors  how  he  man- 


ages to  know  his  head  from  a  hill  of  beans  !' 
In  person  Dr.  Holmes  is  of  a  petite  size,  short, 
slim,  but  is  quick  and  active  in  his  motions 
and  lively  and  entertaining  in  his  conversa- 
tion." 

This  slip  contains  only  two  mistakes,  and 
these  I  have  carefully  corrected,  being  now 
more  than  forty  years  older  than  I  must  have 
been  when  I  pasted  it  in,  and  knowing  better 
the  value  of  accuracy  in  public  print  than  I 
once  did.  And  from  the  same  scrap-book  I 
bring  out  another ;  I  do  not  know  who  wrote 
either  of  them :  "  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes 
reached  the  age  of  eighty  years  on  Thursday, 
August  29.  He  is  a  few  days  younger  than 
Tennyson,  England's  poet  laureate,  who  at- 
tained the  age  of  eighty  August  6.  Dr. 
Holmes  as  poet,  essayist,  novelist,  has  won  a 
name  in  literature  that  will  not  be  forgotten. 
He  gained  it  not  by  bribery,  intrigue,  or  im- 
pudent pushing,  but  by  patient  industry  and 
spotless  integrity.  He  is  honored  throughout 
the  whole  country.  He  has  done  much  to  give 
our  country  a  literary  reputation  abroad.  He 
owes  nothing  of  his  reputation  to  wealth  or 
political  honors.  He  is  a  private  citizen,  seek- 
ing no  notoriety,  but  he  is  esteemed  and  be- 
loved for  his  genial  disposition,  hearty  sym- 
pathy for  what  is  beautiful,  true,  and  good, 
and  his  love  of  humanity.  He  received  con- 
gratulations on  his  birthday  from  his  sur\-i- 
ving  Harvard  classmates  and  from  many  who 
are  eminent  in  literature.  His  contemporary 
poet,  Whittier,  two  years  his  senior,  greeted 
him  thus : 

"  '  Climbing  the  path  that  leads  back  nevermore, 
We  heard  behind  his  footstep  and  his  cheer ; 
Now,  face  to  face,  we  greet  him,  standing  here 

Upon  the  lovely  summit  of  Fourscore. 

Welcome  to  us,  o'er  whom  the  lengthened  day 
Is  closing,  and  the  shadows  deeper  grow, 
His  genial  presence,  like  an  afterglow 

Following  the  one  just  vanishing  away. 

Long  be  it  ere  the  Table  shall  be  set 
For  the  last  Breakfast  of  the  Autocrat, 
And  Love  repeat,  with  smiles  and  tears  thereat, 

His  own  sweet  songs,  that  time  shall  not  forget : 

Waiting  with  him  the  call  to  come  up  higher, 

Life  is  not  less,  the  heavens  are  only  nigher  I'  " 

There  is  a  third  clipping  that  looks  rather 
fresh  on  the  whole ;  and  it  says  for  itself  that 
it  came  from  the  Chicago  Mail.  Like  the 
other  two  it  omits  the  somewhat  interesting 
fact  that  this  great,  good,  little  man  is  the  son 
of  a  Congregational  clergyman  settled  in  the 
first  parish  of  Cambridge,  where  he  was  born. 
It  dates,  however,  twelve  months  further 
along,  and  gives  some  more  particulars  of  the 
poet's  way  of  living,  which  may  be  of  use  to 
growing  people  in  times  yet  to  come.  "Oliver 
Wendell  Holmes  thinks  that  he  owes  his  good 
health  and  the  retention  of  his  mental  vigor,  in 


ATTRIBUTES. 


117 


his  eighty-first  year,  to  the  extreme  care  he 
has  long  taken  of  himself.  Never  robust,  he 
was  still  wiry  in  his  earlier  and  maturer  life  ; 
but  since  he  reached  eighty  his  hygienic  vig- 
ilance is  unceasing.  The  rooms  that  he  daily 
occupies  are  equipped  with  barometers,  ther- 
mometers, aerometers,  all  kinds  of  instru- 
ments, in  short,  to  prevent  his  incurring  the 
slightest  risk  of  taking  cold.  He  knows  that 
pneumonia  is  the  most  formidable  foe  of  old 
age,  and  he  is  determined  to  keep  it  at  a  dis- 
tance, if  possible.  He  never  gets  up  until  he 
knows  the  exact  temperature,  during  winter, 
or  takes  his  bath  without  having  the  water 
accurately  tested.  He  lives  by  rule,  and  the 
rule  is  inflexible.  His  time  is  scrupulously 
divided — so  much  allotted  to  reading,  so  much 
to  writing,  so  much  to  exercise,  so  much  to 
recreation.  His  meals  are  studies  of  prudence 
and  digestion.  He  understands  the  specific 
qualities  of  all  ordinary  foods,  and  never  de- 
parts from  the  severest  discretion  in  eating. 
One  might  think  that  it  would  be  a  serious  in- 
fliction to  keep  up  existence  by  such  precise, 
unvarying  methods.  But  the  little  doctor  en- 
joys them,  having  settled  firmly  in  these  habits 
years  ago.  Philosophic  as  he  is  about  death, 
he  has  an  eager  curiosity  to  see  how  long  he 
can  live  by  following  the  laws  he  has  vigor- 
ously prescribed  for  himself.  He  has  long 
had  various  theories  on  the  subject  of  health 
and  longevity,  and  he  relishes  experimenting 
upon  himself.  He  thinks  sometimes  that  he 
may  attain  one  hundred,  which  he  would 
dearly  like,  if  he  could  retain,  as  he  has  re- 
tained thus  far,  the  full  possession  of  all  his 
faculties." 


were  likely  to  follow  the  constant  straining 
after  information  concerning  the  purposes  and 
plans  and  foreordinations  and  decrees  of  our 
Maker,  and  this  was  his  very  wise  conclusion 
for  himself  and  his  recommendation  to  others  : 
"  The  surest  method  of  arriving  at  a  knowl- 
edge of  God's  eternal  purposes  about  us  is  to 
be  found  in  the  right  use  of  the  present  mo- 
ment. Each  hour  comes  with  some  little 
fagot  of  God's  will  fastened  upon  its  back." 


258 


Sovereignly, 


L.M. 


257  Providence.  L.  M. 

Lord,  how  mysterious  are  thy  ways  ! 
How  blind  are  we,  how  mean  our  praise  ! 
Thy  steps  no  mortal  eyes  explore  ; 
'T  is  ours  to  wonder  and  adore. 

2  Great  God  !  I  do  not  ask  to  see 
What  ill  futurity  shall  be  ; 
Let  light  and  bliss  attend  my  days, 
And  then  my  future  hours  be  praise. 

3  Are  darkness  and  distress  my  share? 
Give  me  to  trust  thy  guardian  care  ; 
Enough  for  me,  if  love  divine 
At  length  through  every  cloud  shall  shine.  259 

4  Yet  this  my  soul  desires  to  know, 
Be  this  my  only  wish  below  ; 
That  Christ  is  mine !— this  great  request, 
Grant,  bounteous  God,  and  I  am  blest ! 

This  is  one  of  the  best  of  Miss  Anne 
Steele's  hymns.  It  is  as  usual  from  Poems  by 
Theodosia,  1760.  It  suggests  a  single  re- 
mark once  made  by  Rev.  Frederick  W.  Faber, 
D.  D.,  when  preaching ;  he  was  commenting 
upon  the  petulance  and  dissatisfaction  which 


Lord,  my  weak  thought  in  vain  would  climb 
To  searcli  the  starry  vault  profound  ; 

In  vain  would  wing  her  flight  sublime 
To  find  creation's  outmost  bound. 

2  But  weaker  yet  that  thought  must  prove 
To  search  thy  great  eternal  plan — 

Thy  sovereign  counsels,  born  of  love 
Long  ages  ere  the  world  began. 

3  When  my  dim  reason  would  demand 
Why  that,  or  this,  thou  dost  ordain, 

By  some  vast  deep  I  seem  to  stand, 
Whose  secrets  I  must  ask  in  vain. 

4  When  doubts  disturb  my  troubled  breast, 
And  all  is  dark  as  night  to  me, 

Here,  as  on  solid  rock,  I  rest ; 
That  so  it  seemeth  good  to  thee. 

5  Be  this  my  joy,  that  evermore 
Thou  rulest  all  things  at  thy  will : 

Thy  sovereign  wisdom  I  adore, 
And  calmly,  sweetly,  trust  thee  still. 

This  hymn  of  Dr.  Ray  Palmer  is  based 
upon  Romans  11  :  33  :  "Oh,  the  depth  of  the 
riches  both  of  the  wisdom  and  knowledge  of 
God !  how  unsearchable  are  his  judgments, 
and  his  ways  past  finding  out !"  It  was  com- 
posed in  1850,  when  he  was  in  the  midst  of 
an  experience  of  great  personal  suffering  from 
ill  health,  which  rendered  him  a  helpless  in- 
valid for  a  season.  It  appeared  first  in  the 
Sabbath  Hymn  and  Tune  Book,  1858.  In  it 
the  writer's  trust  in  God's  sovereignty  isTaeau- 
tifuUy  expressed ;  but  he  admits  that  in  some 
phases  of  its  manifestation  he  finds  inscrutable 
mysteries.  One  becomes  wearied  with  the 
exercise  of  his  reason,  and  settles  down  only 
upon  an  unswerving  faith.  Here,  as  on  solid 
rock,  he  rests.  Such  a  hymn  is  worthy  of  the 
author  of  "  My  faith  looks  up  to  thee." 


Providence. 


C.  M.  D. 


While  thee  I  seek,  protecting  Power  ! 

Be  my  vain  wishes  stilled  ; 
And  mav  this  consecrated  hour 

With  better  hopes  be  filled  ; 
Thy  love  the  power  of  thought  bestowed  ; 

To  thee  my  thoughts  would  soar: 
Thy  mercy  o'er  my  life  has  flowed  ; 

That  mercy  I  adore. 

3  In  each  event  of  life  how  clear       ' 

Thy  ruling  hand  I  see  ! 
Each  blessing  to  my  soul  more  dear 

Because  conferred  by  thee. 


Ii8 


GOD  : — THE   FATHER. 


In  every  joy  that  crowns  my  days, 

111  every  pain  I  bear, 
My  heart  shall  find  delight  in  praise 

Or  seek  relief  in  prayer. 
3  When  gladness  wings  my  favored  hour, 

Thy  love  my  thoughts  shall  fill ; 
Resigned,  when  storms  of  sorrow  lower, 

My  soul  shall  meet  thy  will. 
My  lifted  eye,  without  a  tear, 

The  gathering  storm  shall  see  ; 
My  steadfast  heart  shall  know  no  fear  ; 

That  heart  will  rest  on  thee. 

Miss  Helen  Maria  Williams  was  born  in 
1762,  at  or  near  Berwick-on-Tweed,  in  the 
north  of  England ;  the  exact  locality  is  dis- 
puted, and  some  writers  continue  to  say  that 
she  first  saw  the  light  in  London.  At  an 
early  period  of  her  life  she  manifested  unusual 
literary  taste  and  gifts,  and  at  the  age  of 
twenty  entered  upon  a  career  of  authorship 
in  London,  instantly  taking  high  rank  as  a 
poetess,  1782.  Three  years  after  this  she 
removed  to  Paris,  where  thereafter  she  m.ade 
her  permanent  residence.  It  was  not  long 
before  she  became  interested  in  the  stirring 
events  of  that  period,  and  she  engaged  her- 
self in  writing  books  and  articles  of  a  semi- 
political  character.  She  was  regarded  as 
being  in  sympathy  with  the  cause  of  the  Gi- 
rondists ;  this  may  account  for  the  fact  that 
she  was  imprisoned  during  the  Reign  of 
Terror,  and  kept  in  bonds  until  the  death  of 
Robespierre  in  1794. 

She  is  known  in  this  country  only  by  one 
hymn  which  bears  her  name.  Through 
those  stormy  years  it  is  best  to  believe  she 
felt  the  need  of  the  "  protecting  Power " 
which  she  so  pathetically  invoked  in  these 
familiar  lines.  They  have  the  date  of  1786 
attached  to  them ;  it  is  early  among  the  dates 
of  disorder,  but  the  whole  hymn  has  a  pro- 
phetic instinct  that  shows  how  the  devotional 
trust  was  awakened  within  her  by  the  pain 
she  witnessed  and  afterwards  shared  when 
property  and  life  were  rendered  insecure. 
The  "  gathering  storm  "  was  coming ;  and  it 
is  on  record  that  she  was  a  deeply  pious  wo- 
man, and  meant  well  according  to  her  light. 
She  remained  in  Paris  after  the  days  of  strife 
were  passed,  attending  with  her  mother  the 
services  of  the  Protestant  church  where  such 
men  as  Monod  and  Paul  Rabaut  ministered. 
Little  can  be  learned  about  her  subsequent 
to  this;  she  died  December  14,  1827. 

260  Psalm  116.  C.  M. 

What  shall  I  render  to  my  God 

For  all  his  kindness  shown? 
My  feet  shall  visit  thine  abode, 

Mv  songs  address  thy  throne. 

2  Among  the  saints  that  fill  thine  house 

My  offering  shall  be  paid  ; 
There  shall  my  zeal  perform  the  vows 

My  soul  in  anguish  made. 


3  How  much  is  mercy  thy  delight. 
Thou  ever  blessed  God  ! 

How  dear  thy  servants  in  thy  sight ! 
How  precious  is  their  blood  ! 

4  How  happy  all  thy  servants  are  ! 
How  great  thy  grace  to  me  ! 

My  life,  which  thou  hast  made  thy  care. 
Lord,  I  devote  to  thee. 

We  have  here  another  of  Dr.  Isaac  Watts' 
cheery  and  bright  reminiscences  of  what  was 
doubtless  his  own  experience  in  many  an 
hour  of  grateful  acknowledgment,  after  he 
had  come  up  from  illness.  It  is  his  paraphrase 
of  Psalm  116,  Second  Part,  C.  M.  The  first 
part  has  six  ordinary  stanzas,  and  is  entitled, 
"  Recovery  from  Sickness."  This  has  an 
equal  number,  from  which  in  public  singing 
two  are  omitted,  and  is  entitled,  "  Vows  Made 
in  Trouble  Paid  in  the  Church ;  or.  Public 
Thanks  for  Private  Deliverance."  It  is  al- 
ways doubtful  how  much  of  one's  emotion 
on  such  occasions  can  fittingly  be  disclosed 
in  the  presence  of  others  who  may  not  know 
the  circumstances  thoroughly;  but  surely  a 
recognizable  profession  of  one's  gratitude  can 
never  be  wholly  out  of  taste.  A  strange 
discovery  to  the  most  of  us  it  is,  along  the 
line  of  these  studies,  that  so  many  of  the 
poets  of  the  Church  learned  their  songs  in 
the  hot  fires  of  pain  and  peril,  sometimes 
seeing  death  while  they  sang  of  the  land  the 
inhabitant  whereof  shall  never  say,  "  I  am 
sick." 

"  It  is  a  solemn  thing  to  die,"  said  Schiller; 
"but  it  is  a  more  solemn  thing  to  live."  We 
know  the  story  of  the  Scotch  mother  whose 
child  an  eagle  stole  away ;  half  maddened 
she  saw  the  bird  reach  its  eyrie  far  up  the 
cliff.  No  one  could  scale  the  rock.  In  dis- 
traction she  prayed  all  the  day.  An  old 
sailor  climbed  after  it,  and  crept  down  dizzily 
from  the  height.  There,  on  her  outstretched 
arms,  as  she  pleaded  with  closed  eyes,  he 
laid  her  rescued  babe.  She  rose  in  majesty 
of  self-denial  and  took  it  (as  she  had  been 
taught  in  that  land)  to  her  minister  that  it 
might  be  baptized.  She  would  not  kiss  it 
until  it  had  been  solemnly  dedicated  unto 
God! 

What  shall  a  man  do  with  a  life  given- 
back  to  him  ?  Now  it  returns  with  all  its 
vast  possibilities  for  good.  What  sort  of 
preacher  must  he  be  whose  career  has  been 
consecrated  to  two  pulpits  in  turn  ?  We 
make  our  honest  resolutions  and  plan  for  a 
new  and  vigorous  endeavor.  But  when  the 
healthful  heart  begins  its  beats  again  we  for- 
get the  discipline  and  refuse  the  vow.  "  I 
will  go  into  thy  house  with  burnt-offerings ;  I 
will  pay  thee  my  vows,  which  my  lips  have 


ATTRIBUTES. 


119 


Uttered,  and  my  mouth  hath  spoken,  when  I 
was  in  trouble.  Come  and  hear,  all  ye  that 
fear  God,  and  I  will  declare  what  he  hath 
done  for  my  soul." 

26  i  God's  Mercies.  C.  M.  D. 

The  mercies  of  my  God  and  King 

My  tongue  shall  still  pursue  : 
Oh,  happy  they,  who,  while  they  sing 

Those  mercies,  share  them  too  ! 
As  bright  and  lasting  as  the  sun, 

As  lofty  as  the  sky, 
From  age  to  age  thy  word  shall  run, 

And  chance  and  change  defy. 

2  The  covenant  of  the  King  of  kings 

Shall  stand  for  ever  sure  ; 
Beneath  the  shadow  of  thy  wings 

Thy  saints  repose  secure. 
In  earth  below,  in  heaven  above. 

Who,  who  is  Lord  like  thee  ? 
Oh,  spread  the  gospel  of  thy  love 

Till  all  thy  glories  see  1 

Rev.  Henry  Francis  Lyte  has  in  these  four 
simple  stanzas,  written  in  1834,  given  us  a 
proof  of  the  supreme  spiritual  intelligence  he 
had  reached  through  the  intense  disciplines 
in  the  midst  of  which  most  of  his  life  was 
passed.  His  faith  was  high  enough  in  its  ex- 
altation still  to  praise  God  for  his  "  mercies," 
for  he  "shared"  while  he  "sang"  them. 
There  is  no  such  thing  as  mercy  anywhere 
in  this  fallen  world  outside  of  revelation. 
Providence  would  be  a  series  of  fatalisms, 
only  it  is  God's  providence.  The  ocean 
never  shows  mercy ;  it  rolls  on  filled  with 
wrecks.  The  air  carries  pestilences  with  the 
same  celerity  with  which  it  brings  perfumes 
from  Araby  the  Blest.  Fire  burns  and  water 
suffocates  relentlessly.  "  Man's  inhumanity 
to  man  makes  countless  thousands  mourn." 
But  God  overhead  is  ever  "  mindful  of  his 
own." 

262  God  in  Nature.  C.  M.  D- 

There  is  a  book,  who  runs  may  read, 

Which  heavenly  truth  imparts. 
And  all  the  lore  its  scholars  need. 

Pure  eyes  and  Christian  hearts. 
The  works  of  God  above,  below. 

Within  us  and  around. 
Are  pages  in  that  book,  to  show 

How  God  himself  is  found. 

2  The  glorious  sky,  embracing  all, 
Is  like  the  Maker's  love. 

Wherewith  encompassed,  great  and  small 

In  peace  and  order  move. 
The  Moon  above,  the  Church  below, 

A  wondrous  race  they  run. 
But  all  their  radiance,  all  their  glow. 

Each  borrows  of  its  Sun. 

3  Two  worlds  are  ours  :  't  is  only  sin 
Forbids  us  to  descry 

The  mystic  heaven  and  earth  within. 

Plain  as  the  sea  and  sky. 
Thou,  who  hast  §iven  me  eyes  to  see 

And  love  this  sight  so  fair. 
Give  me  a  heart  to  find  out  thee, 

And  read  thee  everywhere. 

Another  of  Rev.  John  Keble's  hymns,  and 


like  all  the  rest  taken  from  the  pages  of  the 
Christian  Year.  It  is  in  commenting  upon 
these  verses  that  the  Rev.  S.  W.  Christophers 
says :  "  The  noblest  minds,  the  greatest 
hearts,  the  most  Christlike  characters  are 
those  who,  with  the  deepest  spiritual  inter- 
course with  the  heavenly  and  the  unseen,  have 
the  most  tender,  gentle,  childlike  attachment 
to  everything  that  God  smiles  upon  in  visible 
life.  Now  I  am  disposed  to  class  the  author 
of  the  Christian  Year  with  these ;  he  i.s  not 
always  equal.  In  a  few  instances  his  verses 
lack  vigor,  are  simply  pretty;  but  when  he 
hymns  it  in  his  best  style  he  gives  us  a  sweet 
relish  for  that  devotion  which  seems  at  once 
to  hush  and  exalt  the  soul  amidst  the  analo- 
gies of  creation.  How  beautifully  he  inter- 
weaves nature  and  grace,  the  visible  and  the 
invisible,  in  his  hymn  for  Septuagesima  Sun- 
day !"  Then  he  goes  on  to  repeat  with  en- 
thusiasm all  the  fifteen  stanzas  of  the  poem  ; 
and  at  the  close  of  the  rehearsal  one  of  his 
hearers — one  of  his  most  earnest  young  men, 
whose  full  round  bass  voice  he  had  often  ad- 
mired when  coming  into  the  chorus  swell  of 
a  jubilant  psalm  or  anthem — bursts  out  with, 
"  Thank  you  !  John  Keble  often  succeeds,  as 
he  does  in  this  case,  in  making  us  feel  what 
he  calls  '  that  soothing  tendency  in  the  prayer- 
book,'  and  which,  as  he  adds,  '  it  is  the  chief 
purpose  of '  his  hymns  '  to  exhibit.'  " 

263  Mystery.  C.  M.  D. 

Thy  way,  O  Lord,  is  in  the  sea  ; 

Thy  paths  I  cannot  trace. 
Nor  comprehend  the  mystery 

Of  thine  unbounded  grace. 
As  through  a  glass,  I  dimly  see 

The  wonders  of  thy  love  ; 
How  little  do  I  know  of  thee, 

Or  of the  joys  above ! 

2  'T  is  but  in  part  I  know  thy  will ; 
I  bless  thee  for  the  sight  : 

When  will  thy  love  the  rest  reveal, 
In  glory's  clearer  light  ? 

With  rapture  shall  I  then  survey 
Thy  providence  and  grace  ; 

And  spend  an  everlasting  din- 
In  wonder,  love,  and  praise. 

This  is  found  in  Hymns  Adapted  to  the 
Circumstances  of  Public  Worship  and  Pri- 
vate Derwtion,  issued  by  Rev.  John  Fawcett 
in  1782.  It  has  had  a  varied  history,  so  far 
as  alteration  is  concerned,  but  four  of  the 
stanzas  remain  very  closely  as  they  were 
written,  and  are  kept  without  change  m  most 
of  the  modern  hymnals.  The  author  began 
with  a  text  from  the  Old  Testament,  and  fin- 
ished his  piece  under  the  light  of  another 
from  the  New.  The  first  is  this,  found  in 
Psalm  77  :  19  :  "  Thy  way  is  in  the  sea,  and 
thy  path  in  the  great  waters,  and  thy  foot- 
steps are  not  known."    The  next  is  taken 


I20 


GOD  : — THE   FATHER. 


from  I  Corinthians  13:9.  The  poet  evidently 
had  in  his  mind  the  familiar  words  about 
seeing  "  through  a  glass  darkly,"  which  our 
new  Revision  does  not  better  much  by  chang- 
ing into  a  strange  expression,  "  in  a  mirror 
darkly."  It  is  likely  in  most  cases  that  the 
best  poor  mortals  can  do  is  to  own  up  their 
ignorance  tranquilly,  and  then  wait  for  clearer 
vision.  With  the  endless  ages  of  that  fresh 
celestial  life,  of  which  God's  Word  speaks, 
open  before  us  for  our  study  and  for  divine 
explanation,  we  ought  to  be  willing  to  remain 
unfrctted  now.  Arnold  says  well :  "  Before 
a  confessed  and  unconquerable  difficulty  the 
mind,  if  in  a  healthy  state,  reposes  as  quietly 
as  when  in  the  possession  of  a  discovered 
truth ;  as  quietly  and  contentedly  as  we  are 
accustomed  to  bear  that  law  of  our  nature 
which  denies  us  the  power  of  seeing  through 
all  space,  or  of  being  exempt  from  sickness 
or  decay."  We  can  afford  to  wait  till  all 
these  earthly  shadows  find  their  substance  in 
the  eternal  realities  of  God.  "  For  now  we 
see  through  a  glass,  darkly ;  but  then  face  to 
face ;  now  I  know  in  part ;  but  then  shall  I 
know  even  as  also  I  am  known." 

264  Continued  help.  C.  M. 

When  all  thy  mercies,  O  my  God  ! 

My  rising  soul  surveys, 
Transported  with  the  view,  I  'm  lost 

In  wonder,  love,  and  praise. 

2  Unnumbered  comforts,  to  my  soul, 
Thy  tender  care  bestowed, 

Before  my  infant  heart  conceived 
From  whom  those  comforts  flowed. 

3  When,  in  the  slippery  paths  of  youth. 
With  heedless  steps  I  ran. 

Thine  arm,  unseen,  conveyed  me  safe, 
And  led  me  uj)  to  man. 

4  Ten  thousand  thousand  precious  gifts 
My  dally  thanks  employ ; 

Nor  is  the  least  a  cheerful  lieart. 
That  tastes  those  gifts  with  joy. 

5  Through  every  period  of  my  life 
Thy  goodness  I  Ml  pursue  ; 

And  after  death,  in  cfistant  worlds, 
The  glorious  theme  renew. 

6  Through  all  eternity  to  thee 
A  joyful  song  I  '11  raise  : 

For,  oh,  etertiity  's  too  short 
To  utter  all  thy  praise  ! 

Joseph  Addison's  literary  fame  will  live  the 
longest  in  connection  with  the  contributions 
he  made  to  the  Tattler  and  the  Spectator.  It 
was  in  the  latter,  No.  453,  August,  1712,  that 
this  hymn  appeared.  The  essay  with  which 
it  is  given  offers  some  very  fitting  obser\a- 
tions,  which  might  very  appropriately  be  held 
in  mind  as  we  sing  it :  "If  gratitude  is  due 
from  man  to  man,  how  much  more  from  man 
to  his  Maker !  The  Supreme  Being  does  not 
only  confer  upon  us  those  bounties  which 


proceed  more  immediately  from  his  hand,  but 
even  those  benefits  which  are  conveyed  to  us 
by  others.  Any  blessing  we  enjoy,  by  what 
means  soever  derived,  is  the  gift  of  him  who 
is  the  great  Author  of  good,  and  the  Father 
of  mercies." 

265 


C.  M. 


Love. 

Come,  ye  that  know  and  fear  the  Lord, 
And  raise  your  thoughts  above  : 

Let  every  heart  and  voice  accord 
To  sing  that  "  God  is  love." 

3  This  precious  truth  his  word  declares, 

And  all  his  mercies  prove  ; 
Jesus,  the  gift  of  gifts,  appears. 

To  show  that  "  God  is  love." 

3  Behold  his  patience,  bearing  long 
With  those  who  from  him  rove  ; 

Till  mighty  grace  their  hearts  subdues, 
To  teach  them — "  God  is  love." 

4  Oh,  may  we  all,  while  here  below. 
This  best  of  blessings  prove  ; 

Till  warmer  hearts,  in  brighter  worlds. 
Proclaim  that  "  God  is  love." 


Rev.  George  Burder  is  the  author  of  this 
bright  hymn.  It  is  one  of  the  three  which  he 
composed  for  his  Collection  after  his  settle- 
ment at  Coventry,  and  was  published  in  1 784. 
It  there  consists  of  nine  verses,  from  which 
the  ordinary  selections  are  made  according  to 
taste.  A  real  Christian  sees  almost  instinc- 
tively the  wonderful  directness  of  a  song  of 
praise  like  this,  and  admires  its  simple  reitera- 
tion of  that  one  sentence  in  the  Bible  which 
adores  as  it  describes  :  "  God  is  love  !" 

John,  the  beloved  disciple,  soon  shows  him- 
self the  loving  apostle.  Specially,  in  that  re- 
membered passage  of  his  first  epistle,  near  the 
beginning  of  the  fourth  chapter,  he  pictures  a 
range  of  experience  extending  from  God  to 
man  and  from  man  to  his  fellow-man,  very 
rare  and  beautiful,  and  full  of  practical  sug- 
gestion to  all  who  will  study  it.  He  shows 
us  love  as  an  embodiment  in  God,  love  as  a 
manifestation  by  God,  and  love  as  a  force 
from  God.  He  tells  us,  in  the  outset,  that 
the  Creator  had  cherished  an  eternal  affection 
and  solicitude  for  fallen  man.  The  next  step 
leads  him  to  say  that  God  had  plainly  exhib- 
ited his  interest  by  his  careful  providences. 
Then  he  passes  swiftly  and  enthusiastically  on 
in  a  glowing  description  of  the  love.  Then 
he  begins  to  laud  it ;  then  he  vindicates  God's 
claim  for  obedience  on  account  of  it.  Thus 
advancing  constantly,  more  and  more  fully 
under  sway  of  his  theme  as  he  refreshes  his 
own  soul  with  the  deli":hts  of  it,  he  at  last 
reaches  the  climax,  and  in  one  burst  of  ascrip- 
tion, whose  very  simplicity  constitutes  its 
grandeur,  he  declares,  "  God  is  love."  A 
sense  cf  obligation  is  instantly  asserted :  "  Be- 


ATTRIBUTES. 


121 


loved,  let  us  love  one  another :  for  love  is  of 
God ;  and  every  one  that  loveth  is  born  of 
God,  and  knoweth  God.  He  that  loveth  not, 
knoweth  not  God  :  for  God  is  love."  Now 
we  are  not  to  suppose  he  intended  to  give 
here  an  exact  definition  of  the  Supreme  Be- 
ing. The  almighty  Creator  is  a  person,  not 
an  attribute.  John  only  takes  what  he  insists 
to  be  the  chief  characteristic  of  the  Deity,  and 
by  a  bold  stroke  of  rhetoric  affirms  that  he  is 
its  perfection  and  embodiment  at  the  highest. 

266  Omnipresence.  C.  M. 

In  all  my  vast  concerns  with  thee, 

In  vain  my  soul  would  try 
To  shun  thy  presence,  Lord  1  or  flee 

The  notice  of  thine  eye. 

2  Thine  all-surrounding  sight  surveys 
My  rising  an' I  my  rest, 

My  public  walks,  my  private  ways. 
And  secrets  of  my  breast. 

3  My  thoughts  lie  open  to  the  Lord 
Before  they  're  formed  within  ; 

And,  ere  my  lips  pronounce  the  word, 
He  knows  the  sense  I  mean. 

4  Oh,  wondrous  knowledge,  deep  and  high, 
Where  can  a  creature  hide? 

Within  thy  circlincj  arms  I  lie. 
Enclosed  on  every  side. 

5  So  let  thy  grace  surround  me  still, 
And  like  a  bulwark  prove. 

To  guard  my  soul  from  every  ill, 
Secured  by  sovereign  love. 

Dr.  Isaac  Watts  has  given  this  as  his  ver- 
sion of  Psalm  139,  First  Part,  C.  M.  It  con- 
sists of  ten  stanzas,  and  is  divided  by  a 
"  pause  "  into  two  portions  suitable  for  sing- 
ing. He  has  entitled  it,  "  God  is  Everywhere." 
There  is  to  some  persons  a  measure  of  un- 
welcomeness  in  the  nation  of  God's  omni- 
science. Their  hearts  are  not  altogether  pure 
or  true.  This  fact,  that  the  Almighty  One, 
who  was  the  Maker  and  is  to  be  the  Judge  of 
the  world,  sees  everything  and  everybody, 
seems  like  a  system  of  police  espionage,  or 
the  suspicious  watching  of  a  spy.  It  is  un- 
comfortable for  them  to  think  of  it.  It  is  re- 
corded of  Lafayette  that,  when  he  was  in 
prison  at  Olmutz,  a  band  of  soldiers  was  set 
to  guard  his  cell,  one  of  whom  was  ordered 
to  stand  with  his  eye  at  an  orifice  in  the  door. 
Thus,  succeeding  each  other  in  the  mean  of- 
fice hour  after  hour,  they  kept  up  a  strict 
scrutiny  of  every  act  or  attitude  or  motion. 
He  wrote  to  the  authorities  finally  that  he  268 
could  not  endure  it.  Now  if  anybody  thus 
conceives  or  caricatures  divine  omniscience  as 
being  a  mere  cold  and  cruel  requisition  look- 
ing for  guilt  to  condemn,  it  is  necessary  only 
for  us  to  quote  for  his  consideration  a  verse 
from  the  Book  of  God  (2  Chron.  16:9): 
"  The   eyes   of   the    Lord   run   to   and    fro 


throughout  the  whole  earth,  to  show  himself 
strong  in  the  behalf  of  them  whose  heart  is 
perfect  towards  him."  Thus  we  learn  that 
God  keeps  his  eyes  upon  us  not  to  detect 
sins  ;  he  is  only  seeking  chances  to  help  such 
believers  as  love  and  trust  him.  He  is  not 
looking  for  faults,  but  for  opportunities  to  be- 
friend us. 

267  Eternity.  C.  M. 

Grhat  God  !  how  infinite  art  thou  ! 

What  worthless  worms  are  we  ! 
Let  the  whole  race  of  creatures  bow, 

And  pay  their  praise  to  thee. 

2  Thy  throne  eternal  ages  stood. 
Ere  seas  or  stars  were  made: 

Thou  art  the  ever-living  God, 
Were  all  the  nations  dead. 

3  Eternity,  with  all  its  years. 
Stands  present  in  thy  view  ; 

To  thee  there  's  nothing  old  appears — 
Great  God  !  there  's  nothing  new. 

4  Our  lives  through  various  scenes  are  drawn. 
And  vexed  with  trifling  cares  ; 

While  thine  eternal  thought  moves  on 
Thine  undisturbed  affairs. 

5  Great  God  !  how  infinite  art  thou  ! 
What  worthless  worms  are  we  ! 

Let  the  whole  race  of  creatures  bow. 
And  pay  their  praise  to  thee. 

Dr.  Isaac  Watts  has  given  us  this  as  No. 
67,  Book  II.,  of  his  Hymns,  1707.  It  has  there 
six  stanzas,  and  is  entitled  "  God's  Eternal 
Dominion." 

The  glor>'  of  the  Almighty  God  is  without 
beginning  and  without  end.  Whether  it  was 
meant  or  not,  the  fact  is  significant  that  the 
word  "  eternity  "  occurs  but  once  in  our  Eng- 
lish Bible.  A  solitary  verse  employs  it  to 
speak  of  the  residence  of  Jehovah  :  "  For  thus 
saith  the  high  and  lofty  one  that  inhabiteth 
eternity,  whose  name  is  Holy,  I  dwell  in  the 
high  and  holy  place,  with  him  also  that  is  of 
a  contrite  and  humble  spirit,  to  revive  the 
spirit  of  the  humble,  and  to  revive  the  heart 
of  the  contrite  ones."  Hence,  there  are  two 
heavens  of  glory  where  God  deigns  to  show 
his  splendor,  revealed  by  this  solemn,  won- 
derfiil  word  —  the  purified  paradise  and  the 
purified  heart.  The  great,  bright,  mysterious 
heaven  is  everlasting;  and  of  the  obedient 
believer  we  are  told  his  "  heart  shall  live  for 
ever,"  for  "  he  that  doeth  the  will  of  God 
abideth  for  ever." 


"  Te  Deunt." 

O  God  !  we  praise  thee  and  confess 

That  thou  the  only  Lord 
And  everlasting  Father  art, 

By  all  the  earth  adored. 

2  To  thee  all  angels  cry  aloud  ; 

To  thee  the  powers  on  high. 
Both  cherubim  and  seraphim, 

Continually  do  cry  : — 


C.  M. 


god: — THE   FATHER. 


3  O  holy,  holy,  holy  Lord,  269 
Whom  heavenly  hosts  obey, 

The  world  is  with  the  glory  filled 
Of  thy  majestic  sway  ! 

4  The  apostles'  glorious  company. 
And  prophets  crowned  with  light, 

With  all  the  martyrs'  noble  host, 
Thy  constant  praise  recite. 

5  The  holy  church  throughout  the  world, 

O  Lord,  confesses  thee, 
That  thou  the  eternal  Father  art, 
Of  boundless  majesty. 

This  version  of  the  ancient  Te  Deum  has 
played  fast  and  loose  among  the  various  com- 
mentators, tossed  about  between  Bishop  Pat- 
rick and  Nahum  Tate.  Generally  at  present 
it  is  suffered  tranquilly  to,  remain  as  having 
been  written  by  the  latter. 

Born  in  Dublin  in  1652,  Nahum  Tate  was 
the  son  of  Faithful  Teate,  D.  D.,  an  Irish  cler- 
gyman.    He  received  his  education  at  Trinity 
College.      With    Dryden's    help,  he    wrote 
nearly  all  of  Absalom  and  Achitophel,  and  he 
succeeded  Shadwell  as  Poet  Laureate.     After 
an  intemperate  and  improvident  life,  he  died 
in  London  August   12,  171 5.      Once  in  the 
American  Chapel,  in  the  city  of  Paris,  the 
somewhat  fastidious  leader  asked,  concerning 
this  piece,  whether  the  text  of  it  in  the  hymn- 
book  there  used  was  the  same  as  in  the  Bible, 
or  as  in  the  psalter  of  the  prayer  book.     It  is 
hardly  necessary  to  say  to  well-informed  peo- 
ple that  this  is  not  one  of  David's  psalms.    It 
was  composed  full  a  thousand  years  before 
the  version  of  King  James  was  made  or  the 
English  Book  of  Prayer  compiled.     We  can- 
not be  certain  that  Ambrose,  the  Bishop  of 
Milan,  was  the  author  of  it ;  but  it  has  by 
many  of  the  best  authorities  been  credited  to 
him ;  and  there  is  no  doubt  of  its  having  been 
written  in  the  fourth  century.     Some  will  be 
interested  in  reading  a  paragraph  from  Chris- 
tian Life  in  Song,  by  Mrs.  Charles.    She  says     270 
of  the  Te  Deu7n :  "It  is  at  once  a  hymn,  a 
creed,  and  a  prayer ;  or  rather  it  is  a  creed 
taking  wing  and  soaring  heavenward.     It  is 
faith  seized  with  a  sudden  joy  as  she  counts 
her  treasures,  and  laying  them  at  the  feet  of 
Jesus  in  a  song.     It  is  the  incense  of  prayer 
rising  so  near  the  rainbow  round  the  throne 
as  to  catch  its  light  and  become  radiant,  as 
well  as  fragrant — a  cloud  of  incense  illumined 
with  a  cloud  of  glory."     So  famous  has  this 
canticle  grown  to  be  in  history,  that,  for  cen- 
turies, when  high  days  of  success  have  sum- 
moned  the   Church   at   large  to  praise,  the 
language  of  prelate  and  emperor  and  king 
has  been  the  same :  "  Let  the  Te  Deum  be 
sung."    The  anthem  of  Ambrose  has  become 
the  Jubilee  of  Christendom. 


Providence. 


CM. 


Keep  silence,  all  created  things  ! 

And  wait  your  Maker's  nod  ; 
My  soul  stands  trembling,  while  she  sings 

The  honors  of  her  God. 

2  Life,  death,  and  hell,  and  worlds  unknown. 
Hang  on  his  firm  decree ; 

He  sits  on  no  precarious  throne, 
Nor  borrows  leave  to  be. 

3  His  providence  unfolds  the  book. 
And  makes  his  counsels  shine  ; 

Each  opening  leaf,  and  every  stroke, 
Fulfills  some  deep  design. 

4  My  God  !  I  would  not  long  to  see 
My  fate  with  curious  eyes — 

What  gloomy  lines  are  writ  for  me, 
Or  what  bright  scenes  may  rise. 

5  In  thy  fair  book  of  life  and  grace, 
Oh,  may  I  find  my  name 

Recorded  in  some  humble  place, 
Beneath  my  Lord,  the  Lamb. 

Dr.  Isaac  Watts  entitled  this  hymn,  "  God's 
Dominion  and  Decrees,"  and  it  is  to  be  found 
in  his  HorcB  Lyricce,  1706-9.  It  is  one  of 
the  noblest  and  grandest  of  his  productions. 
Some  years  ago,  when  the  compiler  of  this 
collection  w^as  making  one  of  his  earlier 
books,  he  was  accosted  by  Rev.  Thornton  A. 
Mills,  D.  D.,  who  at  that  period  was  at  the 
height  of  his  fame  and  influence.  He  had 
just  been  given  by  the  Presbyterian  Church 
its  loftiest  honor  as  the  Moderator  of  its  su- 
preme judicatory.  "  So  you  are  getting  up  a 
new  hymn-book,"  said  he  quietly.  "  What  do 
you  find  to  fill  it  T'  Of  course,  the  great  man 
received  a  somewhat  miscellaneous  reply  as 
to  authors,  concluding  with  the  statement 
that  the  most  and  the  best  would  come  from 
Watts  and  Wesley.  He  bent  his  eyes  keenly 
upon  the  young  man,  as  he  said,  "  See  to  it 
you  put  in  '  Keep  silence,  all  created  things  :' 
is  there  anything  on  earth  that  can  surpass 
such  a  hymn  as  that  ?" 

Power.  CM. 

The  Lord,  our  God,  is  full  of  might, 

The  winds  obey  his  will ; 
He  speaks,  and,  in  his  heavenly  height, 

The  rolling  sun  stands  still. 

2  Rebel,  ye  waves,  and  o'er  the  land 
With  threatening  aspect  roar  ; 

The  Lord  uplifts  his  awful  hand, 
And  chains  you  to  the  shore. 

3  Howl,  winds  of  night,  your  force  combine  ; 
Without  his  high  behest 

Ye  shall  not,  in  the  mountain  pine, 
Disturb  the  sparrow's  nest. 

4  His  voice  sublime  is  heard  afar, 
In  distant  peals  it  dies  ; 

He  yokes  the  whirlwind  to  his  car. 
And  sweeps  the  howling  skies. 

5  Ye  nations,  bend — in  reverence  bend ; 
Ye  monarchs,  wait  his  nod. 

And  bid  the  choral  song  ascend 
To  celebrate  vour  God . 


ATTRIBUTES. 


123 


HENRY   KIRKE  WHITE. 


This  hymn,  written  by  Henry  Kirke  White, 
shows  a  poetic  fervor  and  loftiness  of  imagi- 
nation unusual  in  religious  lyrics.  It  reached 
the  public  first  in  l3r.  CoUyer's  collection, 
Hymns  Partly  Collected  and  Pdrily  Original, 
1812.    It  is  entitled,  "  The  Eternal  Monarch." 

When  one  contemplates  the  general  subject 
of  heredity  he  is  confronted  with  the  fact  that 
Henry  Kirke  White  was  the  son  of  a  butcher. 
What  his  rearing  must  have  been  no  one 
needs  to  inquire  ;  for  the  fact  remains  that  he 
was  a  poet  of  the  highest  order,  and  a  hym- 
nist  whose  piety  and  talent  were  welcome  to 
the  churches.  His  temperament  was  sensi- 
tive and  imaginative  in  the  extreme.  He  was 
bom  in  Nottingham,  England,  March  21, 
1785.  His  fame  began  with  the  publication 
of  his  book  of  poems  in  1803,  and  he  died 
while  in  the  course  of  his  education  in  Cam- 
bridge University,  only  twenty-one  years  old. 
At  fourteen  he  had  been  apprenticed  to  a 
weaver  of  stockings  ;  to  this  he  could  not  sub- 
mit, and  he  afterward  began  the  study  of  the 
law.  But  the  Lord  had  other  ends  for  him  to 
serve ;  he  soon  became  a  devout  Christian, 
and  then  he  chose  to  be  a  preacher  of  the 
Gospel.  He  died  of  consumption  on  Sunday, 
October  19,  1806,  before  he  had  taken  orders 
in  the  English  Church.  The  circumstances 
of  his  conversion,  as  we  find  them  stated  in 
his  biographies,  short  and  long,  are  interest- 
ing and  instructive.  One  of  his  intimate 
friends  became  a  Christian,  and,  knowing  that 
White  was  a  skeptic  and  was  apt  to  deride 
religious  people,  avoided  him ;  this  attracted 


an  instant  notice ;  and  when  the  comrade  was 
asked  the  reason  of  his  coldness  he  frankly 
told  his  fellow-student  that  he  had  given  him- 
self to  a  Saviour  he  trusted  and  loved,  and 
was  going  to  lead  a  new  life.  These  tokens 
of  separation  and  rejection  cut  the  young 
skeptic  to  the  heart ;  and  the  result  was  that 
he  too  became  a  follower  of  the  same  Lord. 

27  I  Majesty.— Psa.  18.  C.  M. 

The  Lord  descended  from  above. 
And  bowed  the  heavens  most  high  ! 

And  underneath  his  feet  lie  cast 
The  darkness  of  the  sky. 

2  On  cherub  and  on  cherubim 
Full  royally  he  rode  ; 

And  on  the  wings  of  mighty  winds 
Came  flying  all  abroad. 

3  He  sat  serene  upon  the  floods, 
Their  fury  to  restrain  ; 

And  he,  as  sovereign  Lord  and  King, 
For  evermore  shall  reign. 

4  The  Lord  will  give  his  people  strength, 
Whereby  they  shall  increase ; 

And  he  will  bless  his  chosen  flock 
With  everlasting  peace. 

5  Give  glory  to  his  awful  name. 
And  honor  hini  alone ; 

Give  worship  to  his  majesty. 
Upon  his  holy  throne. 

The  present  hymn  is  composed  of  two 
verses  taken  from  the  eighteenth  Psalm,  and 
of  three  verses  added  from  the  twenty-ninth. 
The  stanzas  seem  to  have  been  grouped  many 
years  ago  in  order  to  furnish  a  smooth  and 
musical  specimen,  or  representative,  of  the  old 
collection  which  goes  by  the  name  of  Stern- 
hold  and  Hopkins,  1 562.  The  first  of  these 
men  evidently  did  the  main  work.  Thomas 
Sternhold  was  a  Hampshire  man,  and  lived 
for  a  while  in  an  estate  called  "  The  Hayfield," 
near  Blakeney.  He  studied  at  Oxford,  but  for 
some  reason  did  not  graduate  from  any  col- 
lege. Many  public  positions  were  given  him 
by  Henry  VIII.  Little  is  known  concerning 
his  life,  and  he  died  in  1549. 

Thomas  Sternhold.  groom  of  the  robes 
under  Edward  VI.  of  England  in  the  six- 
teenth century,  perceived  that  the  courtiers 
were  singing  to  their  ladyloves  songs  which 
were  ribald  and  indecent ;  he  was  brave 
enough  to  believe  they  would  use  something 
better  if  they  only  found  it  within  reach.  Be- 
ing a  devout  man  withal,  he  constructed  in 
meter  versions  of  fifty-one  psalms,  and  these 
he  adapted  to  music,  in  the  expectation  that 
the  gallants  would  prefer  religion  to  indecen- 
cy ;  but  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  he 
was  somewhat  cruelly  disappointed.  An  in- 
genuity of  wit  was  able  to  turn  his  efforts  into 
new  weapons  of  ridicule.  They  called  his  pro- 
ductions "  Geneva  Jigs,"  and  put  them  in  com- 


124 


GOD  : — THE   FATHER. 


pany  with  others  they  dubbed  "  Baza's  ballets," 
and  made  the  town  ring. 

This  is  the  quaint  story  of  the  origin  which 
The  Complete  Psalter  had.  Edition  after 
edition  of  it  was  issued,  as  the  need  demanded, 
and  so  these  versions  of  the  Psalms  satisfied 
the  English-speaking  world  for  more  than  a 
hundred  years.  There  lies  before  me  as  I 
write  an  old  octavo  volume,  lately  sent  me 
from  abroad  by  the  generosity  and  thought- 
fulness  of  one  of  my  best  friends.  It  is  a 
curiosity  in  itself ;  for  it  is  absolutely  unbro- 
ken, almost  unstained,  without  any  binding 
left,  and  yet  untorn  and  perfect  in  every  leaf. 
It  has  on  its  title-page  the  record :  "  London, 
Printed  for  the  Companie  of  Stationers,  1609." 
The  entire  inscription  is  w-orth  copying,  and 
reads  :  "  The  Whole  Booke  of  Psalmes.  Col- 
lected into  English  Meeter  by  Thomas  Stern- 
hold,  lohn  Hopkins  and  others,  conferred  wdth 
the  Hebrewe,  with  apt  Notes  to  Sing  them  with 
all.  Set  forth  and  allowed  to  be  Sung  in  all 
Churches,  of  all  the  people  together,  and  after 
Morning  and  Euening  prayer,  as  also  before 
and  after  Sermons :  and  moreouer  in  priuate 
Houses,  for  their  godly  solace  and  comfort, 
laying  apart  all  vngodly  Songs  and  Ballads, 
which  tend  onely  to  the  nourishing  of  vice, 
and  corrupting  of  Yovth.  Colossians  III. 
Let  the  word  of  God  dwell  plenteously  in  you 
in  all  wisedome.  teaching  and  exhorting  one 
another  in  Psalmes,  Hymnes.  and  spiritual 
Songs,  and  Sing  to  the  Lord  in  your  hearts, 
lames.  V.  If  any  be  afflicted,  let  him  Pray,  if 
any  be  merrie,  let  him  sing  Psalmes."  This 
book  contains  the  tunes  likewise  for  the  con- 
gregation, each  set  to  its  appropriate  psalm 
in  monotone.  Only  the  one  strong  sober 
melody  is  given,  and  no  harmony  is  at- 
tempted. 

With  this  most  interesting  gift  to  me  came 
also  two  other  books,  of  the  same  size,  but 
printed  in  the  old  black-letter.  These,  un- 
fortunately, are  injured  in  the  lapse  of  ages, 
and  are  incomplete ;  but  they  bear  the  date 
four  years  earlier,  1605,  and  are  pathetically 
marked  by  the  handwriting  of  some  one  who 
used  them  centuries  ago.  How  strange  it 
seems  to  think  of  that  unknown  owner,  and 
to  try  to  imagine  w-here  he  is  singing  now  in 
the  rest  that  remaineth  I 

272  My  Father.  C.  M.  D. 

0  God,  thy  power  is  wonderful, 
Thy  glory  passing  bright ; 

Thy  wisdom,  with  its  deep  on  deep, 
A  rapture  to  the  sight. 

1  see  thee  in  the  eternal  years 

In  glory  all  alone. 
Ere  round  thine  uncreated  fires 
Created  Tght  had  shone. 


2  I  see  thee  walk  in  Eden's  shade, 
I  see  thee  all  through  time  ; 

Thy  patience  and  compassion  seem 

New  attributes  sublime. 
I  see  thee  when  the  doom  is  o'er, 

And  outworn  time  is  done, 
Still,  still  incomprehensible, 

O  God,  yet  not  alone. 

3  Angelic  spirits,  countless  souls, 
Of  thee  have  drunk  their  fill ; 

And  to  eternity  will  drink 

Thy  joy  and  glory  still. 
O  little  heart  of  mine  !  shall  pain 

Or  sorrow  make  thee  moan, 
When  all  this  God  is  all  for  thee. 

A  Father  all  thine  own  ? 

Another  of  the  hymns  of  Rev.  Frederick 
William  Faber,  D.  D.  This  is  con.piled  from 
his  poem  with  twelve  stanzas,  entitled  "  My 
Father."  It  is  a  direct  and  exquisite  presen- 
tation of  the  supreme  fatherhood  of  the 
almighty  God,  the  love  and  tenderness  he 
cherishes  for  every  living  soul  whom  his  wis- 
dom has  called  into  existence.  Human  his- 
tory, from  the  Garden  of  Eden  to  the  Para- 
dise of  Heaven,  is  only  the  story  of  divine 
patience  and  care.  Theon,  one  of  Hillel's 
disciples,  was  one  day  reading  in  the  Holy 
Scriptures.  Unable  to  reconcile  what  he 
found  in  some  of  the  chapters  concerning  the 
wrath  and  the  love  of  Jehovah,  he  closed  the 
book  and  appealed  to  his  teacher  for  aid. 
Hillel  said,  with  his  usual  sage  counsel : 
"  Listen  to  my  story.  There  lived  in  Alex- 
andria two  fathers,  wealthy  merchants,  who 
had  two  sons  of  the  same  age,  whom  they 
sent  to  Ephesus  on  business.  Both  had 
been  instructed  in  the  religion  of  their  pa- 
rents ;  but  they  yielded  to  the  allurements  of 
that  heathen  city  and  became  idolaters. 
When  Cleon,  one  of  these  fathers,  heard  of 
the  wrong-doing  he  w'as  wroth ;  he  went  to 
the  other  father  and  told  him  of  the  apostasy 
of  the  young  men.  The  man  laughed  care- 
lessly as  he  replied  :  '  If  business  prospers 
with  my  son  it  matters  not  about  religion." 
Cleon  was  still  more  wroth  when  he  heard 
such  indifference  confessed.  And  now," 
continued  Hillel  the  sage,  "  Tell  me,  Theon, 
which  of  these  two  fathers  was '  the  better 
one.'"  Theon  was  wise  enough  to  answer, 
"  He  who  was  wroth."  Hillel  persisted : 
"  Which  was  the  kinder  and  the  more  lov- 
ing ?"  Theon  still  said  :  "  He  who  was  wroth ; 
he  who  was  the  more  wroth  as  the  sin  was 
mocked  at."  Then  Hillel  put  the  question 
which  solved  the  enigma  at  once :  "  Was 
Cleon  wroth  with  his  dear  son  all  this  time.''" 
And  Theon,  w^ith  brightening  eyes,  replied  : 
"  No,  not  wroth  with  his  son  so  much  as 
with  his  son's  apostasy."  So  Hillel  closed 
the  conversation :  "  From  this  thou  canst 
think  divinely  of  what  is  divine." 


ATTRIBUTES. 


125 


273 


Perfections. 


C.  M.  D. 


I  SING  the  almighty  power  of  God, 
That  made  the  moutitaiiis  rise, 

That  spread  the  flowing  seas  abroad, 
And  built  the  lofty  skies. 

1  sing  the  wisdom  that  ordained 
The  sun  to  rule  the  day  ; 

The  moon  shines  full  at  his  command. 
And  all  the  stars  obey. 

2  I  sing  the  goodness  of  the  Lord, 
That  filled  the  earth  with  food  ; 

He  formed  the  creatures  will)  liis  word, 
And  then  pronounced  them  |:ood. 

Lord  !  how  thy  wonders  are  displayed 
Where'er  I  turn  mine  eye  ! 

If  I  survey  the  ground  I  tread. 
Or  gaze  upon  the  sky  ! 

3  There 's  not  a  plant  or  flower  below 
But  makes  thy  glories  known  ; 

And  clouds  arise,  and  tempests  blow, 

By  order  from  thy  throne. 
Creatures  that  borrow  life  from  thee 

Are  subject  to  thy  care  ; 
There  's  not  a  place  where  we  can  flee 

But  God  is  present  there. 

This  hymn  comes  to  us  from  Dr.  Isaac 
Watts'  Divine  and  Moral  Songs  for  the  Use 
of  C/nldren,  171 5.  It  has  eight  stanzas  there, 
and  bears  the  title,  "  Praise  for  Creation  and 
Providence."  It  is  designed  first  of  all  to 
make  upon  young  minds  the  impression  that 
God  is  to  be  seen  in  his  works  as  well  as  in 
his  Word.  One  of  our  religious  papers  has 
lately  quoted  the  expression  of  a  great  Eng- 
lish naturalist :  "  I  know  nothing  of  heaven, 
but  I  have  learned  the  infinite  wisdom  and 
love  of  the  Power  who  gave  its  gills  to  the 
fish,  and  I  am  not  afraid  to  trust  myself  into 
his  hands."  Those  who  live  closest  to  nature, 
with  keen  appreciation  of  the  beauty  and 
order  which  pervade  the  world  around  us, 
are  touched  more  nearly  by  what  they  find 
disclosed  there  concerning  the  infinite  justice 
and  mercy  of  the  Creator  than  they  would  be 
by  any  human  logic.  Nature  and  revelation 
are  the  declaration  of  one  God.  Mungo 
Park  tells  us  that  he  once  lost  his  way  in  a 
desert  in  Africa,  and  saw  no  escape  before 
him  from  starvation  and  death.  Suddenly  he 
caught  sight  of  a  patch  of  moss  growing  in 
the  sand.  Its  strength  and  beauty  startled 
him,  in  this  unexpected  place,  as  something 
almost  miraculous.  "  I  went  on  my  way 
comforted,"  he  says.  "  I  knew  that  the 
Power  which  had  made  and  protected  that 
bit  of  moss  could  and  would  care  for  me." 
To  the  majority  of  men  the  hearing  of  ser- 
mons and  public  worship  is  the  shortest  way 
to  God.  They  are,  however,  too  apt  to  for- 
get that  there  is  any  other.  They  neglect  to 
teach  their  children  to  understand  the  beauty 
in  a  spear  of  grass,  the  reason  for  the  red 
color  of  the  rose,  the  curve  in  the  foot  of  the 
fly,  or  any  other  detail  of  the  vast  and  perfect 


movement  which  we  call  nature ;  and  they 
show  them  nothing  of  the  eternal  Power  be- 
hind this  movement.  "  There  are  many 
voices  in  the  world  and  none  of  them  are 
without  signification."  These  voices,  each  in 
its  own  language,  are  intended  to  tell  us  of 
the  justice  and  love  of  our  heavenly  Father. 
If  we  close  our  ears  to  any  of  them,  we  by  so 
much  shut  ourselves  out  from  his  help  on 
our  journey  to  him. 

274  Nature  and  Grace.  C.  M. 

Father  !  how  wide  thy  glorj'  shines  ! 

How  high  thy  wonders  rise! 
Known  through  the  earth  by  thousand  signs, 

By  thousand  through  the  skies. 

2  Those  mighty  orbs  proclaim  thy  power, 
Their  motions  speak  thy  skill ; 

And  on  the  wings  of  every  hour 
We  read  thy  patience  still. 

3  But,  when  we  view  thy  strange  design 
To  save  rebellious  worms, 

Where  vengeance  and  compassion  join 
In  their  divinest  forms — 

4  Here  the  whole  Deity  is  known  ; 
Nor  dares  a  creature  guess 

Which  of  the  glories  brightest  shone, 
The  justice  or  the  grace. 

5  Now  the  full  glories  of  the  Lamb 
Adorn  the  heavenly  plains  ; 

Bright  seraphs  learn  Immanuel's  name, 
And  try  tlieir  choicest  strains. 

6  Oh,  may  I  bear  some  humble  part 
In  that  immortal  song ; 

Wonder  and  joy  shall  tune  my  heart, 
And  love  command  my  tongue. 

Dr.  Isaac  Watts  published  in  1706  a  small 
volume  bearing  the  name  of  HorcE  Lyricce  : 
Poems,  chiefly  of  the  Lyric  Kind.  This  was 
the  year  before  the  issue  of  his  Hymns  and 
Spirihial  Songs:  in  Three  Books.  This  is 
the  probable  explanation  of  a  fact  so  surpris- 
ing as  that  this  fine  piece  is  not  found  in  the 
collections  for  public  singing  to  which  his 
name  is  attached.  It  is  not  in  Watts' ,  but  in 
Worcester' s  Watts.  It  appeared  in  the 
Horce  Lyricce.  This  author  was  as  quick  as 
King  David  himself  to  see  the  wonderful  sug- 
gestions of  divine  power,  mingled  with  divine 
grace,  in  the  brilliant  heavens  overhead. 
Indeed,  he  was  a  sprt  of  spiritual  astronomer, 
seeking  always  for  stars.  He  felt  certain  that 
all  which  was  needed  for  convincing  an  un- 
believer was  just  to  make  sure  that  "  the 
whole  Deity  "  should  be  known. 

In  this  respect  it  is  interesting  to  compare 
his  experience  with  that  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton, 
who,  it  is  said,  set  out  in  life  a  clamorous 
infidel,  but  on  a  nice  examination  of  the  evi- 
dences of  Christianity  was  convinced  and 
hopefully  converted.  Late  in  his  career, 
Newton  remarked   to  an  acquaintance  who 


126 


GOD  : — THE   FATHER. 


suddenly  avowed  skeptical  sentiments :  "  My 
friend,  I  am  always  glad  to  hear  you  when 
you  speak  about  astronomy  or  other  parts  of 
mathematics,  because  that  is  a  subject  that 
you  have  studied  and  understand  well.  But 
you  should  not  talk  of  Christianity,  for  you 
have  not  studied  it.  I  have,  and  so  I  am 
certain  that  you  know  nothing  of  the 
matter." 

275  Goodness. — Psa.  145.  C.  M. 

Sweet  is  the  memory  of  thy  grace, 

My  God,  my  heavenly  King  ; 
Let  age  to  age  thy  righteousness 

In  sounds  of  glory  sing. 

2  God  reigns  on  high  ;  but  ne'er  confines 
His  goodness  to  the  skies  : 

Through  the  whole  earth  his  bounty  shines 
And  every  want  supplies. 

3  With  longing  eyes  thy  creatures  wait 
On  thee  for  daily  food ; 

Thy  liberal  hand  provides  their  meat, 
And  fills  their  mouth  with  good. 

4  How  kind  are  thy  compassions,  Lord  I 
How  slow  thine  anger  moves  ! 

But  soon  he  sends  his  pardoning  word 
To  cheer  the  souls  he  loves. 

Here  we  have  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  version  of 
Psalm  145,  the  Second  Part,  CM.  It  has 
five  stanzas,  and  is  entitled  :  "  The  Goodness 
of  God."  This  has  always  been  a  favorite 
song  among  the  churches  because  of  its  lively 
call  to  grateful  reminiscences  out  of  a  pros- 
pered past.  There  used  to  be  twenty  years 
ago  a  tract,  put  into  circulation  by  one  of 
the  great  Societies,  having  on  its  cover  the 
best  motto  possible  for  a  genuine  Christian : 
"  Count  up  your  mercies."  It  is  wise  to  take 
cheerful  views  of  divine  things.  One  of  our 
most  thoughtful  modern  preachers  has  given 
us  much  good  sense  in  his  counsel,  as  well  as 
a  beautiful  figure  for  its  utterance,  when  he 
says :  "  Dwell  on  your  mercies ;  be  sure  to 
look  at  the  bright  as  well  as  the  dark  side. 
Do  not  cherish  gloomy  forebodings.  Melan- 
choly is  no  friend  to  devotion ;  it  greatly  hin- 
ders the  usefulness  of  many.  It  falls  upon 
the  contented  life  like  a  drop  of  ink  on  white 
paper,  which  is  not  the  less  a  stain  because  it 
carries  no  meaning  with  it." 


276 


In  Nature. 


CM. 


Lord,  when  my  raptured  thought  surveys 

Creation's  beauties  o'er. 
All  nature  joins  to  teach  thy  praise, 

And  bid  my  soul  adore. 

2  Where'er  1  turn  my  gazing  eyes, 
Thy  radiant  footsteps  shine  ;' 

Ten  thousand  pleasing  wonders  rise 
And  speak  their  source  divine. 

3  On  me  thy  providence  has  shone 
With  gentle  smiling  rays  ; 

Oh,  let  my  lips  and  life  make  known 
Thy  goodness  and  thy  praise. 


4  All-bounteous  Lord,  thy  grace  impart ! 

Oh,  teach  me  to  improve 
Thy  gilts  with  liumble,  grateful  heart. 

And  crown  them  with  thy  love. 

Miss  Anne  Steele's  experience  is  all  the 
more  welcome  to  such  as  love  her  hymns  be- 
cause of  the  rarity  of  her  exhibition  of  it.  In 
connection  with  this  piece,  which  really  con- 
sists of  fourteen  stanzas,  as  it  appeared  under 
her  name  of  "Theodosia"  in  1760,  entitled 
"  Meditating  on  Creation  and  Providence," 
her  words  are  often  quoted  :  "  I  enjoy  a  calm 
evening  on  the  terrace-walk,  and  I  wish, 
though  in  vain,  for  numbers  sweet  as  the 
lovely  prospect  and  gentle  as  the  vernal 
breeze  to  describe  the  beauties  of  charming 
spring ;  but  the  reflection  how  soon  these 
blooming  pleasures  will  vanish  spreads  a 
melancholy  gloom,  till  the  mind  rises  by  a 
delightful  transition  to  the  celestial  Eden — 
the  scenes  of  undecaying  pleasure  and  im- 
mutable perfection."  And  this  at  once  turns 
us  away  to  a  strain  of  holy  feeling  very  simi- 
lar, only  given  us  from  a  mind  and  heart 
almost  world-wide  in  its  separation  from  a 
woman  like  that  tremulous  creature  who 
wrote  the  hymn  ;  this  is  what  the  great  meta- 
physician, Jonathan  Edwards,  said  of  his 
meditation  on  the  same  theme:  "As  I  was 
walking  and  looking  up  at  the  sky  and  clouds 
there  came  into  my  mind  so  sweet  a  sense  of 
the  glorious  majesty  and  grace  of  God  that  I 
knew  not  how  to  express  it.  I  seemed  to  see 
them  both  in  a  sweet  conjunction — majesty 
and  meekness  joined  together ;  it  was  a  sweet 
and  gentle  and  holy  majesty,  and  also  a  ma- 
jestic sweetness,  an  awful  sweetness ;  a  high 
and  great  and  holy  gentleness.  God's  excel- 
lency, his  wisdom,  his  purity  and  love,  seemed 
to  appear  in  everything :  in  the  sun  and  moon 
and  stars ;  in  the  clouds  and  blue  sky ;  in  the 
grass,  flowers,  trees ;  in  the  water  and  in  all 
nature,  which  used  greatly  to  fix  my  mind. 
I  often  used  to  sit  and  view  the  moon  for 
continuance ;  and  in  the  day  spent  much  time 
in  newing  the  clouds  and  sky  to  behold  the 
sweet  glory  of  God  in  these  things,  in  the 
meantime  singing  forth  with  a  low  voice  my 
contemplations  of  the  Creator  and  Re- 
deemer." 

277  FaUhfulness.  C.  M. 

Begin,  my  tongue,  some  heavenly  theme, 
And  speak  some  boundless  thing  : 

The  mighty  works  or  migl.tier  name 
Of  our  eternal  King. 

2  Tell  of  his  wondrous  faithfulness, 

And  sound  his  power  abroad  ; 
Sing  the  sweet  promise  of  his  grace. 

And  the  performing  God. 


ATTRIBUTES. 


127 


3  His  very  word  of  grace  is  strong 
As  that  which  built  the  skies; 

The  voice  that  rolls  the  stars  along 
Speaks  all  the  promises. 

4  Oh,  might  I  hear  thy  heavenly  tongue 
But  whisper,  "  Thou  art  mine  !" 

Those  gentle  words  should  raise  my  song 
To  notes  almost  divine. 

Dr.  Isaac  Watts  has  given  us  this  hymn  in 
his  Book  II.,  where  it  is  No.  69.  It  consists 
of  nine  stanzas,  and  is  entitled,  "  The  Faith- 
fulness of  God  in  his  Promises."  It  finds  an 
interesting  illustration  in  an  incident  of  Mar- 
tin Luther's  life,  of  which  the  great  reformer 
furnishes  the  account  in  his  Table-Talk  :  "At 
one  time  I  was  sorely  vexed  and  tried  by  my 
own  sinfulness,"  he  says,  "  by  the  wickedness 
of  the  world,  and  by  the  dangers  that  beset 
the  Church.  One  morning  I  saw  my  wife 
dressed  in  mourning.  Surprised,  I  asked  her 
who  had  died.  '  Do  you  not  know  ?'  she  re- 
plied ;  '  God  in  heaven  is  dead.'  I  said, 
'  How  can  you  talk  such  nonsense,  Katie  ? 
How  can  God  die  ?  He  is  immortal,  and  will 
live  through  all  eternity.'  Then  she  asked, 
'  Is  that  really  true  ?'  '  True,  of  course,'  I 
said,  still  not  perceiving  what  she  was  aiming 
at ;  '  how  can  you  doubt  it  ?  As  surely  as 
there  is  a  God  in  heaven,  so  sure  is  it  that  he 
can  never  die !'  'And  yet,'  she  went  on, 
'  though  you  do  not  doubt  that,  yet  you  are 
so  hopeless  and  discouraged.'  Then  I  ob- 
served what  a  wise  woman  my  wife  was,  and 
mastered  my  sadness." 

278  Omniscience. — Psa.  139.  C.  M. 

Lord  !  where  shall  guilty  souls  retire, 

Forgotten  and  unknown  ? 
In  hell  they  meet  thy  dreadful  fire — 

In  heaven  thy  glorious  throne. 

2  If.  wipged  with  beams  of  morning  light, 
I  fly  beyond  the  west, 

Thy  iiand,  which  must  support  my  flight,  • 

Would  soon  betray  my  rest. 

3  If,  o'er  my  sins,  I  think  to  draw 
The  curtains  of  the  night, 

Those  flaming  eyes,  that  guard  thy  law, 
Would  turn  the  shades  to  light. 

4  The  beams  of  noon,  the  midnight  hour, 
Are  both  alike  to  thee  : 

Oh,  may  I  ne'er  provoke  that  power, 
From  which  I  cannot  flee. 

This  is  the  remainder  of  Dr.  Isaac  Watts' 
version  of  Psalm  139,  of  which  the  first  part 
before  the  "  pause  "  is  given  in  our  No.  266. 


279  Holiness. 

Holy  and  reverend  is  the  name 

Of  our  eternal  King, 
Thrice  holy  Lord  !  the  angels  cry  ; 

Thrice  holy  !  let  us  sing. 

2  The  deepest  reverence  of  the  mind, 
Pay,  O  my  soul  \  to  God  ; 

Lift  with  thy  hands  a  holy  heart 
To  his  sublime  abode. 


CM. 


3  With  sacred  awe  pronounce  his  name. 
Whom  words  nor  thoughts  can  reach  ; 

A  broken  heart  shall  please  him  more 
Than  the  best  forms  of  speech. 

4  Thou  holy  God  !  preserve  our  souls 
From  all  pollution  free : 

The  pure  in  heart  are  thy  delight, 
And  they  thy  face  shall  see. 

Very  little  is  known  to  us  about  Rev.  John 
Needham,  the  writer  of  this  hymn,  even  the 
date  of  his  birth  being  uncertain.  He  was 
the  son  of  a  Baptist  clergyman  in  Hertford- 
shire, England,  who  had  a  reputation  as  a 
learned  man  and  probably  attended  to  the 
education  of  the  boy.  In  1750  John  Need- 
ham  became  co-pastor  with  Rev.  John  Bed- 
dome  of  a  Baptist  church  in  Bristol ;  but  two 
years  later,  on  the  retirement  of  his  senior 
associate,  a  dispute  arose  in  the  congregation 
regarding  the  co-pastorate.  Needham  and 
his  followers  removed  to  a  Baptist  meeting- 
house in  Callowhill  St.,  which  they  shared 
with  another  congregation  and  pastor.  For 
a  time  the  two  societies  existed  independently, 
but  in  1755  they  were  united  with  a  double 
pastorate,  which  arrangement  is  known  to 
have  continued  up  to  1774.  The  exact  date 
of  Needham's  death  is  not  known ;  it  was 
probably  about  1786.  In  1768  he  published 
a  collection  of  two  hundred  and  sixty-three 
hymns,  many  of  which  have  proved  valuable 
in  the  church,  about  fifteen  of  them  being 
still  in  common  use. 

280  Providence.  C.  M, 

God  moves  in  a  mysterious  way 

His  wonders  to  perform  ; 
He  plants  his  footsteps  in  the  sea, 

And  rides  upon  the  storm. 

2  Deep  in  unfathomable  mines 
Of  never-failing  skill 

He  treasures  up  his  bright  de=igns, 
And  works  his  sovereign  will. 

3  Ye  fearful  saints,  fresh  courage  take  1 
The  clouds  ye  so  much  dread 

Are  big  with  mercy,  and  will  break 
III  blessings  on  your  head. 

4  Judge  not  the  Lord  by  feeble  sense, 
But  trust  him  for  his  grace; 

Behind  a  frowning  providence 
He  hides  a  smiling  face. 

5  His  purposes  will  ripen  fast, 
Unfolding  every  hour ; 

The  bud  may  have  a  bitter  taste, 
But  sweet  will  be  the  flower. 

6  Blind  unbelief  is  sure  to  err, 
And  scan  his  work  in  vain  ; 

God  is  his  own  interpreter, 
And  he  will  make  it  plain. 

William  Cowper,  the  bard  of  Olney  (1731- 
1800),  joint  author  with  his  friend  the  Rev. 
John  Newton  of  the  Oiney  Hymns,  wrote  the 
foregoing  exquisite  lines,  says  Montgomery, 
"  in  the  twilight  of  departing  reason."     "  It  is 


128 


GOD  : — THE    FATHER. 


JOHN  NEWTON'S  ViCARAGE  AT  OLNEY. 

said  that  on  one  occasion  Cowper  thought  it 
was  the  divine  will  he  should  go  to  a  particu- 
lar part  of  the  river  Ouse  and  drown  himself ; 
but  the  driver  of  the  postchaise  missed  his 
way,  and  on  the  poet's  return  he  wrote  this 
hymn."  Another  account  is  that  it  was  writ- 
ten when  Cowper  was,  with  too  good  reason, 
apprehending  the  return  of  lunacy,  just  be- 
fore his  final  attack.  Full  of  this  presenti- 
ment, he  went  for  a  solitary  walk  in  the  fields, 
and  composed  the  verses,  "  as  if  to  express 
the  faith  and  love  which  he  retained  so  long 
as  he  possessed  himself." 

In  the  Olney  collection  this  hymn  is  No.  15 
of  the  Third  Book,  1779.  It  was  Cowper's 
last  contribution  to  the  Hymns.  Such  details 
may  be  difficult  of  verification  ;  but  it  is  cer- 
tain that  it  was  composed  when  the  eclipsing 
cloud  had  lifted  its  shadow  from  his  reason, 
rather  than  at  any  time  when  he  was  insane. 
There  is  an  unusual  delicacy  of  sentiment  in 
the  poetry,  and  a  ring  of  joyous  Christian 
confidence. 

The  Rev.  Chas.  H.  Spurgeon  once  preached 
in  Essex,  and  while  there  availed  himself  of 
the  opportunity  of  visiting  the  scenes  of  his 
boyhood.  In  closing  his  Sunday  morning 
sermon  Mr.  Spurgeon  referred  to  the  event, 
mentioning  that  he  sat  down  in  the  very  arbor 
which  stood  in  what  was  once  the  garden  of 
his  grandfather's  manse,  and  in  which  he, 
when  a  lad,  met  the  missionary  who  predicted 
that  he  would  one  day  preach  to  great  multi- 
tudes, and  would  occupy  Rowland  Hill's  pul- 
pit. The  missionary  gave  him  sixpence  to 
learn  the  hymn,  "  God  moves  in  a  mysterious 


way,"  and  made  young  Spurgeon  promise 
that  when  preaching  in  Rowland  Hill's 
chapel  he  would  have  that  hymn  sung.  Mr. 
Spurgeon  in  course  of  time  preached  both  in 
Surrey  chapel  and  in  Rowland  Hill's  church 
at  Wootton-under-Edge,  and  on  each  occa- 
sion the  hymn  selected  by  the  missionary  was 
sung. 

28 1  Traveler's  Hymn.  C.  M. 

HuW  are  thy  servants  blest,  O  Lord  ! 

How  sure  is  their  defence  ! 
Eternal  wisdom  is  their  guide. 

Their  help,  omnipotence. 

2  In  foreign  realms,  and  lands  remote. 
Supported  by  thy  care, 

Through  burning  climes  they  pass  unhurt, 
And  breathe  in  tainted  air. 

3  When  by  the  dreadful  tempest  borne 
High  on  the  broken  wave, 

They  know  thou  art  not  slow  to  hear, 
Nor  impotent  to  save. 

4  The  storm  is  laid,  the  winds  retire, 
Obedient  to  thy  will ; 

The  sea,  that  roars  at  thy  command. 
At  thy  command  is  still. 

5  In  midst  of  dangers,  fears,  and  deaths 
Thy  goodness  we  adore  ; 

We  praise  thee  for  thy  mercies  past. 
And  humbly  hope  for  more. 

6  Our  life,  whilst  thou  preservest  life, 
A  sacrifice  shall  be  ; 

And  death,  when  death  shall  be  our  lot, 
Shall  join  our  souls  to  thee. 

In  1700  Joseph  Addison  embarked  at  Mar- 
seilles for  a  tour  abroad.  When  he  came 
back  from  his  travels  he  composed  this  hymn. 
It  is  said  to  have  been  suggested  by  a  storm 
which  he  encountered  upon  the  Mediterranean 
Sea.  The  story  runs  that  the  captain  gave  up 
all  as  lost  at  one  time,  and  went  to  confess 
his  sins  to  a  Capuchin  friar.  Despair  was  in 
•every  heart,  but  the  poet  was  calm,  and  com- 
forted himself  with  the  thoughts  which  he 
afterward  put  into  verse.  The  original  poem 
consists  of  ten  stanzas,  many  of  them  descrip- 
tive and  less  appropriate  as  a  piece  to  be  sung 
in  promiscuous  congregations.  Indeed,  the 
whole  of  the  composition  has  been  altered  in 
many  forms  of  expression.  It  was  first  pub- 
lished in  the  Spectator,  No.  489,  in  171 2,  in 
connection  with  a  spirited  and  interesting  es- 
say entitled  "  The  Sea."  Of  late  years  it  has 
come  to  be  called  the  "  Traveler's  Hymn." 


282  "  The  Trinity:' 

Holy  Father,  hear  ni\-  cry  ; 

Holy  Saviour,  bend  thine  ear  ; 
Holy  Spirit,  come  thou  nigh: 

Father,  Saviour,  Spirit,  hear  ! 
Father,  save  me  from  my  sin  ; 

Saviour,  I  thy  mercy  crave  ; 
Gracious  Spirit,  make  me  clean: 

Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  save ! 


7S.  D. 


ATTRIBUTES. 


129 


2  Father,  let  me  taste  thy  love  ; 

Saviour,  fill  my  soul  with  peace  ; 
Spirit,  come  my  heart  to  move  : 

Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  bless  ! 
Father,  Son,  and  Spirit — thou 

One  Jehovah,  shed  abroad 
All  thy  grace  within  me  now  ; 

Be  my  Father  and  my  God  ! 

This  excellent  hymn  is  quite  a  characteristic 
illustration  of  one  of  Dr.  Horatius  Bonar's 
practices  in  religious  composition.  He  seems 
to  love  to  choose  a  theme  of  meditation,  and 
then  follow  it  with  a  consideration  of  each  of 
the  Persons  of  the  Trinity,  as  they  stand  re- 
lated to  it  in  near  or  remote  agency.  It  is 
entitled  by  him  "A  Child's  Prayer :  Proverbs 
8 :  17."  "  I  love  them  that  love  me ;  and  those 
that  seek  me  early  shall  find  me."  It  first 
appeared  in  1843,  i^i  a  volume  of  Songs  for 
the  Wilderness.  He  afterwards  incorporated 
it  in  his  Hymns  of  Faith  and  Hope  :  Series 
I..  1857. 
283  "Holy,  holy,  holy."  7s,  D. 

Holy,  holy,  holy  Lord 

God  of  Hosts  !  when  heaven  and  earth, 
Out  of  darkness,  at  thy  word 

Issued  into  glorious  birth, 
All  tliy  works  before  thee  stood. 
And  thine  eye  beheld  them  good, 
While  they  sung  with  sweet  accord, 
Holy,  holy,  holy  Lord  ! 

2  Holy,  holy,  holy !  thee, 
One  Jehovah  evermore. 

Father,  Son,  and  Spirit !  we. 

Dust  and  ashes,  would  adore  ; 
Lightly  by  the  world  esteemed. 
From  that  world  by  thee  redeemed. 
Sing  we  here  with  glad  accord. 
Holy,  holy,  holy  Lord  ! 

3  Holy,  holy,  holy  !   all 

Heaven's  triumphant  choir  shall  sing, 
While  the  ransomed  nations  fall 

At  the  footstool  of  their  King  : 
Then  shall  saints  and  seraphim, 
Harps  and  voices,  swell  one  hymn, 
Blending  in  sublime  accord, 
Holy,  holy,  holy  Lord  ! 

James  Montgomery  has  included  this  in  his 
Original  Hymns,  1853;  indeed,  he  commences 
the  book  with  it  as  his  first  offering  of  reverent 
and  adoring  praise.  It  is  entitled  "  Thrice 
Holy !"  and  attached  to  it  for  a  Scripture  ref- 
erence is  Isaiah  6:3.  It  strikes  the  keynote 
of  this  poet's  religious  life.  Unaffected  sin- 
cerity in  worship  is  nowhere  better  taught  than 
in  the  hymns  of  Montgomery.  He  calls  upon 
even  the  instruments  to  be  as  honest  as  the 
singers  ;  the  "  harps  and  voices  "  must  "  swell 
one  hymn."  Such  a  lesson  may  well  be 
leat^ned  in  our  time.  In  our  travels  some  of 
us  have  seen  the  old  organ  in  a  remote  village 
of  Germany,  on  the  case  of  which  are  carv^ed 
in  the  ruggedness  of  Teutonic  characters 
three  mottoes.  If  they  could  be  rendered  from 
their  terse  poetn,'  into  English  they  would  do 
valiant  service  in  our  times  for  all  the  singers 


and  players  together.  Across  the  top  of  the 
key-board  is  this  :  "  Thou  playest  here  not  for 
thyself,  thou  playest  for  the  congregation ;  so 
the  playing  should  elevate  the  heart,  should  be 
simple,  earnest,  and  pure."  Across  above  the 
right-hand  row  of  stops  is  this  :  "  The  organ- 
tone  must  ever  be  adapted  to  the  subject  of 
the  song;  it  is  for  thee,  therefore,  to  read  the 
hymn  entirely  through,  so  as  to  catch  its  true 
spirit."  Across  above  the  left-hand  stops  is 
this :  "  In  order  that  thy  playing  shall  not 
bring  the  singing  into  confusion,  it  is  becom- 
ing that  thou  listen  sometimes,  and  as  thou 
hearest  thou  wilt  be  likelier  to  play  as  God's 
people  sing." 


284 


"Divine  Presence.'' 


7S.  D. 


Lord  of  eartli  !   thy  forming  hand 
Well  this  beauteous  frame  liath  planned  ; 
Woods  that  wave,  and  hills  that  tower, 
Ocean  rolling  in  his  power  : 
Vet,  amiii  this  scene  so  fair. 
Should  I  cease  thy  smile  to  share. 
What  were  all  its  joys  to  me? 
Whom  have  I  on  earth  but  thee  ? 

2  Lord  of  heaven  !  beyond  our  sight 
Shines  a  world  of  purer  light  ; 
There  in  love's  unclouded  reign 
Parted  hands  shall  meet  again: 
Oh,  that  world  is  passing  fair  ! 
Yet,  if  thou  wert  absent  there. 
What  were  all  its  joys  to  me? 
Whom  have  I  m  heaven  but  thee? 

Another  of  Sir  Robert  Grant's  twelve  ex- 
cellent hymns,  collected  after  his  decease  by 
his  brother.  Only  two  stanzas,  out  of  the 
large  number  of  which  the  original  poem 
consists,  have  been  chosen  for  singing.  The 
theme  is  furnished  by  the  verse  of  Psalm  73, 
which  appears  as  the  refrain  closing  each 
quatrain  of  lines  :  "  Whom  have  I  in  heaven 
but  thee,  and  there  is  none  upon  earth  that  I 
desire  beside  thee." 

285  Bounteous  Care.  P.  M. 

Now  thank  we  all  our  God, 

With  heart,  and  hands,  and  voices, 
Who  wondrous  things  hath  done, 

In  whom  the  world  rejoices; 
Who  from  our  mother's  arms 

Hath  blessed  us  on  our  way 
With  countless  gifts  of  love, 

And  still  is  ours  to-day. 

2  Oh,  mav  this  bounteous  God 

Through  all  our  life  be  near  us, 
With  ever  joyful  hearts 

And  blessed  peace  to  cheer  us  ; 
To  keep  us  in  his  grace, 

And  guide  us  when  perplexed. 
And  free  us  from  all  ills 

In  this  world  and  the  next. 

This  short  hymn  is  aptly  called  the  Te 
Deum  of  Germany.  It  has  in  it  more  history 
than  any  other,  unless,  perhaps,  we  except 
the  great  Ein'  Feste  Burg.  It  dates  far  back 
to  the  times  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War.  It 
was  written — "  Nun  danket  alle  Gott " — by 

9 


13° 


GOD  : — THE   FATHER. 


Martin  Rinkart,  somewhere  between  1644 
and  1648.  Miss  Catharine  Winkworth,  who 
gave  to  our  English  tongue  this  translation, 
fixes  the  earlier  year  in  her  Christian  Singers 
of  Gertnany.  Rev.  Martin  Rinkart  was  born 
at  Eilenburg,  April  23,  1 586,  and  died  there, 
December  8,  1649.  He  was  pastor  (later, 
archdeacon)  almost  all  his  life  in  his  native 
town.  The  chord  of  his  straight  career  sub- 
tended the  arc  of  that  tempestuous  period  in 
which  the  demons  of  battle  seemed  in  the  air 
over  all  the  continent  of  Europe.  In  siege 
and  pestilence  and  famine  this  brave  soldier 
of  God  and  of  his  native  land  came  repeated- 
ly to  the  front.  Men  called  him  familiarly 
"  The  Saviour  of  his  Country."  He  lives  in 
the  hymn  he  made  the  year  before  the  war 
ended.  The  sentiment  is  based  upon  the 
book  of  Ecclesiasticus,  written  by  Jesus,  the 
Son  of  Sirach,  and  now  included  in  the  Apoc- 
rypha. The  verses  (chapter  i  :  22-24) 
wrought  into  the  texture  of  the  poem  were 
chosen  for  his  text  by  the  chaplain  who 
preached  the  sermon  upon  that  historic  New 
Year's  Day,  1647,  when  a  great  thanksgiving 
ser\'ice  was  held  celebrating  the  establish- 
ment of  peace. 

286  Eternity.  P.  M. 

O  THOU  essential  Word, 

Who  wast  from  everlasting 
With  God,  for  thou  wast  God  ; 

On  thee  our  burden  casting, 
O  Saviour  of  our  race, 

Welcome  indeed  thou  art, 
Redeemer,  Fount  of  Grace, 

To  this  my  longing  heart. 

2  Come,  self-existent  Word, 

And  speak  thou  in  my  spirit ; 
The  soul  where  thou  art  heard 

Doth  endless  peace  inherit. 
Thou  Light  that  lightenest  all. 

Abide  through  faith  in  me. 
Nor  let  me  from  thee  fall. 

Nor  seek  a  guide  but  thee. 

Miss  Catharine  Winkworth's  translation, 
which  is  here  given,  is  found  in  Lyra  Ger- 
manica,  1855,  the  first  series.  The  German 
original,  "  Du  ivesentliches  Wort"  was  pub- 
lished by  its  author,  Laurentius  Laurenti,  in  a 
volume  of  one  hundred  and  forty-eight  poems, 
which  he  called  Evangelica  Melodia,  1700. 
It  was  composed  for  a  Christmas  Day  cele- 
bration, and  is  founded  upon  John  i  :  1-14. 
The  author  was  a  precentor,  and  was  em- 
ployed in  the  cathedral  at  Bremen.  He  was 
born  at  Husum,  in  Holstein,  June  8,  1660, 
and  died  at  Bremen,  May  29,  1722. 

287  Beneficence. 

To  thee.  O  God,  we  raise 
Our  voice  in  choral  singing ; 

We  come  with  prayer  and  praise. 
Our  hearts'  oblations  bringing  ; 


Thou  art  our  fathers'  God, 
And  ever  shalt  be  ours  ; 

Our  lips  and  lives  shall  laud 
Thy  name,  with  all  our  powers. 

2  Thy  goodness,  like  the  dew 
On  Hermon's  hill  descending, 

Is  every  morning  new, 
And  tells  of  love  unending. 

We  bless  thy  tender  care 
That  led  our  wayward  feet. 

Past  every  fatal  snare, 
To  streams  and  pastures  sweet. 

3  We  bless  thy  Son,  who  bore 
The  cross,  for  sinners  dying  ; 

Thy  Spirit  we  adore. 

The  precious  blood  applying. 
Let  work  and  worship  send 

Their  incense  unto  thee  ; 
Till  song  and  service  blend. 

Beside  the  crystal  sea. 


P.M. 


DR.    ARTHUR   TAPPAN  PIERSON. 

Rev.  Arthur  Tappan  Pierson,  D,  D.,  the 
author  of  this  hymn,  published  in  Hymns  and 
Songs  of  Praise,  1874,  was  born  in  the  city 
of  New  York,  March  6,  1837.  He  was  reg- 
ularly graduated  in  the  class  of  1857  at  Ham- 
ilton College.  He  came  into  professional  life 
as  the  pastor  of  the  Presbyterian  Church  in 
Binghamton,  N.  Y.,  where  he  began  his  pub- 
lic ministry  in  i860.  From  that  charge  he 
was  dismissed  to  take  the  pastorate  of  the 
Presbyterian  Church  in  Waterford,  N.  Y.  In 
1869  he  removed  to  Detroit,  Michigan,  and 
became  the  pastor  of  the  Fort  Street  Presby- 
terian Church.  There  occurred  the  incident 
which  he  has  himself  given  to  the  public  with 
a  welcome  frankness  ;  this  experience  changed 
his  life. 

"  In  January,  1876,  I  found  myself  pastor, 
already  for  seven  years,  of  a  large,  wealthy 
church  (in  Detroit),  with  one  of  the  finest  and 
most  elegant  church  buildings  in  the  whole 


ATTRIBUTES. 


131 


land  ;  with  everything  to  gratify  carnal  ambi- 
tion, worldly  ease,  and  desire  for  human  ap- 
plause. I  had  been  led  by  a  most  singular 
searching  of  heart  to  see  that  I  had  been 
more  or  less  making  an  idol  of  literary  cul- 
ture, intellectual  accomplishment,  and  world- 
ly position ;  and,  a  few  months  before,  I  had 
solemnly  renounced  all  these  things,  that  I 
might  be  a  holier  and  more  useful  man.  I 
saw  that  I  was  not  largely  blessed  as  a  winner 
of  souls. 

"  For  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  had  no 
conscious  idol  in  my  heart ;  but  for  the  first 
time  I  had  also  a  blessed  consciousness  of 
real  communion  with  God  in  prayer.  I  was 
especially  led  to  ask,  with  peculiar  impor- 
tunity, that  I  might  in  some  way  be  enabled 
to  reach  the  multitudes  of  unsaved  souls  who 
were  around  us,  but  outside  of  the  churches. 
The  clear  and  positive  conviction  absolutely 
possessed  me  that  this  prayer  had  been  in- 
spired of  God,  and  would  be  answered  in  a 
marked  way  that  would  show  the  hand  of 
God.  This  solemn  persuasion  was  com- 
municated to  my  wife,  but  to  her  alone ;  and 
we  joyfully  and  trustingly  waited  for  God's 
full  time  to  come  for  him  to  fulfill  this  desire 
and  prayer." 

The  result  of  this  experience  was  that  the 
congregation  were  almost  at  once  brought  to 
acquiesce  in  their  pastor's  purpose.  They 
began  to  open  the  edifice  free  for  a  series  of 
evening  services.  But  in  the  strange  provi- 
dence of  God,  the  building  took  hre  in  the 
midst  of  a  prayer-meeting  and  was  consumed. 
Still  the  same  serious  purpose  in  the  hearts 
of  the  people  reigned,  and  evangelical  work 
went  on.  That  organization  remains  to  this 
day  faithful  and  energetic  as  before. 

But  Dr.  Pierson  resigned  the  care  of  it, 
went  to  a  mission  congregation  in  Philadel- 
phia, the  Bethany  Presbyterian  Church,  where 
with  zeal  and  success  he  remained  some  years. 
At  last  he  left  the  office  of  a  fixed  pastor  al- 
together, became  an  evangelist,  a  missionary 
lecturer,  an  author  of  pamphlets  and  books, 
giving  himself  wholly  to  Gospel  work  wher- 
ever his  services  could  be  most  useful.  He 
is  now  (1892)  going  to  London  in  order 
to  become  the  minister  of  the  Metropolitan 
Tabernacle,  so  long  under  the  care  of  Rev. 
Charles  H.  Spurgeon.  It  is  singular  for  an 
American  Presbyterian  to  be  pastor  of  an 
English  Baptist  Church.  He  has  led  an 
unusual  life  in  these  late  years ;  but  he  is 
wonderfully  blessed  in  all  his  varied  labors, 
and  he  has  the  entire  and  affectionate  confi- 
dence of  those  who  most  intimately  know 
him. 


288  Divine  Providence.  L.  M. 

God  of  the  world  !  thy  glories  shine 
Through  earth  and  heaven  with  rays  divine  ; 
Thy  smile  gives  beauty  to  the  flower, 
Thine  anger  to  the  tempest  power. 

2  God  of  our  lives  !  the  throbbing  heart 
Doth  at  thy  beck  its  action  start ; 
Throbs  on,  obedient  to  thy  will, 

Or  ceases  at  thy  fatal  chill. 

3  God  of  eternal  life  !  thy  love 
Doth  every  stain  of  sin  remove  ; 

The  cross,  the  cross,  its  hallowed  light 
Shall  drive  from  earth  her  cheerless  night. 

4  God  of  all  goodness  !  to  the  skies 
Our  hearts  in  grateful  anthems  rise  ; 
And  to  thy  service  shall  be  given 
The  rest  of  life,  the  whole  of  heaven. 

Rev.  Dr.  Sewall  Sylvester  Cutting  was  born 
January  19,  181 3,  at  Windsor,  Vt.  While  he 
was  still  very  young  his  parents  removed 
across  Lake  Champlain  to  Westport,  N.  Y. 
The  lad  became  a  professing  Christian  in 
1827,  and  united  with  the  Baptist  church  in 
that  town.  Very  soon  after  this  he  began 
the  study  of  the  law,  but  turned  aside  from 
his  purpose  under  the  conviction  that  it  was 
his  duty  to  preach  the  Gospel  as  a  chosen 
vocation.  He  therefore  entered  Waterville 
College  for  the  higher  course  of  education, 
and  after  a  year  changed  his  class  for  one  in 
the  University  of  Vermont,  where  he  was 
graduated  in  1835.  His  public  ministry  com- 
menced as  the  pastor  of  the  Baptist  church 
at  West  Boylston,  Mass.,  March  31,  1836. 
Subsequent  to  this  he  spent  eight  of  his  best 
years  at  Southbridge,  and  then  left  pastoral 
work  for  the  editorial  chair.  He  was  on  the 
staff  of  The  Recorder,  the  M^atc/tman  and 
Reflector,  and  the  Christian  Rrcnew ;  after 
this  he  aided  in  establishing  The  Examiner. 
In  1855  he  was  appointed  to  the  chair  of 
Rhetoric  and  History  in  the  University  of 
Rochester,  and  he  remained  in  charge  of 
these  duties  until  1 868.  The  Baptist  Church 
now  made  demands  upon  this  distinguished 
man  for  denominational  services.  He  became 
the  Secretary  of  the  Educational  Commission, 
and  in  1876  the  Secretary  of  the  Baptist 
Home  Mission  Society ;  this  latter  office  he 
held  for  three  industrious  seasons,  and  then 
went  abroad  for  special  study.  At  the  table, 
January  16,  1882,  he  was  struck  with  paraly- 
sis, and  died  February  7,  after  a  long,  useful, 
and  honored  life  as  a  servant  of  God.  These 
particulars  are  given  in  his  biography.  We 
have  no  special  account  of  the  occasion  of 
his  writing  this  hymn,  but  its  subject  corn- 
mends  it  to  our  notice.  God  is  in  nature,  in 
science,  in  providence,  and  in  grace. 

It  has  been  said  that  the  operations  of  the 
spider  suggested  the   arts  of  spinning  and 


132 


god: — THE    FATHER. 


weaving  to  man.  That  may  be  doubtful,  but 
it  is  quite  certain  that  to  a  hint  from  an  insect 
was  due  the  invention  of  a  machine  instru- 
mental in  accomplishing  one  of  the  most  stu- 
pendous works  of  modern  times — the  excava- 
tion of  the  Thames  tunnel.  Mark  Isambard 
Brunei,  the  great  engineer,  was  standing  one 
day,  about  three-quarters  of  a  centur)-  ago,  in 
.1  shipyard,  watching  the  movements  of  an 
animal  known  as  the  Teredo  Navalis — in 
English,  the  naval  wood -worm — when  a 
brilliant  thought  suddenly  occurred  to  him. 
He  saw  that  this  creature  bored  its  way  into 
the  piece  of  wood  upon  which  it  was  operat- 
ing by  means  of  a  very  extraordinary  me- 
chanical apparatus.  Looking  at  the  animal 
attentively  through  a  microscope,  he  found 
that  it  was  covered  in  front  with  a  pair  of 
valvular  shells ;  that,  with  its  foot  as  a  pur- 
chase, it  communicated  a  rotary  motion  and 
a  forward  impulse  to  the  valves,  which,  act- 
ing upon  the  wood  like  a  gimlet,  penetrated 
its  substance ;  and  that,  as  the  particles  of 
wood  were  loosened,  they  passed  through  a 
fissure  in  the  foot,  and  thence  through  the 
body  of  the  borer  to  its  mouth,  where  they 
were  expelled.  "  Here,"  said  Brunei  to  him- 
self, "  is  the  sort  of  thing  I  want.  Can  I  pro- 
duce it  in  an  artificial  form .'"  He  forthwith 
set  to  work,  and  the  final  result  of  his  labors, 
after  many  failures,  was  the  famous  boring 
shield  with  which  the  Thames  tunnel  was 
excavated.  This  story  was  told  by  Brunei 
himself,  and  there  is  no  reason  to  doubt  its 
truth.  The  keen  obser\-er  can  draw  useful 
lessons  from  the  humblest  of  the  works  of 
God. 

289  The  Trinity.  L.  M. 

O  HOLY,  holy,  holy  Lord  ! 

Bright  in  thy  deeds  and  in  thy  name, 
For  ever  be  thy  name  adored, 

Thy  glories  let  the  world  proclaim  ! 

3  O  Jesus !  Lamb  once  crucified 

To  take  our  load  of  sins  away, 
Thine  be  the  hymn  that  rolls  it's  tide 

Along  the  realms  of  upper  day  ! 

3  O  Holy  Spirit  !  from  above. 

In  streams  of  light  and  glory  given. 
Thou  source  of  ecstacy  and  love. 
Thy  praises  ring  through  earth  and  heaven  ! 

4  O  God  Triune  !  to  thee  we  owe 
Our  every  thought,  our  every  song ; 

And  ever  may  thv  praises  flow 
From  saint  and  seraph's  burning  tongue. 

Rev.  James  Wallis  Eastburn,  to  whom  we 
owe  this  poem,  was  born  in  London,  Septem- 
ber 26,  1797,  but  his  family  removed  to  New 
York  in  1803,  where  he  was  educated  at  Co- 
lumbia College,  graduating  in  18 16.  Two 
years  later  he  was  ordained,  and  became  rec- 


tor of  an  Episcopal  church  at  Accomac,  \'ir- 
ginia,  but  his  labors  there  were  all  too  brief. 
His  failing  health  necessitated  a  southern 
voyage,  and  he  started  for  \'era  Cruz ;  but 
died  on  the  fourth  day  out,  December  2, 
1 81 9,  and  was  buried  at  sea.  He  was  a  bro- 
ther of  Dr.  Eastburn,  the  beloved  Bishop  of 
the  diocese  of  Massachusetts,  and  displayed 
marked  literary  ability.  With  his  assistance 
Robert  C.  Sands  began  the  composition  of 
Yatnoyden,  a  tale  of  the  wars  of  King  Philip, 
and  on  account  of  his  participation  in  the  ear- 
lier cantos  he  has  been  mcluded  by  Griswold 
among  the  list  of  American  poets.  In  spite 
of  the  brevity  of  his  life,  he  will  be  long  re- 
membered by  the  glowing  hymn  quoted  here, 
which  has  won  for  itself  a  permanent  place 
in  the  songs  of  the  church. 

290  Goodness.  L.  M. 

Triumphant  Lord,  thy  goodness  reigns 
Through  all  the  wide  celestial  plains  ; 
And  its  full  streams  unceasing  flow 
Down  to  the  abodes  of  men  below. 

2  Through  nature's  work  its  glories  shine  ; 
The  cares  of  providence  are  thine  ; 

And  grace  erects  our  ruined  frame 
A  fairer  temple  to  thy  name. 

3  Oh,  give  to  every  human  heart 

To  taste,  and  feel  how  good  thou  art ; 
With  grateful  love  and  reverent  fear, 
To  know  how  blest  thy  children  are. 

In  the  Hymns  of  Dr.  Philip  Doddridge  this 
appears  with  five  stanzas,  1755.  It  offers  us 
a  brilliant  vision  of  the  divine  character  when 
seen  in  nature  and  in  grace,  and  it  summons 
us  to  love  and  fear  in  the  same  breath. 

An  interesting  legend  is  published  in  the 
Indian  Mirror,  and  it  has  come  across  two 
oceans  as  an  illustration  of  the  text,  "  Behold 
the  goodness  and  severity  of  God."  It  reads 
thus:  "A  dispute  arose  among  the  sages  as 
to  which  of  the  three  gods  was  greatest ;  so 
they  applied  to  the  great  Bhrigu,  one  of  the 
ten  Maharshis,  or  primeval  patriarchs,  cre- 
ated by  the  first  Manu,  to  determine  the  point. 
He  undertook  to  put  all  three  gods  to  a  se- 
vere test,  and  went  first  to  Brahma,  on  ap- 
proaching whom  he  purposely  omitted  an 
obeisance.  Upon  this  the  god's  anger  blazed 
terribly  forth ;  but,  restraining  it,  he  was  at 
length  pacified.  Next  he  repaired  to  the 
abode  of  Siva,  in  Kailas,  and  omitted  to  re- 
turn the  god's  salutation.  The  vindictive 
deity  was  enraged,  his  eyes  flashed  fire,  and 
he  raised  his  trident  to  destroy  the  sage ;  but 
the  god's  wife,  Parvati,  fell  at'his  feet  and  by 
her  intercession  appeased  him.  Lastly,  he 
repaired  to  Vaikuntha,  the  heaven  of  ^'ishnu. 
whom  he  found  asleep,  with  his  head  on  his 


ATTRIBUTES. 


133 


consort  Lakshmi's  lap.  To  make  a  trial  of 
his  forbearance,  he  boldly  gave  the  god  a 
kick  on  his  breast,  which  awoke  him.  In- 
stead of  showing  anger,  however,  Vishnu 
arose,  and,  on  seeing  Bhrigu,  asked  his  par- 
don for  not  having  greeted  him  on  his  first 
arrival.  Next  he  expressed  himself  highly 
honored  by  the  sage's  blow  (which  he  de- 
clared had  imprinted  an  indelible  mark  of 
good  fortune  on  his  breast),  and  then  inquired 
tenderly  whether  his  foot  was  hurt,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  rub  it  gently.  "  This,"  said  Bhrigu, 
"  is  the  mightiest  god.  He  overpowers  by 
the  most  potent  of  all  the  weapons — gentle- 
ness and  generosity." 

29 1  God  our  Light.  L.  M. 

All  holy,  ever-living  One ! 

With  uncreated  splendor  bright ! 
Darkness  inay  blot  from  heaven  the  sun. 

Thou  art  my  everlasting  light. 

2  Let  every  star  withhold  its  ray  : 

Clouds  hide  the  earth  and  sky  from  sight ; 
Fearless  I  still  pursue  my  way 
Toward  thee,  my  everlastiiig  light. 

3  Thou  art  the  only  source  of  day  ; 
Forgetting  thee  alone  is  night ; 

All  things  for  which  we  hope  and  pray 
Flow  from  thine  everlastmg  light. 

4  Still  nearer  thee  my  soul  would  rise  ; 
Thus  she  attains  her  highest  flight, 

And,  as  the  eagle  sunward  flies. 
Seeks  thee,  her  everlasting  light. 

The  Rev.  Thomas  Hill,  D.  D..  LL.  D.,  the 
author  of  several  hundred  hymns — many  ori- 
ginal, others  translated  —  was  of  English  pa- 
rentage, but  born  at  New  Brunswick,  N.  J., 
January  7,  1818.  He  was  placed  in  an  apoth- 
ecary's shop,  but  left  it  at  the  age  of  twenty 
to  begin  the  study  of  Greek  and  Latin.  In 
1 843  he  graduated  at  Harvard  College,  and  at 
the  Cambridge  Divinity  School  in  1845.  He 
was  for  fourteen  years  the  pastor  of  the  Uni- 
tarian Church  in  Waltham,  Mass.,  which  he 
left  to  become  President  of  Antioch  College, 
Ohio,  in  1859.  The  success  of  Dr.  Hill  in 
this  position  was  so  great,  and  his  learning 
and  talents  so  eminently  adapted  to  such 
work,  that  at  the  close  of  the  Civil  War  he 
was  chosen  President  of  Harvard  College. 
He  retained  thisotfice  for  six  years.  In  1873 
he  became  pastor  of  the  "  First  Parish  in 
Portland,  Maine,"  and  died  in  1891. 

Dr.  Hill  was  not  only  a  theologian,  but  a 
scientific  man  as  well.  He  first  suggested 
the  idea  of  reporting  in  the  daily  papers  the 
weather  predictions  taken  from  the  telegraphic 
accounts.  He  is  also  said  to  have  invented 
an  instrument  for  the  mechanical  calculation 
of  eclipses  and  occultations  for  any  latitude 
and  longitude. 


292  The  Trinity.  L.  M. 

Blest  Trinity  !  from  mortal  sight 
Vailed  in  thine  own  eternal  light ! 
We  thee  confess,  in  thee  believe  ; 
To  thee  wiih  loving  hearts  we  cleave. 

2  O  Father  !  thou  most  holv  One  I 
O  God  of  God  I  Eternal  Son  ! 

O  Holy  Ghost  !  thou  Love  Divine  ! 
To  join  them  both  is  ever  thine. 

3  The  Father  is  in  God  the  Son, 
And  with  the  Father  he  is  one  ; 
In  both  the  Spirit  doth  abide, 
And  with  them  both  is  glorified. 

4  Eternal  Father  !  thee  we  praise  ; 
To  thee,  O  Son  !  our  hymns  we  raise  ; 
O  Holy  Ghost !  we  thee  adore  ! 

One  mighty  God  for  evermore. 

This  is  another  of  Rev.  Sir  Henry  Wil- 
liams Baker's  translations  found  in  Hymns, 
Ancient  and  Modern,  1861.  It  is  an  easy 
and  felicitous  rendering  of  the  "O  luce  qucE 
tua  lates,"  so  well  known  in  the  Paris  Bre- 
viary. It  affords  a  singularly  interesting 
example  of  the  way  in  which  natural  science 
sometimes  unconsciously  parallels  the  deep- 
est mysteries  of  spiritual  revelation,  and  after- 
ward appears  almost  to  explain  them. 

Just  now  my  eye  has  been  caught  by  a 
quotation  from  Gregory  Nazianzen,  which  is 
floating  around  in  the  religious  newspapers : 
"  When  I  endeavor  to  contemplate  the  One 
Eternal  Glory,  it  resolves  into  Three ;  when 
I  would  gaze  upon  the  Three,  they  blend  into 
One."  These  words  have  arrested  my  mind 
the  more,  I  presume,  because  of  a  most  inter- 
esting experiment  which  it  was  my  fortune 
lately  to  witness,  and  I  cannot  quite  forget 
the  amusing  bewilderment  into  which  my 
mind  was  thrown.  We  were  all  told,  years 
ago,  that  if  the  three  primarj'^  colors  in  the 
spectrum  were  mingled  into  one  in  proper 
proportion  they  would  form  a  perfect  white ; 
and  it  is  likely  we  believed  it.  But  a  some- 
what perverse  mood  seized  my  imagination, 
and  I  found  myself  insisting  that  even  yellow 
was  darker  than  white,  and  red  (and  of  course 
blue)  would  only  darken  yellow  down ;  what 
would  be  the  result  I  could  not  say,  but  it  did 
appear  most  unphilosophical  to  state  that  three 
paints  of  three  hues  or  three  liquids,  blue  and 
red  and  yellow,  would  make  plain  white. 

The  optician  put  before  us  a  broad  disk  of 
thin  metal  on  which  he  had  painted  segments 
of  color  in  due  measure,  the  proportion  of 
surface  running  from  circumference  to  center, 
and  ending  at  the  axis  in  a  point.  This  he 
placed  in  a  holder  geared  with  wheels  and 
began  to  whirl  rapidly  around  ;  to  my  simple 
amazement  the  three  colors  disappeared,  and 
the  metal  shone  like  a  silver  shield ;  it  was  a 
most  brilliant  white.     I  went  up  close  along- 


134 


GOD  : — THE   FATHER. 


side  to  watch  the  process  of  change ;  at  my 
suggestion  he  patiently  turned  the  crank  with 
more  or  less  briskness  while  I  kept  my  eyes 
fixed  eagerly  on  the  disk.  The  whiteness 
came  .and  went,  the  colors  appeared  and  dis- 
appeared, till  my  mind  was  bewildered  ;  now 
it  was  three,  now  they  were  one.  And  while 
I  continually  saw  the  changes  arrive  and  van- 
ish, the  lecturer  quietly  went  on  to  say  that 
the  red  gives  off  all  the  heat  in  the  ordinary 
ray  of  the  sun,  the  yellow  spreads  all  the 
illumination,  and  the  blue  effects  in  living  or- 
ganisms the  chemical  changes  needed  for 
prosperous  existence.  He  mentioned  that 
we  read  by  the  yellow  ray,  but  we  should 
shiver  without  the  red,  and  all  of  us  would 
wither  without  the  blue.  The  colors  were 
necessary,  one  by  one,  and  the  beautiful  sun- 
light was  necessary  as  a  whole. 

And  all  the  time  he  was  talking,  there  I  sat 
looking  at  that  mysterious  wheel  of  metal ; 
and  I  soberly  declare  that  if  I  had  had  the 
quotation  of  old  St.  Gregor)^  by  me,  I  would 
in  that  most  scientific  presence  have  asked 
leave  to  say  :  "  When  I  endeavor  to  contem- 
plate the  one  glory  of  this  sunbeam  of  white- 
ness from  the  disk,  it  resolves  into  three ; 
when  I  would  gaze  upon  the  three,  they  blend 
into  one." 

293  Psalm  93.  L.  M. 

Jkhovah  reigns  :  his  throne  is  high  ; 
His  robes  are  light  and  majesty  ; 
His  glory  shines  with  beams  so  bright, 
No  mortal  can  sustain  the  sight. 

2  His  terrors  keep  the  world  in  awe  ; 
His  justice  guards  his  holy  law  ; 

Yet  love  reveals  a  smiling  face. 

And  truth  and  promise  seal  the  grace. 

3  And  will  this  glorious  Lord  descend 
To  be  my  Father  and  my  Friend  ? 
Then  let  my  songs  with  angels'  join  ; 
Heaven  is  secure,  if  God  be  mine. 

When  a  devout  soul  really  desires  to  sing 
forth  his  confidence  in  the  supreme  power 
which  rules  and  guards  his  life,  he  surely 
ought  to  be  satisfied  with  such  strains  as 
these.  Dr.  Watts  has  entitled  his  hymn 
"  The  Divine  Perfections,"  and  it  is  found  in 
his  Book  II.,  No.  168.  There  is  joy  in  heaven 
when  one  atheist  learns  in  his  soul  that  God 
is.  M.  Hegard.  Professor  of  Philosophy  in 
the  University  of  Copenhagen,  has  until  re- 
cently been  the  apostle  of  atheism  in  his 
country.  He  has  just  published  a  second 
edition  of  one  of  his  works,  and  this  is  what 
he  says  in  the  introduction  :  "  The  experiences 
of  life,  its  sufferings  and  griefs,  have  shaken 
my  soul,  and  have  broken  the  foundation 
upon  which  I  formerly  thought  I  could  build. 
Full  of  faith  in  the  sufficiency  of  science,  I 


thought  to  have  found  in  it  a  sure  refuge  from 
all  the  contingencies  of  life.  The  illusion  is 
vanished ;  when  the  tempest  came  which 
plunged  me  in  sorrow,  the  moorings,  the 
cable  of  science,  broke  like  thread.  Then  I 
seized  upon  that  help  which  many  before  me 
have  laid  hold  of.  I  sought  and  found  peace 
/;/  God.  Since  then  I  have  certainly  not 
abandoned  science,  but  I  have  assigned  to  it 
another  place  in  my  life." 


294 


Holiness. 


8s,  7S,  D. 


Lord,  thy  glorj-  fills  the  heaven  ; 

Earth  is  with  its  fullness  stored  ; 
Unto  thee  be  glory  given, 

Holy,  holy,  holy  Lord  ! 
Heaven  is  still  with  anthems  ringing ; 

Earth  takes  up  the  angels'  cry. 
Holy,  holy,  holy,  singing, 

Lord  of  hosts,  thou  Lord  most  high. 

2  Ever  thus  in  God's  high  praises, 
Brethren,  let  our  tongues  unite, 

While  our  thoughts  his  greatness  raises, 

And  our  love  his  gifts  excite  : 
With  his  seraph  train  before  him, 

With  his  holy  church  below. 
Thus  unite  we  to  adore  him, 

Bid  we  thus  our  anthem  flow. 

3  Lord,  thy  glory  fills  the  heaven  ; 
Earth  is  with  its  fidlness  stored  ; 

Unto  thee  be  glorj-  given, 

Holy,  holy,  holy  Lord  ! 
Thus  thy  glorious  name  confessing. 

We  adopt  the  angels'  cry, 
Holy,  holy,  holy,  blessing 

Thee,  the  Lord  our  God  most  high  ! 

This  is  No.  100  of  Bishop  Richard  Mant's 
Ancient  Hytnns,  page  216,  1837.  It  com- 
mences there,  "  Bright  the  vision  that  de- 
lighted," and  is  entitled,  "  Hymn  commem- 
orative of  the  Thrice-Holy."  In  illustration 
of  the  sentiment  here,  it  is  worth  while  to  ad- 
duce the  following,  related  by  a  correspond- 
ent of  one  of  the  religious  newspapers,  and 
offering  evidence  from  a  new  direction. 
"  Some  thirty  years  ago  I  had  a  son  at  Har- 
vard, who  attended  Prof.  Agassiz's  lectures 
and  took  pretty  full  notes.  On  reading  these 
notes  I  was  impressed  with  the  reverential 
allusions  of  the  great  naturalist  to  the  Creator. 
I  have  before  me  a  slip  which  I  think  I  copied 
from  one  of  the  pages  of  my  son's  note- 
book, where,  in  treating  of  the  different  or- 
ders of  animal  life,  the  professor  is  repre- 
sented to  have  said  :  '  Have  we  not  here  the 
manifestations  of  a  mind  as  powerful  as  pro- 
lific ?  the  acts  of  an  intelligence  as  sublime 
as  provident  ?  the  marks  of  goodness  as  infi- 
nite as  wise  ?  the  most  palpable  demonstra- 
tion of  the  existence  of  a  personal  God,  au- 
thor of  all  things,  ruler  of  the  universe,  and 
dispenser  of  all  good  }  This,  at  least,  is  what 
I  read  in  the  works  of  creation.'  " 


ATTRIBUTES. 


135 


295  Grace.  8s,  7s,  D. 

Lord,  with  glowing  heart  I  'd  praise  thee 

For  the  bliss  thy  love  bestows ; 
For  tlie  pardoning  grace  that  saves  me, 

And  the  peace  that  from  it  flows  : 
Help,  O  God,  my  weak  endeavor  ; 

This  dull  soul  to  rapture  raise ; 
Thou  must  light  the  flame,  or  never 

Can  my  soul  be  warmed  to  praise. 

2  Praise,  my  soul,  the  God  that  sought  thee. 
Wretched  wanderer,  far  astray  ; 

Found  thee  lost,  and  kindly  brought  thee 
From  the  paths  of  death  away  ; 

Praise,  with  love's  devoutest  feeling, 
Him  who  saw  thy  guilt-born  fear. 

And,  the  light  of  liope  revealing. 

Bade  the  blood-stained  cross  appear. 

3  Lord,  this  bosom's  ardent  feeling 
Vainly  would  my  lips  express  : 

Low  before  thy  footstool  kneeling, 
Deign  thy  suppliant's  prayer  to  bless  ; 

Let  thy  grace,  my  soul's  chief  treasure, 
Love's  pure  flame  within  me  raise  ; 

And,  since  words  can  never  measure. 
Let  my  life  show  forth  thy  praise. 

The  author  of  this  hymn,  Francis  Scott 
Key,  was  born  in  Frederick  County,  Mary- 
land, August  I,  1779,  and  educated  at  St. 
John's  College,  Annapolis.  He  became  a 
lawyer  in  the  city  of  Washington,  and  was 
for  many  years  before  his  death  United  States 
District  Attorney.  Although  he  has  written 
many  poems  he  is  most  widely  known  as  the 
author  of  the  "  Star  Spangled  Banner,"  which 
he  composed  in  18 14.  He  was  a  devout  and 
earnest  man,  and  some  of  his  hymns  are  in 
use  in  churches  of  many  different  denomina- 
tions, the  one  here  given  being  among  the 
most  popular.  He  died  in  Washington,  Jan- 
uary II,  1843.  This  hymn  was  first  pub- 
lished in  Dr.  Muhlenberg's  Church  Poetry, 
1823. 

296  God's  Welcome.  8s,  7s,  D. 

There's  a  wideness  in  God's  mercy 

Like  the  wideness  of  the  sea  ; 
There  's  a  kindness  in  his  justice 

Which  is  more  than  liberty. 
There  is  welcome  for  the  sinner. 

And  more  graces  for  the  good  ; 
There  is  mercy  with  the  Saviour; 

There  is  healing  in  his  blood. 

2  There  is  no  place  where  earth's  sorrows 
;                   Are  more  felt  than  up  in  heaven  ; 

There  is  no  place  where  earth's  failings 
Have  such  kindly  judgment  given. 

There  is  plentiful  redemption 
In  the  blood  that  has  been  shed  ; 

There  is  joy  for  all  the  members 
In  the  sorrows  of  the  Head. 

3  For  the  love  of  God  is  broader 
Than  the  measure  of  man's  mind  ; 

And  the  heart  of  the  Eternal 

Is  most  wonderfully  kind. 
If  our  love  were  but  more  simple. 

We  should  take  him  at  his  word  ; 
And  our  lives  would  be  all  sunshine 

In  the  sweetness  of  our  Lord. 

The  poem  of  Rev.  Frederick  William  Fa- 
ber,  D.  D.  (an  English  priest  of  the  Roman 


F.  W.  FABER,  D.  D. 

Catholic  Church),  from  which  this  hymn  is 
taken,  consists  of  thirteen  stanzas,  and  is  en- 
titled "  Come  to  Jesus."  Indeed,  Rev.  New- 
man Hall's  tract  with  the  familiar  heading 
would  make  fitting  comment  on  this  marvel- 
ous song  characterized  by  so  much  spiritual 
intelligence  and  evangelical  faith.  The  force 
of  the  poetry  turns  upon  the  idea  of  the  Cre- 
ator of  the  universe  which  it  suggests.  How 
do  men  obtain  the  notion  of  God  by  which 
their  whole  system  of  theology  is  moulded  ? 

"  An  Ethiop's  god  hath  Ethiop's  lips,  black  cheek,  and 
woolly  hair  ; 
But  the  (irecian  god  hath  a  Grecian  face,  as  keen- 
eyed  and  as  fair." 

We  must  remember  that  the  Bible  teaches 
us  to  reverse  the  usual  process  by  which  un- 
regenerate  men  seek  to  reach  the  idea  of  the 
Supreme  Being.  The  so-called  philosophers 
and  "  advanced  thinkers  "  of  this  world  are 
wont  to  construct  their  own  deities.  They 
project  the  attributes  of  their  common  nature 
into  infinity,  and  then  group  them  together, 
calling  them  Jove  or  Jehovah  as  it  pleases 
themselves.  That  is  to  say,  they  conceive 
power,  which  in  a  measure  human  beings 
possess,  to  become  unlimited;  that  makes 
omnipotence.  Then  they  conceive  wisdom, 
which  sages  exhibit,  to  advance  into  omni- 
science. So  they  gather  the  qualities  of  the 
supremely  best  human  nature,  augment  them 
and  refine  them  and  exalt  them  until  they 
may  suddenly  be  hurried  into  personality — 
and  the  personage  is  God.      Unfortunately, 


136 


GOD  : — THE    FATHER. 


the  result  of  this  process  is  unequal  to  the 
need  of  one's  soul,  because  it  is  the  simple 
creation  of  one's  soul ;  the  fountain  cannot 
rise  higher  than  the  spring.  A  conception 
thus  originated  partakes  of  the  entire  man 
♦hat  starts  it,  and  so  universally  the  produc- 
,  ^on  will  varj'  as  the  men  do. 

297  "  Herein  is  Love."  C  M. 

Mv  God,  how  wonderful  thou  art, 

Thy  majesty  how  bright  ! 
How  glorious  is  thy  mercy-seat, 

In  depths  of  burning  light ! 

2  How  dread  are  thine  eternal  years, 
O  everlasting  Lord ! 

By  prostrate  spirits  day  and  night 
Incessantly  adored. 

3  Oh,  how  I  fear  thee,  living  God, 
With  deepest,  tenderest  fears. 

And  worship  thee  with  trembling  hope 
And  penitential  tears  ! 

4  Vet  I  may  love  thee  too.O  Lord, 
Almighty  as  thou  art, 

For  thou  hast  stooped  to  ask  of  me 
The  love  of  my  poor  heart. 

5  No  earthly  father  loves  like  thee, 
No  mother  half  so  mild 

Bears  and  forbears,  as  thou  hast  done 
With  me,  thy  sinful  child. 

6  My  God,  how  wonderful  thou  art, 
Thou  everlasting  Friend  ! 

On  thee  I  stay  my  trusting  heart 
Till  faith  in  vision  end. 

Rev.  Frederick  William  Faber,  D.  D.,  wrote 
a  poem  of  nine  stanzas,  from  which  this 
hymn  is  taken.  He  entitled  the  piece,  "  Our 
Heavenly  Father." 

It  is  vitally  necessary  to  the  success  of  any 
system  of  belief  that  men  shall  understand 
the  character  of  the  God  who  demands  wor- 
ship and  service  under  it.  Man  is  a  devo- 
tional being,  and  he  will  certainly  clamor  for 
some  religion  with  all  the  wistful  voices  of 
his  entire  nature.  What  that  religion  will  be 
depends  upon  one  primary  conception  in  his 
mind — namely,  the  idea  he  has  of  the  supreme 
Jove  or  Jehovah  at  the  center  and  head  of  it. 
This  it  is  which  gives  form  to  all  his  reason- 
ings, as  well  as  a  reason  for  all  his  forms. 
Let  a  nation  be  instructed  to  think  of  God  as 
a  deity  of  war,  and  little  by  little  their  wor- 
ship is  sure  to  become  martial,  and  the  feel- 
ings of  their  hearts  military.  Battle-songs 
will  be  the  anthems  on  the  holy-days,  cries 
for  vengeful  success  will  be  the  prayers,  and 
heroic  soldiers  will  figure  as  demi-gods.  Not 
unlikely  human  victims  will  smoke  upon  the 
altars,  and  bloody  trophies  will  be  hung  upon 
the  walls  of  the  temples.  Men  always  be- 
come like  that  which  they  willingly  worship. 
This  one  idea  of  God  controls  the  entire  race, 
giving  shape  to  every  form  of  development. 


"  Think  of  Buddha,"  say  the  Chinese 
priests,  "  and  you  will  grow  to  resemble  Budr 
dha."  So  they  picture  heaven  as  consisting 
of  a  series  of  tremendous  periods  of  time,  di- 
vided according  to  the  portions  of  Buddha's 
person.  So  many  years  are  to  be  passed  in 
thinking  of  Buddha's  feet ;  so  many  years  in 
thinking  of  Buddha's  knees  ;  so  many  years 
in  thinking  of  Buddha's  waist,  and  of  his 
shoulders,  and  of  his  chin,  and  so  on.  Their 
idea  of  God  fashions  the  whole  religion  they 
cherish  and  the  devotional  life  they  live. 

298  Psalm  90.  CM.  D. 

Oi'R  God,  our  help  in  ages  past, 

Our  hope  for  years  to  come. 
Our  shelter  from  the  stormy  blast. 

And  our  eternal  home ! 
Under  the  shadow  of  thy  throne 

Thy  saints  have  dwelt  secure  ; 
Sufficient  is  thine  arm  alone, 

And  our  defence  is  sure. 

2  Before  the  hillp  in  order  stood, 
Or  earth  received  her  frame, 

From  everlasting  thou  art  God, 

To  endless  years  the  same. 
A  thousand  ages,  in  thy  sight. 

Are  like  an  evening  gone  ; 
Short  as  the  watch  that  ends  the  night, 

Before  the  rising  sun. 

3  Time,  like  an  ever-rolling  stream, 
Bears  all  its  sons  away  ; 

They  fly,  forgotten,  as  a  dream 

Dies  at  the  opening  day. 
Our  God,  our  help  in  ages  past. 

Our  hope  for  years  to  come. 
Be  thou  our  guard  while  troubles  last, 

And  our  eternal  home. 

This  is  Dr.  Watts'  version  of  Psalm  90, 
First  Part,  C.  M.  It  consists  of  nine  stanzas, 
and  is  entitled :  "  Man  frail,  and  God  eter- 
nal." 

That  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  later  life  was 
marked  by  weakness  and  pain  is  shown  by  a 
letter  addressed  by  him  to  President  Wil- 
liams, of  Yale,  and  just  discovered  and 
printed  in  Boston.  "  You  ask  my  age,  sir," 
writes  the  good  doctor.  '*  'T  is  a  wonder  I 
can  do  anything  after  three-score  years  of 
life,  whereof  ten  or  twelve  have  been  wasted 
in  various  illnesses,  chiefiy  of  ye  nenous  kind. 
Nor  have  I  been  able  to  preach  one  hour 
these  twenty-six  years ;  nor  can  I  study 
above  an  hour  or  hour  and  a  half  at  a  time 
without  release ;  so  that  all  that  I  can  do  is 
by  short  snatches  of  easy  and  severe  seasons ; 
so  that  you  will  readily  say,  'T  is  time  for  me 
to  have  done  with  philosophy." 


299  Our  Shepherd.— Psa.  23. 

Mv  Shepherd  will  supply  my  need, 

Jehovah  is  his  name  ; 
In  pastures  fresh  he  makes  me  feed 

Beside  the  living  stream. 


C.  M.  D. 


ATTRIBUTES. 


137 


He  brings  my  wandering  spirit  back, 

When  1  forsake  his  ways  ; 
And  leads  me,  for  his  mercy's  sake, 

In  paths  of  truth  and  grace. 

2  When  I  walk  through  the  shades  of  death, 
Thy  presence  is  my  stay  ; 

A  word  of  thy  supporting  breath 

Drives  all  my  fears  away. 
Thy  hand,  in  sight  of  all  my  foes, 

Doth  still  my  table  spread  ; 
My  cup  with  blessings  overflows, 

Thine  oil  anoints  my  head. 

3  The  sure  provisions  of  my  God 
Attend  me  all  my  days  ; 

Oh,  may  thy  house  be  mine  abode. 

And  all  niy  works  be  praise  : 
There  would  I  find  a  settled  rest, 

Wliile  others  go  and  come — 
No  more  a  stranger,  or  a  guest. 

But  like  a  child  at  home. 

This  will  be  recognized  as  Dr.  Isaac  Watts' 
version  of  Psalm  23,  C.  M.  It  is  preserved 
without  change,  and  indeed  it  seems  almost 
perfect  as  a  translation  and  a  lyric  poem.  It 
must  have  been  a  favorite  meditation  in  his 
own  experience.  His  biographer  says  that 
he  beheld  his  approaching  dissolution  with  a 
mind  perfectly  composed,  without  the  least 
dismay  or  shadow  of  doubt  as  to  his  future 
eternal  happiness.  He  said  to  a  friend  that 
he  remembered  an  aged  minister  once  saying 
that  the  most  learned  and  knowing  Chris- 
tians, when  they  come  to  die,  have  only  the 
same  plain  promises  of  the  Gospel  for  their 
support  as  the  common  and  unlearned  of  the 
people  of  God ;  "  and  so,"  said  he,  "  I  find  it. 
They  are  the  plain  promises  of  the  Gospel 
which  are  my  support,  and  I  bless  God  that 
they  are  plain  promises  which  do  not  require 
labor  or  pains  to  understand  them ;  for  I  can 
d6  nothing  now  but  look  into  my  Bible  for 
some  promise  to  support  me.  and  live  upon 
that."  At  another  time  he  said,  "  I  should 
be  glad  to  read  more,  yet  not  in  order  to  be 
more  confirmed  in  the  truth  of  the  Christian 
religion,  or  in  the  truth  of  its  promises,  for  I 
believe  them  enough  to  venture  an  eternity 
upon  them."  Such  an  unfaltering  trust 
makes  us  quote  the  lines  afresh : 

"When  I  walk  through  the  shades  of  death. 
Thy  presence  is  my  stay  ; 
A  word  of  thy  supporting  breath 
Drives  all  my  fears  away." 

300  Our  Father.— Psa.  zi.  C.  M.  D. 

Mv  God,  my  Father!— blissful  name! 

Oh,  may  I  call  thee  mine? 
May  I,  with  sweet  assurance,  claim 

A  portion  so  divine  ? 
This  only  c«n  my  fears  control. 

And  bid  my  sorrows  fly  ! 
What  harm  can  ever  reach  my  soul 

Beneath  my  Father's  eye  ? 

3  Whate'er  thy  providence  denies, 

I  calmly  would  resign  ; 
For  thou  art  just,  and  good,  and  wise  ; 

Oh,  bend  my  will  to  thine. 


Whate'er  thy  sacred  will  ordains. 

Oh,  give  me  strength  to  bear ; 
And  let  me  know  my  Father  reigns. 

And  trust  his  tender  care. 

3  If  pain  and  sickness  rend  this  frame. 

And  life  almost  depart. 
Is  not  thy  mercy  still  the  same 

To  cheer  my  drooping  heart  ? 
My  God,  my  Father  !  be  thy  name 

My  solace  and  my  stay  ; 
Oh,  wilt  thou  seal  my  humble  claim, 

AJid  drive  my  fears  away? 

This  hymn,  like  the  rest  of  Miss  Anne 
Steele's  compositions,  comes  from  Poems  by 
Theodosia,  published  in  1760.  It  has  eight 
stanzas,  and  is  entitled  "  Humble  Reliance." 
It  is  wonderful  to  reflect  upon  the  relations  in 
which  the  Almighty  and  Everlasting  God 
represents  himself  as  coming  near  to  a  hu- 
man soul.  "  Thou  art  near,  O  Lord."  The 
highest  and  the  closest  companionship  is 
found  in  his  Fatherhood. 


301 


Eternal  Love. 


H.  M. 


Oh,  for  a  shout  of  joy 

Worthy  the  theme  we  sing ; 
To  this  divine  employ 
Our  hearts  and  voices  bring  : 
Sound,  sound  through  all  the  earth  abroad 
The  love,  the  eternal  love  of  God. 

2  Unnumbered  myriads  stand. 
Of  seraphs  brisrht  and  fair. 

Or  bow  at  thy  right  hand. 
And  pay  their  homage  there; 
But  strive  in  vain  with  loudest  chord 
To  sound  thy  wondrous  love,  O  Lord. 

3  Yet  sinners  saved  by  gn^ce. 
In  songs  of  lower  key. 

In  every  age  and  place. 
Have  sung  the  mystery — 
Have  told  in  strains  of  sweet  accord. 
Thy  love,  thy  sovereign  love,  O  Lord. 

4  Though  earth  and  hell  assail. 
And  doubts  and  fears  arise. 

The  weakest  shall  prevail. 
And  grasp  the  heavenly  prize. 
And  through  an  endless  age  record 
Thy  love,  thy  changeless  love,  O  Lord. 

Two  very  spirited  songs  for  public  worship 
were  included  in  the  American  collection 
called  the  Baptist  Church  Psalmist,  both 
bearing  the  name  of  "  J.  Young."  Of  these 
this  is  the  best.  But  of  the  author  no  partic- 
ulars can  be  now  ascertained,  although  that 
well-known  Hymnal  was  published  as  late  as 
1843.  The  hymn  celebrates  the  love  of  God, 
eternal,  changeless,  but  wondrous  and  myste- 
riously sovereign.  It  is  almost  mystic  in  its 
spirit,  and  it  is  so  skillfully  constructed  that, 
even  while  it  treats  of  the  most  awful  of  all 
doctrines,  it  offers  to  each  devout  heart  the 
notion  of  our  Maker  in  his  kindliest  aspect 
as  the  object  of  our  praise. 

At  the  head  of  one  of  the  chapters  of  Dan- 
iel Deronda  stands  this  motto  :  "  The  begin- 
ning of  an  acquaintance,  whether  with  per- 


GOD  -.—THE   FATHER. 


sons  or  things,  is  to  get  a  definite  outline  for 
our  ignorance."  It  is  better  tliat  we  spend 
our  efforts  in  using  what  we  already  under- 
stand of  the  Almighty  Being  who  made  us, 
rather  than  in  exhausting  ourselves  with  cu- 
rious inquiries  after  his  mysteries.  The  cel- 
ebrated surgeon  Morgagni  once  let  fall  his 
scalpel  in  the  midst  of  a  dissection,  and  ex- 
claimed, "  Oh,  that  I  could  simply  love  God 
as  well  as  1  know  him !" 

302  God's  Truth.  H.  M. 

The  promises  I  sing 

Which  sovereign  love  hath  spoke; 
Nor  will  the  Eternal  King 
His  words  of  grace  revoke  ; 
They  stand  secure  and  steadfast  still ; 
Not  Zion's  hill  abides  so  sure. 

2  The  mountains  melt  away 
When  once  the  Judge  appears, 

And  sun  and  moon  decay, 
That  measure  mortal  years  ; 
But  still  the  same,  in  radiant  lines 
The  promise  shines  through  all  the  flame. 

3  Their  harmony  shall  sound 
Through  my  attentive  ears, 

When  thunders  cleave  the  ground 
And  dissipate  the  spheres  ; 
Midst  all  the  shock  of  that  dread  scene, 
I  stand  serene,  thy  word  my  rock. 

This  is  No.  316  of  Dr.  Philip  Doddridge's 
Hymns,  1755,  and  is  entitled  "  God's  Fidelity 
to  his  Promises."  It  consists  of  three  stanzas 
only,  and  annexed  to  it  is  the  text,  Hebrews 
10  :  23  :  "  He  is  faithful  that  promised." 

There  is,  so  scientific  people  tell  us,  one 
point,  even  in  a  whirling  wheel,  which  is  at 
rest.  One  line  of  atoms  at  the  axis,  around 
which  all  the  others  revolve,  is  still.  When 
we  conceive  of  providence,  intricate  and  con- 
fused as  it  is,  well  typed  by  the  prophet  as  "a 
wheel  in  the  middle  of  a  wheel,"  we  are  always 
to  remember  that  God  himself  is  sitting  un- 
moved at  the  center  of  the  universe,  the  Fa- 
ther of  lights,  from  whom  cometh  down  every 
good  and  every  perfect  gift,  and  with  whom 
there  is  no  variableness,  neither  shadow  of 
turning.  And  there  is  relief  and  comfort  in 
this. 

Shocked  and  shifted  as  we  are  in  this  life, 
our  minds  become  impressed  with  a  sense  of 
insecurity.  We  are  agitated  with  a  thousand 
disquiets.  No  lot  in  the  world  is  safe.  Af- 
fairs fluctuate.  Individual  experience  flits  and 
plays  with  the  phases  of  the  moon.  Institu- 
tions are  not  fixed.  Even  the  perpetual  hills 
do  bow,  and  the  eternal  seas  do  change  their 
bounds.  Stability  seems  but  an  empty  fiction 
or  a  dream.  Versatilities  mock  our  expecta- 
tion ;  vicissitude  is  the  rule  of  earthly  exist- 
ence. 

Over  all  sits  God  calmly.  His  throne  never 
moves.     His  eye  never  sleeps.     His  patience 


never  wearies.  He  wills  and  waits  at  his  own 
pleasure.  We  look  up  and  find  him  watch- 
ing ;  we  know  where  to  find  him  always. 
And  the  beauty  and  glory  and  welcome  of  this 
thought  is  centered  in  upon  the  one  revela- 
tion that  the  God  whom  we  see  is  the  Saviour 
whom  we  love :  "Jesus  Christ,  the  same  yes- 
terday, and  to-day,  and  for  ever." 

303  Sovereignty.  H.  M. 

To  him  that  chose  us  first. 

Before  the  world  began  ; 

To  him  that  bore  the  curse 

To  save  rebellious  man  ; 

To  him  that  formed  our  hearts  anew. 

Is  endless  praise  and  glory  due. 

2  The  Father's  love  shall  run 
Through  our  immortal  songs ; 

We  bring  to  God  the  Son 
Hosannas  on  our  tongues ; 
Our  lips  address  the  Spirit's  name 
With  equal  praise  and  zeal  the  same. 

3  Let  every  saint  above, 

And  angel  round  the  throne. 
For  ever  bless  and  love 

The  sacred  Three  in  One  ; 
Thus  heaven  shall  raise  his  honors  high. 
When  earth  and  time  grow  old  and  die. 

Just  at  the  close  of  his  Hymns,  constituting 
a  little  group  of  praises  to  the  Trinity,  Dr. 
Isaac  Watts  has  added  several  brief  poems  of 
great  lyric  strength  and  beauty.  He  refers 
this  one  among  them  to  Psalm  148  as  its  sug- 
gestion. It  celebrates  the  wonderful  sover- 
eignty of  divine  love.  "  In  this  was  manifest- 
ed the  love  of  God  toward  us.  because  that 
God  sent  his  only-begotten  Son  into  the  world, 
that  we  might  live  through  him.  Herein  is 
love,  not  that  we  loved  God,  but  that  he  loved 
us,  and  sent  his  Son  to  be  the  propitiation  for 
our  sins."  And  all  our  love  simply  grows  out 
of  his  :  "  We  love  him  because  he  first  loved 
us."  But  why  did  he  first  love  us  ?  There 
was  nothing  in  fallen  man  to  attract  admira- 
tion. We  love  what  is  lovely ;  we  believe 
God  does  the  same.  But  we  are  all  in  ruins. 
Jonathan  loved  David  because  he  was  so  brave 
and  noble  as  he  told  about  Goliath.  Nor 
was  this  love  of  God  drawn  out  towards  men 
by  any  reason  of  promise  for  the  future. 
Pharaoh's  daughter  heard  the  cry  of  a  babe 
in  the  bulrushes ;  she  whispered  contemptu- 
ously of  it,  "  It  is  only  one  of  the  Hebrews' 
children  !"  But  when  the  attendant  stooped 
down  to  pick  it  up,  she  saw  it  was  "  a  goodly 
child,"  and  something  might  be  made  of  it  if 
only  she  would  give  it  a  little  fairer  chance. 
But  we  never  had  any  hope  of  betterment  by 
ourselves.  Nor  even  was  this  divine  love 
drawn  out  towards  us  by  any  affection  that 
we  still  retained  for  him.  He  knows  how  we 
naturally  feel  towards    him.      "  The  carnal 


ATTRIBUTES. 


139 


mind  is  enmity  against  God."  The  love  we 
live  upon  is  the  sovereign,  unconstrained  gift 
of  God.  "  For  when  we  were  yet  without 
strength,  in  due  time  Christ  died'  for  the  un- 
godly. For  scarcely  for  a  righteous  man  will 
one  die :  yet  peradventur'e  for  a  good  man 
some  would  even  dare  to  die.  Bui  God  com- 
mendeth  his  love  towards  us,  in  that,  while 
we  were  yet  sinners,  Christ  died  for  us." 

304  The  Trinity.  H.  M. 

VVk  give  immortal  praise 

For  God  the  Father's  love, 
For  all  our  comforts  here, 

And  better  hopes  above  : 
He  sent  his  own  eternal  Son 
To  die  for  sins  that  we  had  done. 

2  To  God  the  Son  belongs 
Immortal  glory  too, 

Who  bought  us  with  his  blood 

From  everlasting  woe : 
And  now  he  lives,  and  now  he  reigns, 
And  sees  the  fruit  of  all  his  pains. 

3  To  God  the  Spirit's  name 
Immortal  worship  give, 

Whose  new-creating  power 

Makes  the  dead  sinner  live  : 
His  work  completes  the  great  design. 
And  fills  the  soul  with  joy  divine. 

4  Almighty  God  !  to  thee 
Be  endless  honors  done, 

The  undivided  Three, 

The  great  and  glorious  One: 
Where  reason  fails,  with  all  her  powers. 
There  faith  prevails  and  love  adores. 

This  is  another  of  that  small,  but  very  sig- 
nificant, group  of  doxologies  under  the  gen- 
eral head  of  "A  Song  of  Praise  to  the  Blessed 
Trinity,"  with  which  Dr.  Isaac  Watts  closes 
Book  III.  of  \\\'s>.  Hymns,  1707.  The  inscrip- 
tion, with  which  he  introduces  this  particular 
division  of  the  Book,  ought  for  ever  to  settle 
the  question  of  his  religious  faith.  He  says  : 
"  I  cannot  persuade  myself  to  put  a  full 
period  to  these  Divine  Hymns  till  I  have  ad- 
dressed a  special  song  of  glory  to  God  the 
Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Spirit.  Though 
the  Latin  name  of  it,  Gloria  Patri,  be  retained 
in  our  nation  from  the  Roman  Church ;  and 
though  there  may  be  some  excesses  of  super- 
stitious honor  paid  to  the  words  of  it,  which 
may  have  wrought  some  unhappy  prejudices 
in  weaker  Christians,  yet  I  believe  it  still  to 
be  one  of  the  noblest  parts  of  Christian  wor- 
ship. The  subject  of  it  is  the  doctrine  of 
the  Trinity,  which  is  that  peculiar  glory  of 
the  divine  nature  that  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
has  so  clearly  revealed  unto  men,  and  is  so 
necessary  to  true  Christianity.  The  action  is 
praise,  which  is  one  of  the  most  complete 
and  exalted  parts  of  heavenly  worship.  I 
have  cast  the  song  into  a  variety  of  forms, 
and  have  fitted  it  by  a  plain  version,  or  a 
larger  paraphrase,  to  be  sung  either  alone  or 


at  the  conclusion  of  another  hymn.  I  have 
added  also  a  few  hosannas,  or  ascriptions  of 
salvation  to  Christ,  in  the  same  manner,  and 
for  the  same  end." 

305  Psahn  93.  H.  M. 

The  Lord  Jehovah  reigns  ; 

His  throne  is  built  on  high  ; 
The  garments  he  assumes 

Are  light  and  majesty  ; 
His  glories  shine  with  beams  so  bright 
No  mortal  eye  can  bear  the  sight. 

2  The  thunders  of  his  hand 
Keep  the  wide  world  in  awe ; 

His  wrath  and  justice  stand 

To  guard  his  holy  law  ; 
And  where  his  love  resolves  to  bless. 
His  truth  confirms  and  seals  the  grace. 

3  And  can  this  mighty  King 
Of  glory  condescend. 

And  will  he  write  his  name. 

My  Father  and  my  Friend  ? 
I  love  his  name,  I  love  his  word  : 
Join,  all  my  powers,  and  praise  the  Lord  ! 

Some  few  changes  have  been  made  in  the 
phraseology  of  this  very  familiar  song  of 
praise.  It  can  be  found  entire  as  No.  169  of 
Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  Hymns,  Book  II.  It  is  not 
claimed  as  a  version,  but  it  is  evidently  sug- 
gested by  Psalm  148.  Four  stanzas  are  given, 
and  the  title  is  affixed,  "  The  Divine  Perfec- 
tions." It  marks  with  a  most  skillful  progress 
of  poetic  transition  the  passing  of  Christian 
thought  over  from  God's  almost  insufferable 
glory  and  grandeur  and  majesty  to  his  grace 
and  love  and  fatherhood,  as  if  one  were  en- 
tering and  emerging  from  a  thunder-cloud 
and  suddenly  saw  the  iris  overhead  in  the 
sky.  The  ancient  Hebrews  had  one  doxology 
which  it  was  prescribed  for  every  one  to  use 
whose  heart  devoutly  desired  to  praise  the 
Almighty  on  the  departure  of  a  storm.  Each 
'worshiper  must  sing  on  the  instant  the  rain- 
bow appeared  along  the  surface  of  the  re- 
treating cloud :  "  Blessed  be  thou,  Jehovah 
our  God,  King  of  eternity,  ever  mindful  of 
thy  covenant,  faithful  in  thy  promise,  firm  in 
thy  word."  How  much  more  fitting  is  such 
an  ascription  when  we  see  the  rainbow  in 
these  gospel  days  !  We  need  never  more  be 
alarmed  when  we  think  of  the  omnipotent  Dei- 
ty of  earth  and  heaven  ;  all  the  power  we  dread 
is  engaged  on  our  side,  and  remains  pledged 
for  our  safety  and  salvation.  It  becomes  the 
sign  of  a  covenant  indeed  ;  a  gauge  of  unal- 
terable affection. 

306  The  Living  God.  H.  M. 

Thk  Lord  Jehovah  lives. 

And  blessed  be  my  Rock  ! 
Though  earth  her  bosom  heaves 

And  mountains  feel  the  shock. 
Though  oceans  rage  and  torrents  roar, 
He  is  the  same  for  evermore. 


I40 


GOD  : — THE   FATHER. 


2  The  Lord  Jehovah  lives, 
The  dying  sinner's  Friend  ; 

How  freely  he  forgives 

The  follies  that  offend  ! 
He  wipes  the  penitential  tear, 
Bids  faith  and  hope  the  spirit  cheer. 

3  The  Lord  Jehovali  lives 

To  hear  and  answer  prayer  ; 
Whoe'er  in  him  believes 

And  trusts  his  guardian  care, 
A  Father's  tender  love  shall  know, 
Whence  living  streams  of  comfort  flow. 

This  hymn,  written  by  Dr.  Thomas  Hast- 
ings, and  suggested  by  a  passage  in  Psalm 
1 8,  was  originally  composed  of  four  stanzas 
of  six  lines  each,  and  eiititled  "  The  Liv- 
ing God."  It  appeared  in  the  Additional 
Hymns  of  the  Reformed  Dutch  collection  in 
1846. 

While  we  are  writing,  up  in  the  high  re- 
gions over  this  vast  city  of  living  men  and 
women,  very  close  to  the  torrents  and  flashes 
and  roars  of  a  storm  in  the  spaces  still  higher 
overhead,  the  thought  forces  itself  upon  sense 
and  imagination  alike  that  all  this  tremendous 
power,  the  display  of  which  fills  the  soul  with 
awe  and  hushes  earthly  emotion  into  a  sub- 
dued reverence,  is  on  our  side  and  pledged  to 
a  believer's  positive  protection.  For  it  is  our 
Father  who  is  doing  this  in  the  air  at  noon- 
day !  "  Canst  thou  send  lightnings,  that  they 
may  go  and  say  unto  thee.  Here  we  are .'"  It 
is  said  that  the  German  peasants,  with  a  fine, 
sweet  sense  of  God's  grand  care  mingled  with 
infinite  majesty,  speak  of  das  Hebe  Gewitter — 
"  the  dear  thunder."  They  must  have  some 
secret  of  the  Lord  which  is  deep  and  abiding 
in  their  hearts.  There  is  a  word  that  aston- 
ishes the  man  who  tries  to  appreciate  it  in  the 
midst  of  a  cold  rush  of  a  winter  tempest  for 
the  first  time ;  it  is  the  Almighty  himself, 
talking  out  of  a  whirlwind,  who  asks  the 
question  in  the  Book  of  Job :  "  Hast  thou 
entered  into  the  treasures  of  the  snow  ?  or 
hast  thou  seen  the  treasures  of  the  hail  ?" 
Think  of  that !  "  the  treasures  —  the  treas- 
ures " — twice  in  the  same  sentence !  And 
then  the  same  voice  adds,  "  which  I  have  re- 
served against  the  time  of  trouble  !"  Let  us 
remember  that  Sweden's  greatest  king,  Gus- 
tavus  Adolphus.  when  he  was  warned  not  to 
risk  his  life  in  battle,  answered  with  a  calm- 
ness which  silenced  all  objection,  "  God,  the 
Almighty,  liveth !" 


307  Three  in  One. 

Grkat  Creator  !  who  this  day 
From  thy  perfect  work  didst  rest. 

By  the  souls  that  own  thy  sway 
Hallowed  be  its  hours  and  blest ; 

Cares  of  earth  aside  be  thrown, 

This  day  given  to  heaven  alone. 


7S.  61. 


2  Saviour  !  who  this  day  didst  break 
The  dark  prison  of  the  tomb, 

Bid  my  slumbering  soul  awake, 

Shine  through  all  its  sin  and  gloom  ; 
Let  me,  from  my  bonds  set  free, 
Rise  from  sin,  and  live  to  thee. 

3  Blessed  Spirit !  Comforter ! 

Sent  this  day  from  Christ  on  high, 
Lord,  on  me  thy  gifts  confer, 

Cleanse,  illumine,  sanctify  ; 
All  thine  influence  shed  abroad  ; 
Lead  me  to  the  truth  of  God. 

Mrs.  Julia  Ann  Elliott  was  the  daughter  of 
John  Marshall,  a  gentleman  residing  at  Hall- 
steads,  UUeswater,  in  England.  The  date  of 
her  birth  does  not  appear  in  the  various  no- 
tices of  her  life.  But  the  somewhat  romantic 
incident  is  recorded  that  about  the  year  1827 
she  was  invited  by  her  father  to  accompany 
him  on  a  visit  to  Brighton.  While  there  she 
attended  upon  the  ministry  of  Rev.  Henry 
Venn  Elliott,  the  brother  of  Miss  Charlotte 
Elliott,  whose  admirable  hymns  were  becom- 
ing known.  An  acquaintance  sprang  up 
which  ripened  into  a  sincere  affection,  and, 
October  31,  1833,  Miss  Marshall  became  the 
wife  of  the  preacher  she  had  heard.  For  the 
parish  life  she  entered  she  was  eminently 
fitted  ;  she  was  devout,  imaginative,  affection- 
ate-hearted, gentle,  and  charming.  In  1835 
her  husband  issued  Psalms  and  Hymns  for 
Public,  Private,  and  Social  Worship.  To 
this  his  wife  contributed  a  few  pieces  without 
giving  her  name.  But  when  the  third  edition 
of  the  book  was  reached,  and  as  its  success 
was  assured,  her  initials  were  added  to  each 
hymn.  Thus  she  became  associated  closely 
with  her  husband's  sister,  and  sang,  quite 
fitly,  with  the  singer  who  gave  the  church, 
"  Just  as  I  am,  without  one  plea."  Mrs.  El- 
liott died,  deeply  lamented,  November  3, 
1841. 


308  "Owf  in  Three." 

Come,  thou  Almighty  King, 
Help  us  thy  name  to  sing, 

Help  us  to  praise ; 
Father  !  all-glorious, 
O'er  all  victorious, 
Come,  and  reign  over  us, 

Ancient  of  Days ! 

2  Come,  thou  incarnate  Word, 
Gird  on  thy  mighty  sword  ; 

Our  prayer  attend ; 
Come,  and  thy  people  bless. 
And  give  thy  word  success  ; 
Spirit  of  holiness ! 

On  us  descend. 

3  Come,  holy  Comforter! 
Thy  sacred  witness  bear. 

In  this  glad  hour  : 
Thou,  who  almighty  art, 
Now  rule  in  every  heart. 
And  ne'er  from  us  depart. 

Spirit  of  power  ! 


6s,  4S. 


ATTRIBUTES. 


141 


4  To  the  great  One  in  Three 
The  highest  praises  be, 

Hence  evermore ! 
His  sovereign  majesty 
May  we  in  glory  see, 
And  to  eternity 

Love  and  adore. 

It  seems  odd  that  the  question  is  never  to 
be  laid  concerning  so  famous  and  so  excellent 
a  hymn  as  this.  It  was  found  printed  on  a 
little  leaflet  somewhere  in  1757,  and  there  are 
alongside  of  it  two  others  which  are  surely 
the  composition  of  Charles  Wesley ;  hence  by 
most  compilers  it  is  ascribed  to  that  author. 
He  never  claimed  it,  however,  nor  has  any 
one  else  ever  claimed  it  for  himself  or  for  any- 
body else.  It  is  one  of  the  brightest  hymns 
in  our  language  ;  for  over  a  hundred  years  it 
has  stood  credited  to  Charles  Wesley.  It 
was  published  in  an  old  collection  by  Rev. 
Martin  Madan  in  1763,  and  he  seems  once  to 
have  told  Walter  Shirley  he  might  use  it. 
But  nobody  can  say  how  Madan  had  author- 
ity over  it  if  Wesley  composed  it,  nor  why 
Wesley  did  not  issue  it  and  own  it  after  he 
had  written  it,  if  he  did  write  it.  It  was  not 
in  John  Wesley's  collection  in  1779.  But  if 
nobody  ever  comes  up  from  history  to  stand 
as  sponsor  for  this  waif,  and  the  w'orld  has 
got  into  the  habit  of  giving  the  glory  of  it  to 
Charles  Wesley,  it  is  only  putting  another 
crown  on  the  Ep worth  forehead,  and  we  are 
satisfied. 

309  '-The  blessed  Trinity."  7'.  61. 

Holy,  holy,  holy  Lord, 

God  of  hosts,  eternal  King, 
By  the  heavens  and  earth  adored  ; 

Angels  and  archangels  sing, 
Chanting  everlastingly 
To  the  blessed  Trinity. 

2  Thousands,  tens  of  thousands,  stand, 
Spirits  blest,  before  the  throne, 

Speeding  thence  at  thy  command, 

And,  when  thy  commands  are  done, 
Singing  everlastingly 
To  the  blessed  Trinity. 

3  Cherubim  and  seraphim 

Vail  their  faces  with  their  wings  ; 
Eyes  of  angels  are  too  dim 
1  To  behold  the  King  of  kings. 

While  they  sing  eternally 
To  the  blessed  Trinity. 

4  Thee  apostles,  prophets  thee. 
Thee  the  noble  martyr  band. 

Praise  with  solemn  jubilee, 

Thee,  the  church  in  every  land  ; 
Singing  everlastingly 
To  the  blessed  Trinity. 

5  Hallelujah  !   Lord,  to  thee. 
Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost; 

Godhead  one,  and  Persons  three  ; 
Join  us  with  the  heavenly  host, 
Singing  everlastingly 
To  the  blessed  Trinity. 

Evidently,  although  reckoned  fitly  enough 


among  the  original  compositions  of  Bishop 
Christopher  Wordsworth,  this  hymn  is  a  close 
following  of  the  ancient  Te  Deiim,  and  it 
might  be  considered  a  version,  or  at  least  a 
paraphrase,  of  that  great  anthem  of  Ambrose. 
It  was  first  published  in  The  Holy  Year :  or. 
Hymns  for  Sundays  and  Holy -days,  and 
Other  Occasions :  1862.  There  it  is  entitled 
"  Holy  Trinity,"  and  has  eight  stanzas. 

3JO  Nature's  King.  7s.  61. 

Oh,  give  thanks  to  him  who  made 
Morning  light  and  evening  shade  ; 
Source  and  giver  of  all  good. 
Nightly  sleep  and  daily  food  ; 
Quickener  of  our  wearied  powers  ; 
Guard  of  our  unconscious  hours. 

2  Oh,  give  thanks  to  nature's  King, 
Who  made  every  breathing  thing: 
His,  our  warm  and  sentient  frame, 
His,  the  mind's  immortal  flame. 
Oh,  how  close  the  ties  that  bind 
Spirits  to  the  Eternal  Mind  ! 

3  Oh,  give  thanks  with  heart  and  lip. 
For  we  are  his  workmanship  ; 

And  all  creatures  are  his  care  : 
Not  a  bird  that  cleaves  the  air 
Falls  unnoticed  ;  but  who  can 
Speak  the  Father's  love  to  man  ? 

4  Oh,  give  thanks  to  him  who  came 
In  a  mortal,  suffering  frame — 
Temple  of  the  Deity  — 

Came,  for  rebel  man  to  die  ; 
In  the  path  himself  hath  trod 
Leading  back  his  saints  to  God. 

From  The  Congregational  Hymn  Book, 
1836,  this  ascription  of  devout  acknowledg- 
ment has  been  chosen  as  worthy  of  every 
collection  made  for  the  use  of  the  singing 
children  of  God.  It  bears  the  name  of  Josiah 
Conder  who  compiled  and  edited  that  book. 
The  popularity  of  this  author  may  be  inferred 
from  the  fact  that  his  contributions  to  the  real 
service  of  the  sanctuary,  accepted  on  both 
sides  of  the  sea,  rank  next  in  number  and 
value  to  those  of  Watts  and  Wesley  and 
Doddridge.  The  one  now  before  us  is  feli- 
citously entitled,  "  Thanksgiving  for  Daily 
Mercies." 


31  i  The  Babe  0/ Bethlehem. 

As  with  gladness  men  of  old 
Did  the  guiding  star  behold. 
As  with  joy  they  hailed  its  light. 
Leading  onward,  beaming  bright  ; 
So,  most  gracious  Lord,  may  we 
Evermore  be  led  to  thee. 

2  As  with  joyful  steps  they  sped. 
Saviour,  to  thy  manger  bed, 
There  to  bend  the  knee  before 
Thee  whom  heaven  and  earth  adore 
So  may  we  with  willing  feet 

Ever  seek  the  mercy-seat. 

3  As  they  offered  gifts  most  rare 
At  thy  cradle  rude  and  bare. 

So  may  we  with  holv  joy, 
Pure  and  free  from  sin's  alloy. 


78.  61. 


142 


THE    LORD   JESUS   CHRIST. 


All  our  costliest  treasures  bring, 
Christ,  to  thee  our  heavenly  King. 

4  Holy  Jesus,  every  day 
Keep  us  in  the  narrow  way  ; 
And,  when  earthly  things  are  past, 
Bring  our  ransomed  souls  at  last 
VVhere  they  need  no  star  to  guide, 
Where  no  clouds  thy  glory  hide. 

Mr.  William  Chatterton  Dix,  the  author  of 
this  excellent  hymn,  is  the  son  of  John  Dix,  a 
surgeon  in  Bristol,  England ;  he  was  born 
June  14,  1837.  His  poems  appear  in  the  Lyra 
Eucharist ica.  1864;  Lyra  Messianica,  1864; 
and  the  Lllustrated  Book  of  Poems,  1867.  He 
also  wrote  for  St.  Raphael's  Hymn-Book  in 
1 861.  This  hymn  first  appeared  in  Hymns, 
Ancient  and  Modern,  and  was  written  in 
i860.  It  has  attained  and  certainly  merited 
an  unbounded  popularity ;  for  it  is  found  even 
in  the  Free  Church  Hymn-Book,  and  in  all 
the  new  hymnals  on  this  side  of  the  ocean. 
It  is  placed  among  the  325  "  standard  hymns 
of  the  highest  merit  according  to  the  verdict 
of  the  whole  Anglican  Church  "  in  England, 
and  in  the  first  rank ;  it  is  included  also  in 
the  list  of  "  the  best  one  hundred  hymns  in 
the  English  language,"  chosen  out  of  3,400 
lists  sent  at  its  invitation  to  the  Sunday  at 
Home,  in  London.  The  writer  is  not  a  cler- 
gyman, but  a  layman  in  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land, educated  at  Bristol  Grammar  School, 
and  trained  for  mercantile  pursuits.  It  pro- 
fesses to  be  an  Epiphany  hymn  founded  upon 
the  passage  in  Matthew  2:1,2.  In  these 
verses  is  given  an  account  of  the  visit  of  the 
Wise  Men  to  Jesus. 

We  have  no  authentic  record  of  the  number 
and  the  social  position  of  these  Magi.  They 
must  have  been  persons  of  wealth  and  rank, 
traveling  with  a  considerable  retinue.  That 
they  were  Gentiles  appears  from  the  whole 
tenor  of  the  narrative.  The  legends  concern- 
ing them  are  numerous  and  curious.  Their 
three  gifts  led  to  the  fancy  that  they  were 
three  in  number,  which  was  supposed  to 
correspond  to  the  three  divisions  of  the  earth 
as  then  known,  and  to  the  Trinity.  They 
were  three  kings — representatives  of  the  three 
great  families  of  Shem,  Ham,  and  Japhet ; 
and  hence  one  was  regarded  as  an  Ethiopian 
and  painted  black.  "  Sometimes  they  are 
spoken  of  as  fifteen,  and  sometimes  as  twelve, 
to  correspond  with  the  apostles,  and  their 
names  given,  and  the  special  gifts  they  pre- 
sented. Their  kingdoms  also  are  mentioned, 
and  their  very  ages,  which  are  made  to  rep- 
resent, youth,  manhood,  and  age.  Bede  de- 
scribes Melchior  as  an  old  man,  with  long 
white  hair  and  a  sweeping  beard,  who  gave 
the  gold,  as  to  a  king.     Caspar  was  a  beard- 


less youth,  with  a  ruddy  face,  who  presented 
the  frankincense,  as  a  gift  worthy  the  God. 
Balthasar  was  a  swarthy,  strong-bearded  man, 
who  gave  the  myrrh  for  the  burial.  Another 
tradition  affirms  that  they  arrived  at  Jerusa- 
lem with  a  retinue  of  a  thousand,  and  that 
they  left  an  army  of  7,000  men  on  the  far 
bank  of  the  Euphrates.  In  the  cathedral  at 
Cologne  the  supposed  skulls  of  the  three,  set 
in  jewels,  are  exhibited  in  a  golden  shrine. 
They  are  said  to  have  been  discovered  by 
Bishop  Reinald  of  Cologne  in  the  twelfth 
century. 

312  The  child  Christ.  L.  M. 

All  praise  to  thee,  eternal  Lord, 
Clothed  in  a  garb  of  flesh  and  blood  ; 
Choosing  a  manger  for  thy  throne, 
While  worlds  on  worlds  are  thine  alone ! 

2  Once  did  the  skies  before  thee  bow  ; 
A  virgin's  arms  contain  thee  now  ; 
Angels,  who  did  in  thee  rejoice. 
Now  listen  for  thine  infant  voice. 

3  A  little  child,  thou  art  our  guest, 
That  weary  ones  in  thee  may  rest ; 
Forlorn  and  lowly  is  thy  birth, 

That  we  may  rise  to  heaven  from  earth. 

4  Thou  comest  in  the  darksome  night 
To  make  us  children  of  the  light ; 

To  make  us,  in  the  realms  divine. 

Like  thine  own  angels  round  thee  shine. 

3  All  this  for  us  thy  love  hath  done: 
By  this  to  thee  our  love  is  won  ; 
For  this  we  tune  our  cheerful  lays, 
And  shout  our  thanks  in  ceaseless  praise. 

Music  was  the  charm  of  Martin  Luther's 
life.  He  played  the  flute  beautifully.  He 
composed  excellent  tunes,  and  translated 
psalms  and  WTOte  hymns  to  suit  the  meters. 
"  The  whole  people  is  singing  itself  into  this 
Lutheran  doctrine ;"  so  said  one  of  his  op- 
posers,  growing  afraid  of  the  Gospel  he  wove 
into  his  lyrical  strains.  He  published  a  col- 
lection of  them  in  1 524. 

This  one,  made  for  children,  is  found  in  the 
Sabbath  Hymn-Book,  compiled  in  Andover, 
Mass.,  and  issued  in  1858.  It  is  there  given 
as  a  translation,  but  without  name  attached 
to  it.  Mr.  S.  W.  Duffield  says  that  the  Ger- 
man hymn  of  Luther,  "  Gclobet  seist  Du,  Jesus 
Christ"  was  itself  "  a  free  rendering  probably 
from  the  Latin  of  Notker  Balbulus,  of  St. 
Gall,  composed  in  the  ninth  century :  '  Grates 
nunc  omnes  reddamus.'  " 

The  particulars  of  Martin  Luther's  life  and 
career  are  found  anywhere,  and  only  the  most 
meager  recital  of  them  is  needed  here.  He 
was  born  in  the  village  of  Eisleben  in  1483, 
entered  the  university  at  Erfurt  in  1501,  was 
graduated  with  honor,  receiving  the  degree  of 
Doctor  of  Philosophy.  He  was  received  into 
an   Augustinian   monastery   in   Erfurt  as  a 


INCARNATION    AND    BIRTH. 


143 


MARTIN    LUTHER. 

priest  in  1507,  and  by  all  the  authorities  is 
credited  with  a  sincere  and  conscientious 
fidelity  to  all  the  regulations  of  the  order.  A 
remark  of  his  is  often  quoted  as  bearing  his 
own  testimony  to  the  religiousness  of  his  life 
during  this  period :  "  If  ever  a  monk  got  to 
heaven  by  monkery,  I  was  determined  to  get 
there." 

His  attainments  in  scholarship  were  so  no- 
ticeable that  in  the  next  year  he  was  called 
to  the  chair  of  philosophy  in  the  University  of 
Wittenberg,  and  in  1512  he  was  honored  with 
the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Theology.  He  had 
some  misgivings  in  the  course  of  these  years, 
yet  he  believed  they  would  vanish  if  only  he 
could  once  visit  Rome  as  the  center  of  the 
Church.  He  succeeded  at  last  in  making  the 
pilgrimage,  and  crawled  up  Pilate's  Staircase 
on  his  bare  knees,  as  true  a  devotee  as  ever 
the  Roman  Catholic  Church  knew.  But  the 
corruption  and  scandal  he  saw  among  the 
ecclesiastics  startled  him  yet  more  seriously. 

When  he  returned  home  he  was  shocked 
by  the  public  sale  of  indulgences  by  Tetzel, 
authorized  by  Leo  X.,  who  was  then  the 
pope.  Against  this  venal  wickedness  his  soul 
rose  in  opposition.  On  October  31,  1 517,  he 
posted  at  midday  his  ninety-five  Theses 
against  the  merit  of  Indidgences  on  the  door 
of  the  church  in  Wittenberg.  That  act  began 
the  great  Reformation. 


From  this  his  progress  was  direct  and  rapid. 
He  was  excommunicated,  but  at  once  burnt 
the  pope's  bull.  This  was  in  1520.  He 
kindled  the  fire  which  illuminated  the  world. 
As  the  years  passed  on  he  advanced  to  the 
very  front  of  the  movement.  He  translated 
the  New  Testament  in  1 522,  and  so  gave  the 
Gospel  to  the  common  people  of  Germany. 
He  issued  tracts  voluminously.  Of  course  he 
was  pursued,  denounced,  and  condemned. 
Through  a  hundred  perils  he  yet  lived  to  a 
good  old  age,  and  died  in  1 546  in  his  own 
home.  His  last  words,  three  times  repeated, 
were  these :  "  Father,  into  thy  hands  I  com- 
mend my  spirit.  Thou  hast  redeemed  me, 
thou  faithful  God." 

3  I  3  Incarnation.  L.  M. 

Before  the  heavens  were  spread  abroad 

From  everlasting  was  the  Word  ; 
Witli  God  he  was,  the  Word  was  God  ! 

And  must  divinely  be  adored. 

2  Ere  sin  was  born,  or  Satan  fell. 
He  led  the  host  of  morninj;  stars  : 

His  generation  who  can  tell, 
Or  count  the  number  of  his  years  ? 

3  But  lo,  he  leaves  those  heavenly  forms : 
The  VVord  descends  and  dwells  in  clay. 

That  he  may  converse  hold  with  worms, 
Dressed  in  such  feeble  flesh  as  they. 

4  Mortals  with  joy  behold  his  face. 
The  eternal  Father's  only  Son  : 

How  full  of  truth,  how  full  of  grace, 
When  in  his  eyes  the  Godhead  shone  ! 

5  Archangels  leave  their  high  abode, 
To  learn  new  mysteries  here,  and  tell 

The  love  of  our  descending  God, 
The  glories  of  Immanuel. 

In  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  Hymns  this  stands  as 
No.  2  of  Book  I.,  with  the  title,  "  The  Deity 
and  Humanity  of  Christ."  To  many  it  m.ust 
always  seem  a  dull  piece  of  poetry ;  but  it 
helps  when  one  wishes  to  sing  solid  doctrine 
for  an  exercise ;  and  it  will  always  be  availa- 
ble as  a  masterful  rejoinder  when  critics  be- 
gin again  to  insist,  as  they  used  to,  that  the 
famous  Congregational  hymn-maker  was  at 
heart  a  Unitarian.  Here  he  sings  like  a  po- 
lemic ;  and  he  marshals  his  proof-texts  as  he 
proceeds:  John  i  :  13,  14;  Colossians  i  :  16  ; 
Ephesians  3  :  9,  10. 

314  ^^  God  with  me y  L.  M. 

Eternal  Father,  when  to  thee. 
Beyond  all  worlds,  by  faith  I  soar, 

Before  thy  boundless  majesty 
I  stand  in  silence  and  adore. 

2  But,  Saviour,  thou  art  by  my  side  ; 
Thy  voice  I  hear,  thy  face  I  see  ; 

Thou  art  my  friend,  my  daily  guide  ; 
God  over  all,  yet  God  with  me  ! 

3  And  thou,  Great  Spirit,  in  my  heart 
Dost  make  thy  temple  dav  bv  day  ; 

The  Holy  Ghost  of  God  thou  art, 
Yet  dwellest  in  this  house  of  clay. 


144 


THE   LORD   JESUS   CHRIST. 


4  Blest  Trinity,  in  whom  alone 
All  things  created  move  or  rest, 

High  in  the  heavens  thou  hast  thy  throne, 
Thou  hast  thv  throne  within  my  breast. 


DR.  H.  D.  GANSE. 


While  the  pen  was  writing  the  lines  of  this 
notice  of  his  hymn,  the  news  came  that  Rev. 
Hervey  Doddridge  Ganse,  D.  D.,  had  died 
suddenly  at  his  home  on  Belden  Avenue, 
Chicago,  111.,  from  paralysis  of  the  heart. 
Only  a  week  before,  he  had  (with  much  mod- 
est protestation)  sent  his  photograph  for  the 
likeness  which  accompanies  the  annotation. 
He  was  born  in  Fishkill,  N.  Y.,  February  27, 
1822.  In  1839  he  graduated  at  Columbia 
College,  and  at  New  Brunswick  (Reformed 
Dutch)  Theological  Seminary'  in  1843.  He 
was  first  installed  as  the  pastor  of  the  church 
of  Freehold,  N.  J.,  whence  he  was  called  in 
1856  to  the  Twenty-third  Street  Reformed 
Church  of  New  York  city,  afterward  called 
the  Madison  Avenue  Church.  In  1876  he 
transferred  his  ecclesiastical  connection  to  the 
Presbnerian  body,  and  became  the  pastor  of 
the  First  Presbyterian  Church  of  St.  Louis. 
Upon  the  organization  of  the  Presbyterian 
Board  of  Aid  for  Colleges  and  Academies  in 
1883,  Dr.  Ganse  was  elected  its  secretary, 
and  removed  to  Chicago  to  enter  upon  the 
duties  of  the  oflfice,  continuing  therein  until 
his  death.  In  every  position  which  he  filled 
Dr.  Ganse  displayed  abilities  of  the  highest 
order,  combined  with  unusual  consecration 
to  duty.  The  beautiful  building  now  occu- 
pied by  the  Madison  Avenue  Reformed 
Church  in  Fifty-seventh  Street  was  erected 
during  his  pastorate.     The  Board  of  Aid  for 


Colleges  and  Academies  has  developed  into 
one  of  the  principal  and  most  prosperous 
benevolent  agencies  in  the  Presbyterian 
Church.  Dr.  Ganse  was  the  composer  of 
numerous  hymns  among  church  collections, 
and  sung  by  Presbyterians  universally.  He 
was  a  man  of  positive  convictions,  decisive 
utterance,  but  always  courteous,  gentle,  and 
generous.     He  died  September  8,  1891. 

315  "  They  saw  the  Star."  L-  M.  D. 

When,  marshaled  on  the  nightly  plain, 

The  glittering  host  bestud  the  sky, 
One  star  a!on«^,  r,f  all  the  train, 

Can  fix  the  sinner's  wandering  eye. 
Hark  !  hark  !  to  God  the  chorus  breaks 

From  every  host,  from  evety  gem  ; 
But  one  alone  the  Saviour  speaks — 

It  is  the  Star  of  Bethlehem. 

2  Once  on  the  raging  seas  I  rode, 

The  storm  was  loud,  the  night  was  dark, 
The  ocean  yawned,  and  rudely  blowed 

The  wind  that  tossed  my  foundering  bark. 
Deep  horror  then  m>-  vitals  froze  : 

Death-struck,  I  ceased  the  tide  to  stem  ; 
When  suddenly  a  star  arose. 

It  was  the  Star  of  Bethlehem  ! 

3  It  was  my  guide,  my  light,  my  all  ; 
It  bade  my  dark  forebodings  cease. 

And  through  the  storm  and  danger's  thrall 

It  led  me  to  the  port  of  peace. 
Now  safely  moored,  my  perils  o'er, 

I  'il  sing,  first  in  night's  diadem. 
For  ever  and  for  evermore. 

The  Star,  the  Star  of  Bethlehem  ! 

Formerly,  in  New  England  collections,  this 
piece  began  with  the  line,  "  Once  on  the  ra- 
ging seas  I  rode,"  and  used  to  be  sung  to  the 
air  of  the  Scotch  "  Bonnie  Doon."  It  is 
more  than  usually  interesting  to  Christian 
sensibility  as  it  stands  now  complete  ;  for  it 
is  known  that  Henry  Kirke  White  meant, 
when  he  composed  it,  that  the  progress  of 
the  verses  should  seem  to  picture  the  ad- 
vance of  his  own  experience  in  coming  forth 
from  his  youthful  skepticism  into  the  glorious 
light  of  the  gospel.  He  was  a  precocious 
boy,  full  of  imagination  and  sensibility ;  but 
he  read  Scott's  Force  of  Truth  with  the 
greatest  profit.  He  caught  the  apposite 
figure  in  the  star  which  led  the  Magi  to  the 
spot  where  the  young  Child  was.  He  was 
converted  joyously,  but  died  in  preparation 
for  the  evangelical  ministry,  leaving  behind 
him  this  marvelous  song  for  the  help  of  oth- 
ers. It  was  first  published  in  Dr.  Collyers 
Selection,  181 2. 


316 


"Prince  of  Salem." 


L.  M.  D. 


When  Jordan  hushed  his  waters  still. 

And  silence  slept  on  Zion's  hill ; 

When  Salem's  shepherds  through  the  night 

Watched  o'er  their  flocks  by  starry  light ; 

Hark  !  from  the  midnight  hills  around, 

A  voice  of  more  than  mortal  sound 

In  distant  hallelujahs  stole. 

Wild  murmuring  o'er  the  raptured  soul. 


INCARNATION   AND  BIRTH. 


H5 


2  On  wheels  of  light,  on  wings  of  flame, 
The  glorious  hosts  of  Zioti  came  ; 

High  heaven  with  songs  of  triumph  rung, 

While  thus  they  struck  their  harps  and  sung : 

"  O  Zion  !  lift  thy  raptured  eye ; 

The  long-expected  hour  is  nigh ; 

The  joys  of  nature  rise  again, 

The  Prince  of  Salem  comes  to  reign. 

3  "  He  comes  to  cheer  the  trembling  heart. 
Bids  Satan  and  his  host  depart ; 

Again  the  Daystar  gilds  the  gloom, 
Again  the  bowers  of  Eden  bloom." 
O  Zion  !  lift  thy  raptured  eye; 
The  long-expected  hour  is  nigh ; 
The  joys  of  nature  rise  again. 
The  Prince  of  Salem  comes  to  reign. 

It  is  not  worth  while  to  record  here  the 
items  in  the  biography  of  Thomas  Campbell, 
the  well-known  author  of  Gertrude  of  Wy- 
oming, and  The  Pleasures  of  Hope.  He  was 
born  in  Glasgow,  July  27,  1777;  he  was 
graduated  at  the  University  there,  and  lived 
to  become  three  times  in  succession  the  Lord 
Rector  of  his  Alma  Mater.  He  had  nothing 
in  common  with  religious  hymnolog^.  Only 
this  piece  survives.  He  died  at  Boulogne  in 
France,  June  15,  1844;  and  he  lies  buried  in 
Westminster  Abbey. 


317 


The  Angels'  Song. 


C.  M.  D. 


It  caMie  upon  the  midnight  clear. 

That  glorious  song  of  old, 
From  angels  bending  near  the  earth 

To  touch  their  harps  <>f  gold  : 
"  Peace  to  the  earth,  good-will  to  men. 

From  heaven's  all-gracious  King  ;" 
The  earth  in  solemn  stilness  lay 

To  hear  the  angels  sing. 

2  Still  through  the  cloven  skies  they  come, 
With  peaceful  wings  unfurled  ; 

And  still  celestial  music  floats 

O'er  all  the  weary  world  ; 
Above  its  sad  and  lowly  plains 

They  bend  on  heavenly  wing. 
And  ever  o'er  its  Babel  sounds 

The  blessfid  angels  sing. 

3  O  ye,  beneath  life's  crushing  load 
Whose  forms  are  bending  low. 

Who  toil  along  the  climbing  way 

With  painful  steps  and  slow — 
Look  up  !  for  glad  and  golden  hours 

Come  swiftly  on  the  wing; 
Oh,  rest  beside  the  weary  road, 

And  hear  the  angels  sing  ! 

4  For  lo  !  the  days  are  hastening  on, 
By  prophet-bards  foretold. 

When  with  the  ever-circling  years 

Comes  round  the  age  of  gold  ! 
When  peace  shall  over  all  the  earth 

Its  final  splendors  fling. 
And  the  whole  world  send  back  the  song 

Which  now  the  angels  sing ! 

Rev.  Edmund  Hamilton  Sears,  D.  D.,  the 
author  of  this  hymn,  was  born  at  Sandisfield, 
Mass.,  April  6,  18 10.  He  received  his  aca- 
demic education  at  Union  College  in  Sche- 
nectady, N.  Y.,  where  he  graduated  in  1834. 
His  theological  preparation  for  the  ministry 
was  made  at  the  Divinity  School  of  Harvard 


University.  He  entered  at  once  upon  the 
pastorate  of  the  Unitarian  Church  in  Way- 
land,  Mass.,  being  installed  in  1838.  He 
changed  his  residence  several  times  in  the 
course  of  his  life,  coming  back  after  a  while 
to  his  first  charge  again,  in  1847.  In  1865 
be  removed  to  Weston,  Mass.,  where  he  re- 
mained until  his  death,  January  14,  1876, 
He  wrote  good  books,  and  sang  many  exqui- 
site songs,  of  which  this  one,  and  that  begin- 
ning, "  Calm  on  the  listening  ear  of  night," 
have  gone  around  the  world  as  among  the 
best  in  the  language.  This  appeared  first  in 
the  Christ  tan  Register,  December,  1850. 

The  beauty  of  the  imagery  and  rhythm 
here  is  almost  matchless,  and  the  sentiment 
is  hopeful  and  prophetic.  I  may  be  par- 
doned for  illustrating  such  a  statement  by 
referring  to  an  incident  which  made  a  deep 
impression  upon  our  party  once,  as  we  stood 
together  in  the  Alabaster  Mosque  at  the  Cita- 
del in  Cairo  a  few  years  ago. 

Wearied  of  architecture  at  last,  we  were 
lingering  beside  the  singular  tomb  of  the 
great  man  who  founded  the  mosque  at  the 
first  on  the  citadel  long  before  this  structure 
was  erected.  The  monument  is  more  than 
five  hundred  years  old.  It  is  surrounded  by 
an  iron  railing,  the  door  of  which  is  kept 
heavily  padlocked.  Silver  lanterns  were 
burning  over  and  around  the  elevated  sar- 
cophagus, whose  glittering  radiance  lit  the 
surface  of  stone  until  it  flashed  with  its  inlaid 
jewels  and  plates  of  overlying  gold.  Just 
there  I  had  a  conversation  with  our  drago- 
man, an  Egyptian  whom  I  had  employed  on 
two  occasions  to  conduct  our  party  into  Pal- 
estine, and  had  used  as  a  valet  de  place  in 
Egypt  beforehand. 

Noticing  the  carefulness  with  which  the 
small  railing  was  locked  on  every  side,  I 
asked  if  any  one  was  ever  allowed  to  enter  the 
gates.  He  said  "  No."  I  intimated,  however, 
that  I  presumed  he  might  go  in  if  he  desired 
it,  being  a  believer,  even  though  the  people 
would  forbid  a  foreigner.  He  replied  hastily, 
and  with  an  unaffected  start  of  alarm,  "  Oh, 
no  !  I  would  never  go  inside  there !  He  was 
a  holy  man.  I  am  never  so  good.  He  lived 
in  a  better  year.  That  was  a  great  while  ago 
in  Cairo.  Those  years  are  gone.  No  man 
like  him  lives  now.  Those  years  were  gold 
years.  There  is  a  book  at  Shechem  worth  a 
great  deal  of  money,  more  than  I  can  tell. 
The  Englishmen  are  trying  to  get  it.  They 
sent  a  man  last  summer  to  buy  it.  He  offered 
them  a  hundred  thousands  of  pounds.  They 
could  not  buy  it.  They  will  have  that  book 
by  and  by  from  somebody.     Then  there  will 


146 


THE  LORD  JESUS   CHRIST. 


be  no  more  your  religion,  no  more  English 
religion,  no  more  my  religion.  That  book 
will  give  the  only  true  religion.  Our  men 
know  all  about  it.  They  want  the  true  reli- 
gion the  more  than  English  want  it.  Our 
religion  is  not  good.  It  was  good.  A  great 
while  ago  it  was  gold  time.  Now  it  is  not 
gold  time  any  more." 

Astonished  at  the  high  excitement  of  this 
man,  for  he  was  trembling  in  every  limb,  and 
arrested  on  the  instant  by  his  mistaken  notion 
of  the  endeavors  which  the  British  Explora- 
tion Fund  for  Palestine  during  the  year  just 
previous  had  been  making  to  secure  a  copy 
of  the  Samaritan  Bible  from  the  priests  on 
Mount  Gerizim,  who  guard  it  with  more  jeal- 
ousy than  is  proportionate  to  its  value,  I  in- 
quired again  with  eagerness  of  surprise 
whether  that  book,  as  he  supposed,  would 
prove  the  Koran  to  be  wrong.  And  his  an- 
swer came  sadly,  and  was  made  in  a  quiet 
tone  almost  like  a  whisper,  "  Yes ;  all  our 
men  say  so.  They  tell  every  one  now  that 
Koran  religion  is  good,  but  that  this  book 
will  give  what  is  the  true  religion.  We  are 
all  bad.  We  want  a  new  religion.  Great 
while  ago  men  were  good.  Our  religion  was 
good,  but  it  will  not  longer  last  for  us.  We 
shall  have  the  true  religion  in  the  book.  Not 
ever  your  religion  ;  not  ever  my  religion ;  the 
true  religion.  Then  it  is  the  gold  times  will 
all  come  back  again.  Men  will  be  good  men 
then." 

He  then  went  on  to  relate  how  many  of  the 
preachers  of  his  faith  he  knew  who  w^ere  ex- 
pecting an  overthrow  of  their  church  and 
government  before  long.  His  voice  continued 
to  grow  mournful  and  melancholy  when  he 
admitted  how  wicked  most  of  the  people  had 
become.  During  this  interview  the  day  was 
drawing  nearer  its  close.  The  entire  scene 
has  an  element  of  romance  in  it,  a  touch  of 
glamour,  as  I  try  to  recall  it  at  this  distance 
of  time.  I  have  sometimes  sat  in  the  gloom 
at  nightfall  suffering  my  imagination  to  re- 
produce the  spectacle.  I  seem  to  see,  as  I 
reflect,  the  earnest  face  of  that  excited  Egyp- 
tian while  he  stands  by  the  tomb  he  admits 
he  is  not  worthy  ever  to  enter.  His  hand  is 
trembling  as  he  grasps  the  bar  of  the  gilded 
grating.  Over  us  both  falls  a  rich  light  from 
the  arches  overhead,  blending  a  score  of  hues 
in  glorious  beams  as  they  stream  through  the 
panes  of  stained  glass.  Around,  far  off,  as 
my  eyes  range  into  the  recesses  of  the  after- 
noon shadows  of  the  mosque,  I  can  dimly 
discern  a  host  of  kneeling  forms  of  followers, 
some  of  them  positive  devotees,  of  the  historic 
faith  of  Islam. 


And  I,  a  child  of  hope  through  grace  of  a 
living^  Redeemer,  crucified  once,  but  now 
glorified  for  ever,  a  preacher  of  the  coming 
and  everlasting  reign  of  Immanuel  whose 
kingdom  will  absorb  and  include  all,  am  sud- 
denly confronted  with  a  disclosure  of  weak- 
ness and  the  admission  of  dotage  and  con- 
sternation on  the  part  of  some  of  its  most 
formidable  foes.  There  we  meet  upon  the 
Book !  The  true  religion  is  in  the  Bible  for 
all  of  us  alike.  When  it  comes  to  be  the 
source  of  truth  and  the  law  of  conduct  on 
earth,  there  will  be  good  men  in  the  world 
once  more  to  lift  the  race  and  glorify  God. 
I  am  told  by  a  heathen,  as  all  have  been 
taught  to  call,  him,  that  not  just  what  a  man 
takes  for  his  religion  is  to  save  him,  but  what 
he  is  to  be  himself  is  to  save  him. 

So  I  am  apt  to  sit  thinking  of  the  day  as 
perhaps  nearer  than  an  apathetic  Church  has 
appeared  to  be  imagining  lately,  when  the 
King  of  the  kingdom  will  be  here.  And 
sometimes  I  sing  just  softly  to  myself : 

"  For  lo  !  the  days  are  hastening  on, 
By  prophet-bards  foretold, 
When  with  the  ever-circling  years 
Conies  round  the  age  of  gold  !" 


318 


Bethlehem  Song. 


L.  M.  D. 


While  shepherds  watched  their  flocks  by  night, 

All  seated  on  the  ground, 
The  angel  of  the  Lord  came  down, 

And  glory  shone  around. 
"  Fear  not,"  said  he — for  mighty  dread 

Had  seized  their  troubled  mind — 
"  Glad  tidings  of  great  joy  I  bring, 

To  you  and  all  mankind. 

2  "  To  you,  in  David's  town  this  day, 
Is  born  of  David's  line 

The  Saviour,  who  is  Christ,  the  Lord, 

And  this  shall  be  the  sign  ; — 
The  heavenly  babe  you  there  shall  find 

To  human  view  displayed, 
All  meanly  wrapped  in  swathing  bands, 

And  in  a  manger  laid." 

3  Thus  spake  the  seraph — and  forthwith 
Appeared  a  shining  throng 

Of  angels,  praising  God,  who  thus 

Addressed  their  joyful  song  : — 
"All  glory  be  to  God  on  high, 

And  to  the  earth  be  peace  ; 
Good-will  henceforth  from  heaven  to  men 

Begin,  and  never  cease  !" 

This  quaint,  picturesque,  familiar  old  hymn 
is  now  in  almost  universal  use  throughout 
Christendom.  It  has  been  rendered  into 
nearly  all  the  living  languages  of  the  world, 
and  ingenious  scholars  who  love  it  have  vied 
with  each  other  in  translating  its  stanzas  into 
classical  Latin.  It  is  the  work  of  Nahum 
Tate,  once  Poet  Laureate  of  England,  and  is 
found  in  the  Supplemettt  to  the  collection  of 
Psalms  he  made  in  partnership  with  Dr.  Bra- 
dy :  Third  Edition,  1702.  The  authorship  of 
the  earlier  part  of  the  book  was  concealed, 


INCARNATION   AND    BIRTH. 


147 


SO  that  there  will  always  be  some  obscurity 
concerning  the  credit  of  speciric  versions  of 
the  Psalms ;  but  it  is  generally  agreed  now 
that  the  Supplonent  was  the  work  of  Tate. 


319 


Angels^  music. 


C.  M.  D. 


Calm  on  the  listening  ear  of  night 

Come  heaven's  melodious  strains, 
Where  wild  Judea  stretches  far 

Her  silver-mantled  plains. 
Cel  ;stial  choirs,  from  courts  above, 

Shed  sacred  glories  there, 
And  angeis,  with  their  sparkling  lyres. 

Make  music  on  the  air. 

2  The  answering  hills  of  Palestine 
Send  back  the  glad  reply. 

And  greet  from  all  their  holy  heights 

The  Dayspring  from  on  high: 
O'er  the  blue  depths  of  Galilee 

There  comes  a  holier  calm  ; 
And  Sharon  waves  in  solemn  praise 

Her  silent  groves  of  palm. 

3  "  Glory  to  God  !"  the  lofty  strain 
The  realms  of  ether  fills  ; 

How  sweeps  the  song  of  solemn  joy 

O'er  Judah's  sacred  hills  ! 
"  Glory  to  God  !"  the  sounding  skies 

Loud  with  their  anthems  ring  : 
"  Peace  on  the  earth  ;  good-svill  to  men. 

From  heaven's  eternal  King." 

We  have  now  the  second  of  the  two  hymns 
by  Rev.  Edmund  Hamilton  Sears,  D.  D., 
which  have  received  the  highest  praise  as 
poetry  ever  bestowed  upon  an  American 
writer  of  religious  verse.  The  author  passed 
his  life  in  the  communion  of  the  Unitarian 
Church  ;  but  we  are  told  since  his  death  that 
"  he  held  always  to  the  absolute  Divinity  of 
Christ,"  and  that  "  his  views  were  rather 
Swedenborgian  than  Unitarian."  This  piece 
appeared  first  in  the  Boston  Observer,  1834. 
The  melody  of  the  lines,  as  they  rise  and  fall 
like  Christmas  chimes  in  the  air,  the  exquisite 
gladness  of  the  sentiment,  the  lofty  range  of 
imagination  in  the  figures,  are  inimitably  fine. 

320  The  Nativity.  7S.  D. 

Hark  !  the  herald  angels  sing 
"  Glory  to  the  new-born  King ; 
Peace  on  earth  and  mercy  mild, 
God  and  sinners  reconciled  !" 
Joyful,  all  ye  nations,  rise. 
Join  the  triumph  of  the  skies  ; 
With  the  angelic  host  proclaim, 
Christ  is  born  in  Bethlehem  ! 

2  Christ,  by  highest  heaven  adored ; 
Christ,  the  everlasting  Lord  ; 

Late  in  time  behold  him  come. 
Offspring  of  the  Virgin's  womb: 
Vailed  in  flesh  the  Godhead  see  ; 
Hail  the  incarnate  Deity, 
Pleased  as  man  with  men  to  dwell ; 
Jesus,  our  Immanuel ! 

3  Hail !  the  heaven-born  Prince  of  Peace  I 
Hail  the  Sun  of  Righteousness  ! 

Light  and  life  to  all  he  brings, 
Risen  with  healing  in  his  wings: 
Mild  he  lays  his  glory  by. 
Born  that  man  no  more  may  die: 
Born  to  raise  the  sons  of  earth. 
Born  to  give  them  second  birth. 


This  familiar  and  favorite  hymn  from 
HyvtJts  and  Sacred  Poems,  1739,  owes  some- 
thing of  its  popularity  to  the  splendid  piece 
of  music  to  which  it  is  generally  sung  in 
America.  Mendelssohn's  tune  is  exactly 
adapted  to  carry  its  majestic  strains  of  tri- 
umph ;  the  choirs  of  highest  training  equally 
with  the  simplest  children  of  the  Sunday- 
schools  are  fond  of  it  and  edified  by  it.  It  is 
noticeable  that  this  is  the  only  one  of  Rev. 
Charles  Wesley's  contributions  to  England's 
treasures  of  hymnody  that  was  ever  included 
in  the  English  Book  of  Common  Prayer  ;  and 
how  it  came  there  no  one  can  say. 

Just  here  it  is  worth  the  inquiry  how  it 
comes  about  that  angels  from  a  sinless  heav- 
en are  interested  enough  in  the  birth  of  a  hu- 
man Redeemer  to  show  such  lively  and  exu- 
berant pleasure  as  makes  these  Bethlehem 
hills  ring  with  their  praise  unto  God.  And  the 
answer  cannot  be  difficult.  We  must  recall 
the  description  furnished  us  of  angels'  emo- 
tions while  they  were  compelled  to  wait  under 
the  awful  mystery  of  Christ's  sufferings. 
They  are  presented  to  us  as  fitly  imaged  in 
the  cherubim  on  the  mercy-seat  of  old  :  those 
two  singular  figures  of  gold,  bending  rever- 
ently forward  toward  each  other  over  the  ark 
in  the  Holy  of  Holies,  with  eyes  cast  down- 
ward, as  if  they  were  curiously  listening  tO' 
whatever  might  be  spoken  from  out  the  inef- 
fable light  between  them.  The  language  is 
familiar ;  but  there  is  in  it  a  felicity  almost 
lost  in  its  rendering  into  ours.  "  Which 
things  the  angels  desire  to  look  into :"  this 
means,  which  things  they  are  peering  over 
into — bending  their  heads  down  and  fixing 
their  eyes,  as  if  a  holy  curiosity  possessed 
them,  as  if  they  were  investigating  an  awful 
secret  which  demanded  closest  and  most  ear- 
nest attention. 

Furthermore,  we  must  remember  that  the 
apostle  Paul  asserts,  in  a  brilliant  passage  of 
the  Epistle  to  the  Ephesians,  that  there  was 
once  a  recognized  and  explicit  moment  in 
eternal  history  when  the  manifold  wisdom  of 
God  was  made  known  unto  the  powers  and 
principalities  in  heavenly  places — the  fellow- 
ship of  the  mystery  hid  in  God  from  the  be- 
ginning of  the  world.  When  was  that  }  At 
what  precise  instant — at  what  period  along 
the  ages  of  human  registering  by  days  and 
years — did  the  angels  first  learn  the  meaning 
and  the  majesty  of  Christ's  incarnation,  his 
suffering,  and  his  death  }  We  can  get  no  in- 
spired answer ;  but  surely  there  never  was  a 
more  appropriate  opportunity  for  this  sublime 
disclosure  than  this  now  offered  on  the  day 
when  the  incarnation  became  a  fact.    It  does 


148 


THE   LORD   JESUS   CHRIST. 


not  seem  unlikely  that  when  the  midnight 
first  fell  away  from  over  Bethlehem  and  its 
shepherds  on  the  hills — at  just  that  crisis  in 
history,  human   and   angelic  —  the   heavenly 
host  were  earliest   made  aware  of  the  deep 
significance  of  the  amazing  transaction  they 
witnessed.       It   may    be    imagined    without 
harm,  as  has  been  suggested  by  one  of  the 
most  eloquent  of  English  preachers,  that  Je- 
sus' errand  on  earth  was  then  explained  to 
angels  by  just  these  very  words  we  are  sing- 
ing, spoken  by  their  leader,  this  chief  angel, 
to  those  astonished  shepherds  out  upon  the 
hill.     And  if  it  be  true  that  these  high  intelli- 
gences, who  had  until  this  supreme  moment 
never  before  understood  what  it  was  for  an 
unpardoned  sinner  against  God  to  have  an 
atonement ;  who  had  gazed  upon  the  wreck 
of  a  fair  world  without  any  hope  of  its  resto- 
ration ;  who  had  witnessed  the  action  of  in- 
flexible justice,  as  it  actually  sent  hell  into 
existence  for  the  doleful  abode  of  some  of 
their  o\\ti  race,  even  then  chained  in  its  horri- 
ble pit  with  no  provisions   for  release  ;  if,  I 
say,  these  angels  now  met  one  historic  instant 
of  disclosure,  in  which   the  vail  of  eternity 
dropped  away  from  before  its  chief  mystery, 
and  so  was  revealed  to  their  hitherto  baffled 
minds  the  secret  on  which  they  had  for  ages 
so  hopelessly  pondered — if  this  be  true,  then 
it  would  not  be  surprising  if  the  moment  of 
such  vast   discovery,  such  unparalleled  and 
immense  acquisitions  of  knowledge,  should 
give  birth  to  a  song  transcending  every  strain 
they  had  ever  previously  chanted,  filling  the 
earth  and  the  heavens  alike  with  melody ;  and 
this  would  certainly  give  us  a  new  force,  if 
not  a  new  meaning,  to  the  old  verse  that  to 
so    many    readers    seems    such    a    puzzle : 
"  When  he  bringeth  in  the  first-begotten  into 
the  world,  he  saith,  Let  all  the  angels  of  God 
worship  him." 


Among  all  the  morns  of  time, 

Half  so  glorious  in  its  prime. 

Unto  us  a  Son  is  given  ! 

He  has  come  from  God's  own  heaven. 

Bringing  with  him  from  above 

Holy  peace  and  holy  love. 

This  is  one  of  the  best  of  the  lyrical  pieces 
which  Dr.  Horatius  Bonar  has  given  to  the 
singers  in  the  churches.  The  author  has  en- 
titled it  "A  Bethlehem  Hymn."  It  may  be 
found,  in  its  entirety  of  six  stanzas,  in  the  first 
series  of  Hymns  of  Faith  and  Hope,  1857. 
He  has  also  annexed  to  it  the  quotation  from 
Augustine  :  Mimduvi  implens,  in  prccsepio 
jacens.  It  is  wonderfully  effective  as  an  in- 
carnation anthem,  recognizing  so  fully  as  it 
does  the  humanity  and  divinity  of  our  Lord 
Jesus.  Those  who  are  so  apt  at  saying  bright 
things  about  the  Madonna  and  her  child — 
and  those  who  are  so  foolish  as  to  talk  con- 
cerning the  Church  and  her  Christ — might,  if 
they  would,  take  notice  that  the  Scriptures, 
when  they  speak,  mention  the  child  first. 
One  can  easily  imagine  that  the  shepherds, 
when  they  entered  the  presence  of  "  the  young 
child  and  his  mother,"  were  satisfied  to  know 
they  had  something  to  tell,  as  well  as  some- 
thing to  listen  to.  And  our  curiosity  almost 
runs  riot  as  we  think  of  the  conversation  there 
at  the  side  of  the  manger.  How  the  quiet 
Mary's  eyes  would  glisten,  as  she  heard  about 
the  song  of  angels  on  the  hill !  Indeed,  Jo- 
seph and  Mary  might  well  welcome  these 
homely  men;  for  there  was  in  their  plain 
words  of  congratulation  that  which  rejoiced 
their  souls  far  more  than  those  gifts  of  gold, 
frankincense,  and  myrrh  which  the  Mag^ 
brought  them  afterward.  Good  words  are 
always  more  valuable  than  rich  offerings, 
which  have  less  heart  in  them  ;  they  are  like 
"  apples  of  gold  in  pictures  of  silver." 


32  I  ■  "  The  Christ  of  God." 

He  has  come !  the  Christ  of  God 
Left  for  us  his  glad  abode  ; 
Stooping  from  his  throne  of  bliss 
To  this  darksome  wilderness. 
He  has  come  !  the  Prince  of  Peace ; 
Come  to  bid  our  sorrows  cease ; 
Come  to  scatter  with  his  light 
All  the  shadows  of  our  night. 

2  He  the  mighty  King  has  come  ! 
Making  this  poor  earth  his  home  ; 
Come  to  bear  our  sin's  sad  load  ; 
Son  of  David,  Son  of  God  ! 

He  has  come,  whose  name  of  grace 
Speaks  deliverance  to  our  race; 
Left  for  us  his  glad  abode  ; 
Son  of  Mary,  Son  of  God ! 

3  Unto  us  a  child  is  born  I 
Ne'er  has  earth  beheld  a  mom. 


322  Psalm  98.  C.  M. 

Joy  to  the  world  ;  the  Lord  is  come  ! 
_     j-j  Let  earth  receive  her  King ; 

'  ■      '  Let  every  heart  prepare  him  room, 

And  heaven  and  nature  sing. 

^  2  Joy  to  the  earth  ;  the  Saviour  reigns ; 

Let  men  their  songs  employ  ; 
While  fields  and  floods,  rocks,  hills,  and  plains. 
Repeat  the  sounding  joy. 

3  No  more  let  sins  and  sorrows  grow, 
Nor  thorns  infest  the  ground  ; 

He  comes  to  make  his  blessings  flow 
Far  as  the  curse  is  found. 

4  He  rules  the  world  with  truth  and  grace. 
And  makes  the  nations  prove 

The  glories  of  his  righteousness, 
AtkI  wonders  of  his  love. 

The  theme  of  this  version  of  Psalm  98,  as 
Dr.  Isaac  Watts  announced  it,  is,  "  The  Mes- 
siah's   Coming    and    Kingdom."     It  is  his 


INCARNATION   AND   BIRTH. 


149 


Second  Part,  C.  M.,  and  is  here  in  tiie  four 
stanzas  complete.  The  combination  of  these 
most  spirited  words  with  the  bright  arrange- 
ment of  music  by  Dr.  Lowell  Mason,  which 
he  called  "Antioch,"  is  a  great  favorite  at 
missionary  anniversaries  and  large  conven- 
tions for  evangelical  work.  But  it  ought  to 
be  confessed  that  it  is  frightfully  awkward,  in 
the  estimation  of  all  good  singers,  to  be 
obliged  to  repeat  the  syllables  in  the  absurd 
way  which  the  tune  requires  in  the  last  line. 
It  makes  no  trouble  that  needs  to  be  noticed 
to  say  over,  "  And  heaven^— and  heaven — and 
nature  sing."  And  it  is  "endurable  to  say — 
"Repeat  —  repeat  the  sounding  joy."  But 
we  submit  that  "  Far-ar-a-as — far-ar-a-as  the 
curse  is  found"  is  laughable;  and  "A-and- 
wo-ond  —  and  wo-o-on-ders  of  his  love"  is 
ridiculous.  The  remedy  for  this  is  found  in 
slurring  the  notes  needed  for  the  musical 
phrase  and  singing  the  syllables  as  a  reader 
would  speak  them. 

323  "All  hail  the  morn  /' '  7S.  D. 

Ha'l  the  night,  all  hail  the  morn, 
When  the  Prince  of  Peace  was  born  I 
Wlien,  amid  the  wakeful  fold. 
Tidings  good  the  angels  told. 
Now  our  solemn  chant  we  raise 
Duly  to  the  Saviour's  praise  : 
Now  with  carol  hymns  we  bless 
Christ  the  Lord,  our  righteousness. 

2  While  resounds  the  joyful  cry, 
"  Glory  be  to  God  on  high. 
Peace  on  earth,  good-will  to  men  I" 
Gladly  we  respond,  "Amen  !" 
Thus  we  greet  this  holy  day. 
Pouring  forth  our  festive  lay  ; 
Thus  we  tell  with  saintly  mirth 
Of  Immanuel's  wondrous  birth. 

This  hymn  was  taken  for  use  in  Laudes 
Domini  from  the  Sabbath  Hytnn-Book,  where 
it  was  registered  as  "  From  the  German." 
We  have  never  been  able  to  trace  its  author- 
ship any  farther  than  to  an  anonymous  selec- 
tion called  Christmas  Carols,  published  in 
London,  1837.  It  is  interesting  and  useful  in 
that  it  emphasizes  the  fact  that  a  celestial 
choir  came  to  the  earth  to  sing  at  the  time 
Jesus  was  born  at  Bethlehem.  In  gathering 
the  matter  for  our  own  instruction  just  now, 
we  ought  to  be  satisfied  if  we  can  be  led  to 
remember  this  sweet  song,  and  hold  the  rich 
significance  of  its  three  announcements  of 
glory  to  God,  peace  on  earth,  and  good-will 
toward  men.  One  particular  angel,  we  ob- 
serve, seems  to  assume  a  sort  of  leadership  to 
a  company  of  others ;  he  delivers  the  mes- 
sage, and  then  they,  unannounced,  burst  forth 
into  a  strain  of  music.  Gabriel  it  was  who 
brought  prophetic  announcement  of  the  Mes- 
siah to  Daniel ;  the  same  messenger  foretold 


Jesus'  birth  to  his  mother.  From  the  begin- 
ning to  the  end  of  our  Lord's  earthly  career 
do  these  inhabitants  of  heaven  seem  to  walk 
alongside,  just  out  of  sight.  We  discover 
them  ministering  to  him  when  in  the  wilder- 
ness of  temptation ;  they  are  found  strength- 
ening him  under  the  terrible  agony  of  Geth- 
semane ;  the  women  saw  one  sitting  at  the 
head  and  one  at  the  foot  of  the  spot  where 
the  crucified  Saviour  had  lain  in  the  sepul- 
cher.  We  are  given  to  understand  that  an- 
gels are  even  now  all  the  time  God's  messen- 
gers to  the  heirs  of  salvation.  They  are 
coming,  at  the  last  day,  with  Christ  when  he 
advances  to  judgment.  And  in  the  glory  of 
heaven,  while  they  sit  singing  praise  on  the 
mount  of  God,  the  chief  burden  of  their 
happy  hymns  is  joy  over  each  repenting  sin- 
ner. Is  it  not  a  fine  thing  to  have  such 
friends  at  court } 
324  Immanuel.  7S.  D. 

God  with  us  !  oh,  glorious  name ! 
Let  it  shine  in  endless  fame; 
God  and  man  in  Christ  unite ; 
Oh,  mysterious  depth  and  height ! 
God  with  us  !  the  eternal  Son 
Took  our  soul,  our  flesh,  and  bone ; 
Now,  ye  saints,  his  grace  admire, 
Swell  the  song  with  holy  fire. 

2  God  with  us  !  but  tainted  not 
With  the  first  transgressor's  blot ; 
Yet  did  he  our  sins  sustain. 
Bear  the  guilt,  the  curse,  the  pain. 
God  with  us  !  oh,  wondrous  grace  ! 
Let  us  see  him  face  to  face  ; 
That  we  may  Immanuel  sing, 
As  we  ought,  our  God  and  King  ! 

The  hymn  here  given  is  found  in  Dobell's 
collection,  but  there  is  credited  to  Wood's 
collection.  It  has  five  stanzas ;  and  two 
passages  of  the  New  Testament,  Matthew 
1 :  23,  and  I.  Timothy  3:16,  are  annexed  to  it 
as  the  foundation  texts.  The  original  publi- 
cation, so  Mr.  Duffield  says,  was  made  in 
The  Gospel  Magazine,  1779.  Very  little  is 
known  of  the  author,  Sarah  Slinn.  It  is 
likely  that  she  was  an  unmarried  lady,  this 
being  her  maiden  name,  and  that  she  was 
connected  with  the  Church  of  England.  She 
lived  a  century  ago,  and  her  history  is  per- 
petuated among  Christians  by  the  force  of 
one  really  good  hymn. 

At  the  little  upper  window  of  that  lowly  cot- 
tage in  Bedford,  is  to  be  seen,  of  an  evening, 
a  faint  light,  casting  athwart  the  curtain  a  dark, 
deep  shadow,  as  of  a  man  in  deep  thought. 
It  is  Bunyan,  with  his  Bible,  and  his  glowing 
heart,  and  his  magic  pen,  "  sequestering " 
himself  to  his  "  beloved  work  of  setting  forth 
the  glories  of  Immanuel."  Night  after  night 
his  studies  are  protracted  far  into  the  morn- 


ISO 


THE   LORD   JESUS   CHRIST. 


ing,  for  he  does  not  serve  the  Lord  with  that 
which  costs  him  nothing.  Within  the  sixteen 
years  which  elapse  betwixt  his  liberation  and 
his  death,  that  midnight  lamp  witnesses  the 
production  of  not  fewer  than  forty-five  sepa- 
rate works. 


The  Incarnation. 


P.M. 


325 

Cho.— We  march,  we  march  to  victory, 

With  the  cross  of  the  Lord  before  us, 
With  his  loving  eye  looking  down  from  the  sky, 
And  his  holy  arm  spread  o'er  us. 

1  Wk  come  in  the  might  of  the  Lord  of  1/ght, 
With  armor  bright  to  meet  him, 

And  we  put  to  flight  the  armies  of  night 

That  the  sons  of  the  day  may  greet  him.— Cho. 

2  Our  sword  is  the  Spirit  of  God  on  high, 
Our  helmet  his  salvation  ; 

Our  banner  the  cross  of  Calvary, 
Our  watchword— the  Incarnation.— Cho. 

3  And  the  choir  of  angels  with  song  awaits 
Our  march  to  the  golden  Zion  : 

For  our  Captain  has  broken  the  brazen  gates. 
And  burst  the  bars  of  iron. — Cho. 

The  tune  which  carries  these  words  has 
made  the  piece  more  popular  than  it  is  useful. 
It  is  what  is  called  a  "  processional,"  and  for 
that  purpose  it  is  well  designed.  It  was  first 
published  in  The  Church  Times  (English), 
August  19,  1865.  From  the  Episcopal  de- 
nomination it  has  been  transferred,  through 
its  employment  in  the  Sunday-schools,  to  a 
place  in  the  congregations  of  other  names. 
The  tune,  called  "  Incarnation  "  by  some,  and 
"Greatheart"  by  others,  was  composed  by 
Joseph  Barnby,  and  is  spirited,  bright,  and 
characteristic ;  the  hymn  is  full  of  rhythm, 
beating  time  for  itself  with  every  stroke  of  a 
heel  on  a  stone  aisle. 

Rev.  Gerard  Moultrie,  the  author  of  the 
stanzas,  was  born  at  Rugby,  England,  where 
his  father  was  rector  of  the  parish  church, 
September  16,  1829.  His  education  was  re- 
ceived at  Oxford ;  he  was  graduated  from 
Exeter  College,  1851.  Taking  orders  in  the 
Church  of  England,  he  filled  many  important 
positions,  ecclesiastical  and  educational.  In 
1869  he  became  Vicar  of  Southleigh,  where 
he  was  appointed  the  Warden  of  St.  James' 
College,  1873.     He  died  April  25,  1885. 


326 


The  Glad  Tidings. 


IIS,  IDS. 


Cho. — Shout  the  glad  tiding^s,  exultingly  sing  ; 
Jerusalem  triumphs,  Messiah  is  King. 

Zion,  the  marvelous  story  be  telling. 
The  Son  of  the  Highest,  how  lowly  his  birth  ; 

The  brightest  archangel  in  glory  excelling, 

He  stoops  to  redeem  thee,  he  reigns  upon  earth. 
Cho.— Shout  the  glad  tidings,  etc. 

Cho. — Shout  the  glad  tidings,  etc. 
3  Tell  how  he  cometh  ;  from  nation  to  nation. 
The  heart-cheering  news  let  the  earth  echo 
round  ; 


How  free  to  the  faithful  he  offers  salvation  ! 
How  his  people  with  joy  everlasting  are  crowned  • 
Cho.— shout  the  glad  tidings,  etc. 

Cho. — Shout  the  glad  tidings,  etc. 
3  Mortals,  your  homage  be  gratefully  bringing, 

And  sweet  let  the  gladsome  hosanna  arise  ; 
Ye  angels,  the  full  hallelujah  be  singing  ; 
One  chorus  resound  through  the  earth  and  the 
skies. 
Cho. — Shout  the  glad  tidings,  etc. 


REV.    WILLIAM   AUGUSTUS   MUHLENBERG,  D.  D. 

The  Rev.  William  Augustus  Muhlenberg, 
D.  D.,  was  born  in  Philadelphia,  Septem- 
ber 16,  1796;  he  was  graduated  at  the  Uni- 
versity of  Pennsylvania  in  18 14,  and  ulti- 
mately was  ordained  to  the  ministry  in  the 
Protestant  Episcopal  Church  in  1820.  After 
a  successful  career  as  the  rector  of  St.  James' 
Church  in  Lancaster,  Pa.,  and  then  as  princi- 
pal of  St.  Paul's  College  at  Flushing,  L.  I.,  he 
became  rector  of  the  Episcopal  Church  of 
the  Holy  Communion  in  New  York  city,  for 
which  an  edifice  had  been  erected  by  his 
sister.  His  most  notable  public  work  was 
the  founding  of  St.  Luke's  Hospital  in  1859. 
During  the  five  long  and  serious  years  of 
waiting  and  working  needed  for  the  estab- 
lishment and  endowment  of  that  institution, 


INCARNATION    AND    BIRTK. 


151 


it  was  the  zeal  of  Dr.  Muhlenberg  which  kept 
the  project  alive ;  and  at  the  opening  of  the 
building  he  took  the  whole  interests  in  hand. 
He  was  its  fir:>t  pastor  and  superintendent, 
and  he  held  the  offices  until  his  death,  April  8, 
1877. 

Sometimes  this  piece  is  made  to  begin  with 
the  first  line  of  the  opening  stanza :  "  Zion, 
the  marvelous  story  be  telling;"  but  it  prop- 
erly introduces  its  sentiment  with  the  chorus, 
which  is  repeated  with  the  verses  in  turn  at 
the  commencement  and  the  close.  It  resem- 
bles Thomas  Moore's  lyric,  "  Sound  the  loud 
timbrel  o'er  Egypt's  dark  sea,"  which  long 
ago  used  to  be  sung  to  much  the  same  music. 
Dr.  William  A.  Muhlenberg  permitted  it  to 
be  appended  to  the  American  Episcopal 
Book  of  Common  Prayer  in  1826,  It  answers 
well  for  a  Christmas  anthem. 

327  "  The  child  Jesus."  8s,  7s,  7s. 

Once  in  royal  David's  city 

Stood  a  lowly  cattle  shed. 
Where  a  mother  laid  her  Baby, 

III  a  manger  for  his  bed  : 
Mary  was  that  mother  mild, 
Jesus  Christ  her  little  child. 

2  He  came  down  to  earth  from  heaven 
Who  is  God  and  Lord  of  all, 

And  his  shelter  was  a  stable, 
And  his  cradle  was  a  stall ; 
With  the  lowly,  poor,  and  mean, 
Lived  on  earth  our  Saviour  then. 

3  And,  through  all  his  wondrous  childhood. 
He  would  honor  and  obey. 

Love,  and  watch  the  lowly  maiden 

In  whose  gentle  arms  he  lay: 
Christian  children  all  must  be 
Mild,  obedient,  good  as  he. 

4  Qh,  our  eyes  at  last  shall  see  him, 
Through  his  own  redeeming  love, 

For  that  child  so  dear  and  gentle 

Is  our  God  in  heaven  above  ; 
And  he  leads  his  children  on 
To  the  place  where  he  is  gone. 

5  Not  in  that  poor  lowly  stable, 
With  ihe  oxen  standing  by. 

We  shall  see  him  ;  but  in  heaven, 

Set  at  God's  right  hand  on  high  ; 
When  like  stars  his  children  crowned 
All  ill  white  shall  wait  around. 

Mrs.  Cecil  Frances  Alexander  is  the  wife 
of  Rev.  Dr.  William  Alexander,  the  present 
Bishop  of  Derry,  Ireland.  She  was  born  in 
1823;  her  father  was  Major  Humphries,  of 
Strabane.  Her  Hyvtns  for  Little  Children, 
published  in  1848,  endeared  her  to  many 
hearts  ;  this  hymn  is  to  be  found  in  that  vol- 
ume, where  it  appears  with  six  verses.  It 
does  an  excellent  work  wherever  it  goes,  and 
is  welcome  to  mature  as  well  as  to  infantile 
minds.  All  of  her  pieces  are  characterized 
by  a  winning  simplicity  equaled  by  no  wTiter 
since  the  days  of  Watts  and  Jane  Taylor. 


The  picture  of  the  nativity  of  Jesus  offered 
in  this  hymn  is  one  of  the  highest  tenderness 
and  beauty.  For  once  the  mother  of  our 
Lord  comes  into  notice.  The  traditions  re- 
specting Mary  are  numerous.  She  is  said  to 
have  been  the  daughter  of  Joachim,  a  pros- 
perous owner  of  sheep  and  cattle,  and  of  An- 
na, a  daughter  of  the  priest  Matthan  (men- 
tioned in  Matthew  i  :  15),  the  grandfather  of 
Joseph  and  Mary ;  born  when  both  her  pa- 
rents were  old,  and  baptized  by  Peter  and 
John.  It  is  also  stated  that  she  lived  with 
John  till  her  death  at  the  age  of  fifty-nine  (in 
the  fifth  year  of  Claudius),  at  Ephesus,  whith- 
er she  had  followed  her  guardian.  Her  ap- 
pearance and  character  are  thus  described: 
"  She  was  more  given  to  prayer  than  any 
round  her,  brighter  in  the  knowledge  of  God's 
laws,  and  perfectly  humble  ;  delighted  to  sing 
the  psalms  of  David  with  a  melodious  voice, 
and  all  loved  her  for  her  kindness  and  modes- 
ty. She  was  in  all  things  earnest ;  spoke 
little  and  only  what  was  to  the  purpose  ;  was 
very  gentle,  and  showed  respect  and  honor  to 
all.  She  was  of  middle  height,  though  some 
say  she  was  rather  above  it.  She  spoke  to 
all  with  a  prudent  frankness,  soberly,  without 
confusion,  and  always  pleasantly.  She  had  a 
fair  complexion,  blonde  hair,  and  bright  hazel 
eyes.  Her  eyebrows  were  arched  and  dark, 
her  nose  well-proportioned,  her  lips  ruddy, 
and  full  of  kindness  when  she  spoke.  Her 
face  was  long  rather  than  round,  and  her 
hands  and  fingers  were  finely  shaped.  She 
^had  no  pride,  but  was  simple  and  wholly  free 
from  deceit.  Without  effeminacy,  she  was 
far  from  forwardness.  In  her  clothes,  which 
she  herself  made,  she  was  content  with  the 
natural  colors."  The  Romish  dogma  of  her 
immaculate  conception  is  contrary  to  both 
reason  and  Scripture.  If  immaculate,  it  must 
must  have  been  by  special  miracle.  Her  re- 
ply to  the  angel  (Luke  i  :  34)  shows  that  she 
was  aware  of  her  own  natural  lineage,  and 
that  she  expected  offspring  in  no  other  way 
than  that  common  to  Adam's  race.  Her 
words :  "  My  spirit  doth  rejoice  in  God  my 
Saviour,"  are  decisive.  Only  sinners  need  a 
Saviour ;  Mary  proclaimed  herself  a  sinner. 
Our  Lord  on  various  occasions  rebuked  her 
indiscreet  zeal.  Slowness  to  believe,  and  her 
imperfect  conceptions,  prove  that  she  was  on- 
ly on  a  level  with  his  other  disciples.  A  most 
highly  favored  child  of  God,  chosen  to  be  the 
mother  of  the  world's  Redeemer,  blessed  in 
herself,  and  the  means  of  blessing  to  myriads ; 
yet  like  other  human  beings,  and  subject  to 
the  same  conditions  and  laws ;  ever  to  be 
honored,   but   never    to    be    adored.       The 


152 


THE   LORD   JESUS   CHRIST. 


Church  of  Rome  in  worshiping  Mary  is 
guilty  of  rank  idolatry.  "  Thou  shalt  wor- 
ship the  Lord  thy  God  and  him  only." 

328  "  Blessed  Lord!"  8s,  7S,  7s. 

Shout,  O  earth  !  from  silence  waking. 
Tune  with  joy  thy  varied  tongue  ; 

Shout !  as  when  from  chaos  breaking 
Sweetly  flowed  thy  natal  song  : 

Shout !  for  thy  Creator's  love 

Sends  redemption  from  above. 

2  Downward  from  his  star-paved  dwelling 
Comes  the  incarnate  Son  of  God  ; 

Countless  voices,  thrilling,  swelling, 

Tell  the  triumphs  of  his  blood  : 
Shout !  he  comes  thy  tribes  to  bless 
With  his  spotless  righteousness. 

3  See  his  glowing  hand  uplifted  ! 
Clustering  bounties  drop  around  ; 

Rebels  ev'n  are  richly  gifted, 

Pardon,  peace,  and  joy  abound  ! 
Shout,  O  earth  !  and  let  thy  song 
Ring  the  vaulted  heavens  along. 

4  Call  him  blessed  !  on  thy  mountains. 
In  thy  wild  and  citied  plains  ; 

Call  him  blessed  !  where  thy  fountains 

Speak  in  softly  murmuring  strains. 
Let  thy  captives,  let  thy  kings 
Join  the  lyre  of  thousand  strings. 

5  Blessed  Lord,  and  Lord  of  blessing  ! 
Pour  thy  quickening  gifts  abroad  : 

Raptured  tongues,  thy  love  confessing, 

Shall  extol  the  living  God. 
Blessed,  blessed,  blessed  Lord  ! 
Heaven  shall  chant  no  other  word. 

Rev.  William  Henry  Havergal  was  born  at 
High  Wycombe,  Buckinghamshire,  England, 
in  1793,  ^nd  educated  at  Oxford.  He  entered 
the  ministry  after  his  graduation  and  became 
rector  of  Astley,  Worcestershire,  in  1829,  re- 
maining there  until  1842,  when  he  took 
charge  of  a  church  at  Worcester.  In  i860 
he  was  appointed  rector  of  Shareshill,  near 
Wolverhampton.  From  1845  he  was  hon- 
orary canon  of  Worcester  cathedral.  He 
wrote  nearly  one  hundred  hymns,  many  of 
them  designed  for  special  services  and  printed 
singly  as  leaflets.  These  are  of  value;  but 
their  author  will  be  also  remembered  for  his 
musical  attainments,  having  composed,  be- 
sides many  tunes  and  chants,  several  anthems 
and  an  entire  service.  This  hymn  was  first 
published  in  1849  in  the  Worcester /'j-fl/;«.y 
and  Hymns.  Canon  Havergal  was  the  father 
of  Frances  Ridley  Havergal,  whose  poems 
are  endeared  to  so  many  Christians  both  in 
Europe  and  America.  He  died  at  Leaming- 
ton, April  18,  1870. 


329 


"  7%!?  new-born  King." 


8s,  7s,  4s. 


Angels,  from  the  realms  of  glory. 
Wing  your  flight  o'er  all  the  earth  ; 

Ye  who  sang  creation's  story, 
Now  proclaim  Messiah's  birth: 

Come  and  worship — 
Worship  Christ,  the  new-born  King. 


2  Shepherds  in  the  field  abiding. 
Watching  o'er  your  flocks  by  night, 

God  with  man  is  now  residing; 
Yonder  shines  the  infant  light: 

Come  and  worship — 
Worship  Christ,  the  new-born  King. 

3  Sages,  leave  your  contemplations — 
Brighter  visions  beam  aftr  : 

Seek  the  great  Desire  of  nations: 
Ye  have  seen  his  natal  star: 

Come  and  worship — 
Worship  Christ,  the  new-born  King. 

4  Saints,  before  the  altar  bending. 
Watching  long  in  hope  and  fear, 

Suddenly  the  Lord,  descending, 
In  his  temple  shall  appear  : 

Come  and  worship — 
Worship  Christ,  the  new-born  King. 

5  Sinners,  wrung  with  true  repentance. 
Doomed  for  guilt  to  endless  pains. 

Justice  now  revokes  the  sentence — 
Mercy  calls  you— break  your  chains: 

Come  and  worship — 
Worship  Christ,  the  new-born  King. 

"  Good  Tidings  of  Great  Joy  to  all  People" 
is  the  title  to  this  piece  as  it  appears  in  James 
Montgomery's  Original  Hymns,  1853.  It  is 
one  of  the  best  of  his  poems,  full  of  dignity 
and  force,  with  a  grand  sweep  of  thought 
cast  in  magnificent  imagery,  all  to  the  praise 
of  God. 

What  were  the  actual  words  of  this  angels' 
song  ?  It  is  well  that  we  all  recollect  them — 
"  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth 
peace,  good-will  toward  men  !"  From  a  sin- 
gle form  of  expression  employed  here,  and 
coming  along  the  ages  through  the  Latin 
Vulgate  version,  has  been  named  an  unin- 
spired chant,  one  of  the  noblest  in  history — 
the  Gloria  in  Excelsis — given  us  by  the  Greek 
Church  somewhere  about  300  A.  D.  —  three 
stanzas  in  one  hymn.  The  first  of  them, 
and  the  foremost  in  thought,  is  ''Glory  to  God 
in  the  highest."  This  is  not  a  prayer  at  all, 
but  an  ascription.  It  was  no  time  to  be  ask- 
ing that  God  be  glorified  when  the  whole 
universe  was  quivering  with  the  new  disclos- 
ure of  a  Gloria  in  Excelsis  such  as  blind  men 
could  see  and  deaf  men  could  hear.  Those 
angels  did  not  pray.  Glory  be  to  God  ;  but 
they  exclaimed.  Glory  is  to  God  in  the  high- 
est, in  the  highest !  And  then  they  rush  rap- 
idly into  an  enumeration  of  particulars ;  the 
connection  of  thought  is  close.  Glory  to  God 
is  in  the  highest,  because  peace  has  come  on 
the  earth,  and  good-will  has  already  gone  out 
toward  men.  These  angels  are  making  pro- 
clamation that  the  rebellious  race  is  for  ever- 
more subdued.  Men  should  be  redeemed ; 
sin  shoiild  be  positively  checked ;  all  the  ills 
of  a  worn-out  and  wretched  existence  should 
be  banished ;  poverty  should  be  removed, 
sickness  and    death   find    a  master;    Satan 


INCARNATION   AND    BIRTH. 


153 


should  be  foiled  by  Immanuel  in  person. 
Hence  the  vision  which  flashed  on  their 
awakened  intelligence  and  started  their  song 
was  reversive  and  revolutionary.  The  earth 
seemed  to  rouse  itself  to  a  new  being. 
Cursed  for  human  sin,  it  saw  its  deliverance 
coming.  The  day  had  arrived  when  streams 
and  lakes  of  crystal  should  gleam  in  the  sun- 
shine, when  the  valleys  should  smile  and 
laugh  and  sing,  when  flowers  should  bloom 
and  stars  should  glitter — all  to  the  glory  of 
God  in  the  highest ! 

330  Christ's  coming.  8s,  7s,  4s. 

Jesus  came,  the  heavens  adoring. 

Came  with  peace  from  realms  on  high  ; 
Jesus  came  for  man's  reileniption. 

Lowly  came  on  earth  to  die  ; 
Hallelujah!  Hallelujah! 

Came  in  deep  humility. 

2  Jesus  comes  again  in  mercy. 

When  our  hearts  are  bowed  with  care  ; 
Jesus  comes  again  in  answer 
To  an  earnest  heartfelt  prayer  ; 

Hallelujah  !  Hallelujah  ! 
Comes  to  save  us  from  despair. 

3  Jesus  comes  to  hearts  rejoicing, 
Bringing  news  of  sins  forgiven  ; 

Jesus  comes  in  sounds  of  gladness, 
Leading  souls  redeemed  to  heaven  ; 

Hallelujah  !  Hallelujah ! 
Now  the  gate  of  death  is  riven. 

4  Jesus  comes  in  joy  and  sorrow. 
Shares  alike  our  hopes  and  fears  ; 

Jesus  comes,  whate'er  befalls  us. 

Glads  our  hearts,  and  dries  our  tears ; 

Hallelujah !  Hallelujah  ! 
Cheering  ev'n  our  failing  years. 

5  Jesus  comes  on  clouds  triutjiphant. 
When  the  heavens  shall  pass  away; 

Jesus  comes  again  in  glory  ; 
Let  us  then  our  homage  pay. 

Hallelujah !  ever  singing. 
Till  the  dawn  of  endless  day. 

This  hymn  was  written  by  the  Rev.  God- 
frey Thring  in  1862.  Its  purpose  seems  to 
be  to  show  how  many  ways  there  may  be  for 
interpreting  what  the  Scriptures  say  concern- 
ing the  second  coming  of  our  Lord.  Jesus 
came  at  Bethlehem ;  he  comes  now  to  his 
people  when  they  pray  to  him,  by  a  genuine 
answer  of  help ;  he  comes  in  revival  times 
with  pardon  for  sins  and  news  of  advance ; 
he  comes  spiritually  to  the  believer  in  all  his 
moods  and  exposures ;  he  is  going  to  come 
finally  in  the  clouds  of  heaven  when  the  end- 
less day  shall  dawn.  As  one  of  the  speakers 
at  a  great  meeting  in  London  said  on  the 
platform :  "  Jesus  has  been  coming  all  the 
time  ever  since  he  went  away !" 

331  Adeste,  Fideles.  P.M. 

Oh,  come,  all  ye  faithful. 

Joyfully  triumphant, 
To  Bethlehem  hasten  now  with  glad  accord ; 

Lo  !  in  a  manger 

Lies  the  King  of  angels  ; 
Oh,  come,  let  us  adore  him,  Christ  the  Lord. 


2  Raise,  raise,  choirs  of  angels, 
Songs  of  loudest  triumph. 

Through  heaven's  high  arches  be  your  praises 
poured  : 

Now  to  our  God  be 

Glory  in  the  highest ; 
Oh,  come,  let  us  adore  him,  Christ  the  Lord. 

3  Amen  !  Lord,  we  bless  thee. 
Born  for  our  salvation, 

O  Jesus !  for  ever  be  thy  name  adored  ; 

Word  of  the  Father, 

Late  in  flesh  appearing  ; 
Oh,  come,  let  us  adore  him,  Christ  the  Lord. 

This  version  of  the  Adeste,  fideles,  attrib- 
uted to  the  seventeenth  or  eighteenth  century, 
is  usually  given  to  Rev.  William  Mercer.  But 
a  careful  criticism,  following  it  around  through 
the  various  hymnals  now  in  use,  would  reach 
the  conclusion  that  it  was  the  work  of  many 
hands.  Very  likely  Mercer  found  an  old 
form  of  rendering  and  changed  it  with  per- 
fect freedom,  and  then  with  equal  frankness 
others  altered  his,  and  so  the  present  compo- 
sition grew  apace.  Rev.  Frederick  Oakeley 
stands  as  the  next  in  the  line  of  competition ; 
and  then  certain  very  essential  changes  were 
made  by  the  compilers  of  Hymns,  Ancient 
and  Modern.  Even  our  most  industrious 
and  indefatigable  friend,  Rev.  Samuel  Wil- 
loughby  Duffield,  does  not  seem  to  have 
found  out  who  made  the  Latin  hymn ;  he 
goes  no  further  than  to  say  that  "  the  original 
is  sometimes  ascribed  to  Bonaventura." 

Concerning  the  tune  with  which  this  com- 
position is  for  ever  associated  it  is  worth  while 
to  give  a  bit  of  information.  Many  years 
ago  the  writer  of  these  annotations  received 
from  Brazil  a  printed  card  on.  which  was 
published  the  following  statement,  which  he 
has  since  tried  to  verify,  and  which  he  has 
every  reason  now  to  regard  as  true.  This 
"  Portuguese  hymn  "  was  the  musical  compo- 
sition of  a  chapel-master  of  the  King  of  Por- 
tugal. His  name  was  Marcas  Portugal,  and 
he  died  at  Rio  Janeiro  early  in  the  present 
century.  The  piece  was  originally  played  in 
the  service  as  an  offertory.  The  American 
missionary.  Dr.  Fletcher,  who  has  interested 
himself  much  in  fixing  the  authorship  of  it, 
gives  the  date  of  Marcas  Portugal's  death  as 
1834. 

332  The  Glad  Song.  8s,  7s. 

Hark,  the  hosts  of  heaven  are  singing 
Praises  to  their  new-born  Lord, 

Strains  of  sweetest  music  flinging, 
Not  a  note  or  word  unheard. 

2  On  this  night,  all  nights  excelling, 
God's  high  praises  sounded  forth, 

While  the  angels'  songs  were  telling 
Of  the  Lord's  mysterious  birth. 

3  Through  the  darkness,  strangely  splendid, 
Flashed  the  light  on  shepherds'  eyes; 

As  their  lowly  flocks  they  tended. 
Came  new  tidings  from  the  skies. 


154 


THE  LORD  JESUS  CHRIST. 


4  All  the  hosts  of  heaven  are  chanting 
Songs  with  power  to  stir  and  thrill, 

And  the  universe  is  panting 
Joy's  deep  longings  to  fulfill. 

5  On  this  day  then  through  creation 
Let  the  glorious  hymn  ring  out ; 

Let  men  hail  the  great  salvation, 
"  God  with  us,"  with  song  and  shout. 


DR.    E.    H.    PLUMPTRE. 

Rev.  Edward  Hayes  Plumptre,  D.  D.,  au- 
thor of  many  excellent  hymns,  was  born  in 
London,  August  6,  1821,  and  educated  at 
King's  College,  London,  and  University  Col- 
lege, Oxford.  He  graduated  with  high  hon- 
ors, and  soon  after  his  entrance  into  clerical 
life  in  18^6  he  rose  to  eminence  both  as 
preacher  and  theologian.  He  was  called  to 
fill  many  ver)'  important  positions,  having 
been  Dean  of  Queen's  College,  Oxford; 
Prebendar)'  in  St.  Paul's  Cathedral,  London; 
member  of  the  committee  appointed  to  revise 
the  Old  Testament ;  rector  of  Pluckley ;  and 
vicar  of  Bickley,  until  in  1881  he  became 
Dean  of  Bath  and  Wells.  Dr.  Plumptre's 
literary  productions  have  covered  a  wide 
range,  including  the  classics,  histor^^  biblical 
criticism,  biography,  and  poetry.  He  made 
translations  from  ytschylus,  Sophocles,  and 
Dante.  As  a  hymn-writer  he  ranks  very 
high,  his  works  being  elegant  in  style  and 
full  of  fer\nd  sincerity.  Many  of  his  pieces 
are  widely  used,  and  deal  especially  with  the 
church  life  of  the  present  day.  He  died  at 
the  Deanery,  Wells,  February  i,  1891. 


333 


The  Word  made  flesh. 


P.M. 


Christ  is  bom  ;  tell  forth  his  fame  ! 
Christ  from  heaven  ;  his  love  proclaim ; 
Christ  on  earth  :  exalt  his  name ! 
Sing  to  the  Lord,  O  world,  with  exultation  ; 
Break  forth  in  glad  thanksgiving,  every  nation  : 
For  he  hath  triumphed  gloriously ! 


2  Man  in  God's  own  image  made, 
Man,  by  Satan's  wiles  betrayed, 
Man,  on  whom  corruption  preyed, 

Shut  out  from  hope  of  life  and  of  salvation, 
To-day  Christ  maketh  him  a  new  creation  ; 
For  he  hath  triumphed  gloriously  ! 

3  He,  the  Wisdom,  Word,  and  Might  I 
God,  and  Son,  and  Light  of  Light ; 
Undiscovered  by  the  sight 

Of  earthly  monarch  or  infernal  spirit, 
Incarnate  was  that  we  should  heaven  inherit: 
For  he  hath  triumphed  gloriously  ! 

The  original  of  this  hymn  was  composed 
by  St.  Cosmas,  one  of  the  principal  Greek 
ecclesiastical  poets,  who  died  about  760,  A.  D. 
It  is  the  first,  and  the  best  known,  of  eight 
odes  or  hymns  intended  for  the  sen-ice  on 
Christmas  day,  and  was  translated  into  Eng- 
lish by  Dr.  John  Mason  Neale  for  his  Hymns 
of  the  Eastern  Church,  1862.  Since  then  it 
has  been  included  in  many  collections,  and 
different  versions  of  it  have  been  made,  al- 
though the  one  here  qiloted  is  regarded  as 
the  best. 

334  ''Those  holy  Voices."  8s,  7s. 

Hark  !  what  mean  those  holy  voices. 

Sweetly  warbling  in  the  skies? 
Sure,  the  angelic  host  rejoices — 

Loudest  hallelujahs  rise. 

2  Listen  to  the  wondrous  story 
Which  they  chant  in  hymns  of  joy — 

"  Glory  in  the  highest,  gior\- ; 
Glory  be  to  God  most  high  ! 

3  "  Peace  on  earth,  good-will  from  heaven, 
Reaching  far  as  man  is  found  ; 

Souls  redeemed  and  sins  forgiven — 
Loud  our  golden  harps  shall  sound. 

4  "  Christ  is  born,  the  great  Anointed  ; 
Heaven  and  earth  his  glory  sing : 

Glad  receive  whom  God  appointed, 
For  your  Prof>het,  Priest,  and  King. 

5  "  Hasten,  mortals  !  to  adore  him, 
Learn  his  name  and  taste  his  joy ; 

Till  in  heaven  you  sing  before  him. 
Glory  be  to  God  most  high  !" 

The  original  of  this  hymn,  the  most  popular 
and  perhaps  the  best  of  all  the  compositions 
of  Rev.  John  Cawood,  can  be  found  in  Lyra 
Britannica,  where  it  appears  with  six  stanzas. 
It  was  first  published  in  Cotterill's  Selection, 
1819. 

In  the  account  which  the  listening  shep- 
herds gave  concerning  the  matchless  music 
they  heard  on  that  eventful  night,  they  men- 
tioned only  the  words ;  one  might  be  par- 
doned for  wishing  they  had  brought  also  the 
score !  We  all  know  how  an  interesting 
strain  of  melody  will  fix  itself  in  our  mem- 
ories ;  sometimes  we  can  hardly  keep  from 
humming  it  over,  repeating  snatches  of  it  we 
have  caught,  and  rehearsing  to  others  the 
way  it  went,  so  as  to  give  an  idea.  It  may 
be  that  the  shepherds  remembered  parts  of 


INCARNATION   AND   BIRTH. 


155 


this ;  but  if  so,  we  have  no  means  of  ascer- 
taining it.  Only  the  words  reach  us ;  but 
they  are  well  worth  the  study  of  the  world. 
The  startling  abruptness  with  which  this  se- 
raphic anthem  fell  on  the  ears  of  the  herdsmen 
that  first  Christmas  night  adds  greatly  to  the 
dramatic  effect  of  the  scene;  Hardly  linger- 
ing for  their  leader  to  end  his  communication, 
that  choir  of  singers  "  suddenly"  burst  forth 
in  one  loud  volume  of  exquisite  harmony, 
celebrating  the  praises  of  Jehovah,  whom 
they  saw  in  a  fresh  field  of  splendid  display. 
There  was  a  vast  number  of  singers — "  a 
host ;"  that  is  to  say,  an  army,  "  an  army  cel- 
ebrating a  peace." 

Surely  there  was  enough  to  inspire  their 
music ;  and  great  armies  of  voices  sing  to- 
gether quite  often  with  immense  power  of 
rich  and  voluminous  harmony.  It  was  an 
exaggeration,  no  doubt,  but  ancient  history 
gravely  records  that,  when  the  invader  of 
Macedon  was  finally  expelled,  the  victorious 
Greeks  who  heard  the  news,  and  so  learned 
that  freedom  had  come  and  fighting  was  over 
and  home  was  near,  raised  along  the  military 
lines  and  throughout  the  camp  such  a  shout 
of  Soter  !  Soier  !  —  a  Saviour  !  a  Saviour !  — 
that  birds  on  the  wing  dropped  down.  It 
may  even  have  been  so ;  but  what  was  that 
little  peninsula  of  Greece  as  compared  with 
this  entire  race  redeemed  from  Satan  unto 
God! 


335 


'Star  of  the  East." 


IIS,  lOS. 


Brightest  an<i  best  of  the  sons  of  the  morning  ! 

Dawn  on  our  darkness  and  lend  us  thine  aid  ; 
Star  of  the  East,  the  horizon  adorning, 

Guide  where  our  infant  Redeemer  is  laid. 

2  Cold  on  his  cradle  the  dew-drops  are  shining ; 
Low  lies  his  head  with  the  beasts  of  the  stall: 

Angels  adore  him,  in  slumber  reclining. 
Maker,  and  Monarch,  anil  Saviour  of  all ! 

3  Say  shall  we  yield  hitu,  in  costly  devotion, 
Odors  of  Edom  and  offerings  divine  ? 

Gems  of  the  mountains,  and  pearls  of  the  ocean, 
Myrrh  from  the  forest,  or  gold  from  the  mine? 

4  Vainly  we  offer  each  ample  oblation, 
Vainly  with  gold  would  nis  favor  secure: 

Richer,  by  far,  is  the  heart's  adoration  ; 
Dearer  to  God  are  the  prayers  of  the  poor. 

5  Brightest  and  best  of  the  sons  of  the  morning  ! 
Dawn  on  our  darkness  and  lend  us  thine  aid  ; 

Star  of  the  East,  the  horizon  adorning. 
Guide  where  our  infant  Redeemer  is  laid. 

Another  of  the  fine  anthem-pieces  con- 
tributed to  the  services  of  praise  of  all  the 
churches  by  Reginald  Heber,  the  English 
Bishop  of  Calcutta.  He  wrote  it,  however, 
before  he  had  reached  his  preferment,  when 
he  was  the  rector  of  Hodnet,  in  181 1.  It 
appeared  in  the  Christian  Observer  in  a 
series  designed  for  the  Sundays  and  principal 


holy  days  of  the  year,  connected  in  some 
degree  with  their  particular  collects  and  gos- 
pels, and  intended  to  be  sung  between  the 
Nicene  Creed  and  the  sermon.  It  is  inter- 
esting to  learn  from  the  poet's  own  words 
that  in  these  pieces  "  no  fulsome  or  indecor- 
ous language  has  been  knowingly  adopted ; 
no  erotic  addresses  to  him  whom  no  unclean 
lips  can  approach  ;  no  allegory,  ill-understood 
and  worse  applied."  And  it  is  recorded  in 
his  biography  that  after  he  had  reached  India 
he  spent  one  Christmas,  that  of  1824,  at 
Meerut,  where  on  December  19  he  dedicated 
a  church  ;  and  then  he  had  the  satisfaction 
of  hearing  this  hymn,  which  was  designed 
for  Epiphany,  and  another  designed  for  St. 
Stephen's  Day,  "  sung  better  than  he  ever 
heard  them  before."  Its  title  is  "  Star  of  the 
East."  Dr.  Cunningham  Geikie  says  some 
things  worth  recalling  in  one  of  his  comments 
upon  the  passage  of  Scripture  to  which  it 
refers  : 

"  The  stars  were  supposed  then,  as  they 
have  been  till  recent  times,  to  exercise  supreme 
influence  over  human  life  and  the  course  of 
nature,  and  from  this  belief  a  vast  system  of 
imaginary  results  was  elaborated.  The  posi- 
tion of  the  stars  at  a  child's  birth  was  held  to 
determine  its  future  fate  or  fortune,  and  hence 
to  cast  nativities  early  became  one  of  the  most 
important  functions  of  astrologers.  It  was 
universally  believed  that  extraordinary  events, 
especially  the  birth  and  death  of  great  men, 
were  heralded  by  appearances  of  stars,  and 
still  more  by  comets,  or  by  conjunctions,  of 
the  heavenly  bodies.  Thus  Suetonius  tells 
us  that  at  the  death  of  Caesar  '  a  hairy  star 
shone  continuously  for  seven  days,  rising 
about  the  eleventh  hour ;'  and  Josephus  re- 
lates that  for  a  whole  year  before  the  fall  of 
Jerusalem  a  star,  in  the-  shape  of  a  sword, 
hung  over  the  doomed  city.  A  hundred  and 
thirty  years  after  Christ's  birth  a  false  Mes- 
siah, in  Hadrian's  reign,  assumed  the  title  of 
Bar-Cocheba  —  '  the  son  of  the  star '  —  in 
allusion  to  the  star  to  come  out  of  Jacob. 
The  Jews  had  already,  long  before  Christ's 
day,  dabbled  in  astrology  and  the  various 
forms  of  magic  which  became  connected 
with  it." 

336  " Daughter  of  Zion  !"  iis,  los. 

Daughter  of  Zion  !  awake  from  thy  sadness: 
Awake,  for  thy  foes  shall  oppress  thee  no  more ; 

Bright  o'er  thy  hills  dawns  the  day-star  of  gladness; 
Arise  !  for  the  night  of  thy  sorrow  is  o'er. 

2  Strong  were  thy  foes,  but  the  arm  that  subdued  them. 
And  scattered  their  legions,  was  mightier  far ; 

They  fled  like  the  chaff  from  the  scourge  that  pursued 
them ; 
For  vain  were  their  steeds  and  their  chariots  of  warl 


156 


THE  LORD  JESUS  CHRIST. 


3  Daughter  of  Zion  !  the  Power  that  hath  saved  thee, 
Extolled  with  the  harp  and  the  timbrel  should  be  : 

Shout !  for  the  foe  is  destroyed  that  enslaved  thee, 
Th'  oppressor  is  vanquished,  and  Zion  is  free  ! 

In  the  Church  Psalmody  published  in  1831, 
this  poem  is  attributed  to  Fitzgerald' s  Collec- 
tion, 1830,  and  the  same  conclusion  has  been 
reached  by  several  other  compilers.  The 
piece  appeared  in  Dr.  Hastings'  Spiritual 
Songs,  1833;  but  it  was  not  written  by  Dr. 
Hastings,  as  a  careful  index  of  his  many 
hundred  hymns  proves.  It  is  probably  of 
American  origin ;  and  indeed  the  fact  is  in- 
explicable how  all  the  publication  and  all  the 
use  of  the  music  for  sixty  years  should  alike 
have  failed  to  evoke  the  name  of  the  author. 

337  The  Morning  Star.  P.  M. 

How  brightly  shines  the  Morning  Star ! 
What  ray  divine  streams  from  afar ! 

God's  glory  there  is  shining. 
Bright  beam  of  God  !  which  scatters  night, 
And  guides  the  wandering  soul  aright 

Which  after  truth  is  pining  : 
Jesus  !  God's  Word  !  truth  revealing, 
Sorrow  healing,  soothe  our  sighing, 
Dry  our  tears,  and  end  our  dying. 

2  My  comfort  here,  my  joy  above, 
Man's  son,  son  of  the  Father's  love. 

Enthroned  in  highest  heaven, 
With  my  whole  heart  thy  praise  I  sing ; 
To  thee,  our  Prophet,  Priest,  and  King, 

Be  endless  honors  given. 
Saviour,  to  thee,  trusting,  clinging. 
Come  I  bringing  soul  and  spirit, 
Thee,  my  portion,  to  inherit. 

3  Aid  me,  my  God,  to  sing  thy  praise, 
Thine  ageless  love,  thy  matchless  g:race. 

In  Christ  our  Lord  appearing. 
When  such  a  gift  God  gave  for  thee, 
When  such  a  brother  true  is  he. 

Why  still,  my  soul,  be  fearing? 
Choose  him,  know  him,  greatest,  dearest, 
Best,  and  nearest,  to  befriend  thee 
'Gainst  all  foes  who  may  offend  thee. 

4  To  him  who  conquered  death  and  hell. 
To  him  let  joyous  anthems  swell 

Throughout  heaven's  great  for  ever. 
Praise  to  the  Lamb  that  once  was  slain, 
Glory  to  him  who  bore  our  pain. 

Flow  on,  an  endless  river! 
Earth  and  heaven— creatures  lowly. 
Angels  holy—join  your  voices. 
Till  the  world  with  praise  rejoices. 

5  Rejoice,  ye  heavens;  thou,  earth,  reply: 
With  praise,  ye  sinners,  fill  the  sky. 

For  this,  his  incarnation. 
Incarnate  God,  put  forth  thy  power. 
Ride  on,  ride  on,  great  Conqueror, 

Till  all  know  thy  salvation. 
Amen,  amen :  hallelujah  ! 
Hallelujah !  praise  be  given 
Evermore  by  earth  and  heaven ! 

Rev.  John  Morrison  Sloan,  M.  A.,  son  of  a 
Scotch  farmer,  was  born  in  Ayrshire,  May  19, 
1835,  and  studied  at  the  universities  of  Glas- 
gow, Edinburgh,  and  Erlangen,  Germany, 
graduating  at  Edinburgh  in  1859.  Five  years 
later  he  became  collegiate  minister  of  the 
Free  Church  in  Dalkeith,  and  afterward  was 


settled  over  Free  Churches  in  Aberdeen  and 
Glasgow ;  he  is  at  present  a  pastor  in  Edin- 
burgh. He  has  made  several  translations 
from  the  German,  the  most  v>idely  known 
being  the  one  given  above.  This  was  pub- 
lished in  Wilson's  Seniicc  of  Praise,  1865. 
It  is  a  version  of  the  German  hymn  begin- 
ning, "  Wie  herrlich  strahlt  dcr  Morgen- 
stern."  The  original  was  first  given  to  the 
public  in  1 766,  and  was  entitled,  "  Longing 
After  Union  with  Jesus,  on  the  Model  of  the 
old  hymn,  '  Wie  schon  leiichtet  der  Morgen- 
sterjt.'  "  This  last  is  the  well-known  compo- 
sition of  Philipp  Nicolai.  Dr.  Johann  Adolf 
Schlegel,  author  of  the  German  original  of 
the  poem  before  us,  was  born  at  Meissen  in 
Saxony,  September  17,  1721.  In  1754  he 
became  chief  pastor  of  the  Holy  Trinity 
Church  at  Zerbst.  He  died  at  Hannover, 
September  16,  1793. 


338 


"Hail  the  Star, 


P.M. 


All  my  heart  this  night  rejoices. 
As  I  hear,  far  and  near. 
Sweetest  angel  voices ; 
"Christ  is  born  !"  their  choirs  are  singing. 
Till  the  air  every-where 
Now  with  joy  is  ringing. 

2  For  it  dawns,  the  promised  morrow 
Of  his  birth,  who  the  earth 

Rescues  from  her  sorrow. 
God  to  wear  our  form  descendeth  ; 
Of  his  grace  to  our  race 
Here  his  Son  he  lendeth. 

3  Hark  !  a  voice  from  yonder  manger 
Soft  and  sweet  doth  entreat — 

Flee  from  woe  and  danger ; 
Brethren,  come;  from  all  that  grieves  you 
You  are  freed ;  all  you  need 
Here  your  Saviour  gives  you. 

4  Come,  then,  let  us  hasten  yonder; 
Here  let  all,  great  and  small, 

Kneel  in  awe  and  wonder. 
Love  him  who  with  love  is  yearning; 
Hail  the  Star  that  from  far 
Bright  with  hope  is  burning. 

This  hymn  was  originally  written  by  Rev. 
Paul  Gerhardt  in  1653.  It  begins  :  "  Warum 
sollt' ich  mich  denn  gramett?"  Miss  Cath- 
erine Winkworth  gave  it  its  English  dress, 
and  it  was  published  in  Lyra  Germanica, 
1858.  It  is  always  difficult  to  say  which 
should  be  credited  with  a  new  hymn,  the 
author  or  the  translator,  for  generally  a  good 
version  needs  and  exhibits  as  much  genius  as 
a  good  poem  ;  and  there  remains  the  fact  that 
the  first  draft  would  never  have  seen  the  light 
in  another  language  without  the  aid  of  one 
who  could  paraphrase  it  there  in  fitting  form 
for  public  use.  So  we,  having  done  jus- 
tice to  Miss  Winkworth  in  another  connec- 
tion, choose  to  give  here  some  account  of 
Paul  Gerhardt,  several  of   whose  very  best 


INCARNATION    AND    BIRTH. 


'57 


REV.  PAUL  GERHARDT. 

hymns  have  found  their  way  into  American 
hymnals. 

Rev.  Paul  Gerhardt  was  born  in  GrSfen- 
haynchen,  Saxony,  March  12,  1607.  He 
studied  at  Wittenberg,  and  when  quite  on  in 
micfdle  life  was  chosen  as  a  preacher  to  the 
congregation  in  Mittenwalde.  Six  years  later 
he  was  transferred  to  the  Church  of  St.  Nico- 
las in  Berlin,  but  a  refusal  to  subscribe  to 
certain  edicts  which  he  considered  as  attempts 
to  unite  the  Lutheran  and  Reformed  parties 
caused  his  dismissal  in  1666.  He  was  made 
Archdeacon  of  Liibben  in  1668.  He  was 
the  best  of  all  the  hymn-makers  of  Germany, 
the  most  spiritual  and  the  most  popular  in 
the  age  in  which  he  lived.  He  managed  in 
his  songs  to  keep  the  doctrinal  force  of  evan- 
gelical truth  without  harshness ;  his  rhyth- 
mical power  was  great,  and  common  people 
understood  his  verses  easily,  singing  them 
with  a  heartfelt  enthusiasm.  He  died  at  Liib- 
ben, June  7,  1676. 


339 


"  God  Incarnate.' 


los.  61. 


Christians,  awake,  salute  the  happy  morn 
Whereon  the  Saviour  of  the  worla  was  born ; 
Rise  to  adore  the  mysterj'  of  love 
Which  hosts  of  angels  chanted  from  above ; 
With  them  the  joyful  tidings  first  begun 
Of  God  incarnate  and  the  virgin's  Son. 

2  With  burst  of  music  the  celestial  choir 
In  hymns  of  joy,  unknown  before,  conspire; 
The  praises  of  redeeming  love  they  sang. 
And  heaven's  whole  arch  with  hallelujahs  rang: 
God's  highest  glory  was  their  anthem  still, 
Peace  upon  earth,  and  unto  men  good-will. 


3  Oh,  may  we  keep  and  ponder  in  our  mind 
God's  wondrous  love  in  saving  lost  mankind. 
Trace  we  the  babe,  who  hath  retrieved  our  loss, 
From  his  poor  manger  to  his  bitter  cross; 
Treading  his  steps,  assisted  by  his  grace, 

Till  man's  first  heavenly  state  again  takes  place. 

4  Then  may  we  hope,  the  angelic  thrones  among, 
To  sing,  redeemed,  a  glad  triumphal  song; 

He,  that  was  born  upon  this  joyful  day. 
Around  us  all  his  glory  shall  display  ; 
Saved  by  his  love,  incessant  we  shall  sing 
Eternal  praise  to  heaven's  Almighty  King. 

This  is  found  in  the  second  volume  of 
John  Byrom's  Miscellaneous  Poems,  1773, 
where  it  is  entitled  "  A  Hymn  for  Christmas 
Day."  The  author  was  the  son  of  a  linen- 
draper,  and  was  born  near  Manchester,  Eng- 
land, in  a  small  town  called  Kersall,  some 
time  in  1691.  He  was  educated  at  Trinity 
College,  where  he  afterwards  became  a  Fel- 
low. He  began  study  for  the  medical  profes- 
sion, but  gave  up  the  plan ;  then  set  himself 
up  as  a  teacher  of  a  system  of  shorthand.  He 
tried  to  marry  his  cousin  Elizabeth,  but  his 
wealthy  relatives  objected  to  the  match,  and 
so  for  some  years  he  had  to  work  hard  for  a 
subsistence.  By-and-by,  however,  he  suc- 
ceeded to  the  family  estate  at  Kersall.  and 
there  he  died,  September  28,  1763,  with  the 
kind  regards  of  all  who  knew  him. 

Throughout  his  life  this  author  was  asso- 
ciated with  the  Wesleys,  though  the  intense 
earnestness  of  the  lives  and  beliefs  of  the 
Methodist  preachers  scarcely  accorded  wfth 
the  philosophy  of  him  whose  rule  was  "  to  be 
quiet  and  happy  and  let  the  world  go."  His 
early  religious  convictions  separated  him  from 
the  sympathy  and  companionship  of  the  cler- 
gy of  his  day  ;  so  he  resigned  his  fellowship, 
and  with  it  his  prospects  for  church  honors 
and  advancement.  He  entered  upon  a  liter- 
ary life,  writing  for  The  Spectator,  and  trans- 
lating pieces  from  the  French  and  German 
mystics.  For  his  recreation  he  wrote  hymns 
also,  in  a  smooth  and  flowing  style ;  one  of 
the  best  of  them  being  this  one  before  us, 
which  is  a  favorite  and  in  almost  universal  use 
throughout  England.  Some  of  his  epigrams 
have  reached  down  even  to  our  day.  For  he 
is  the  man  who  wrote  those  funny  lines  con- 
cerning Handel  and  Bononcini : 

"  strange  all  this  difference  should  be 
'Twixt  tweedledum  and  tweedledee." 

He  was,  no  doubt,  a  queer  man,  but  he 
must  have  been  a  good  one.  He  was  asso- 
ciated with  good  people,  and  helped  wher- 
ever he  could.  He  taught  Charles  Wesley  to 
use  stenography  in  writing  his  sermons  and 
hymns.  When  these  founders  of  Methodism 
brought  out  their  book  of  sacred  songs,  By- 


158 


THE   LORD   JESUS   CHRIST. 


rom's  judicious  criticism  and  kindly  advice 
greatly  aided  them  in  the  work.  The  per- 
sonal appearance  of  this  man  is  worth  record- 
ing. He  is  said  to  have  been  extremely  tall ; 
he  carried  a  stick  with  a  crooked  top,  and  he 
wore  "  a  curious  low  -  polled,  slouched  hat, 
from  under  the  long-peaked  front  brim  of 
which  his  benignant  face  bent  forward  a 
cautiously  inquisitive  sort  of  look,  as  if  he 
were  in  the  habit  of  prj'ing  into  everything, 
without  caring  to  let  everything  enter  deeply 
into  him." 

340  The  Birth  at  Bethlehem.  P.  M. 

Holy  night !  peaceful  night ! 
Through  the  darkness  beams  a  light 
Yonder,  where  they  sweet  vigils  keep 
O'er  the  Babe,  who,  in  silent  sleep, 
Rests  in  heavenly  peace. 

2  Silent  night !  holiest  night ! 
Darkness  flies  and  all  is  light ! 
Shepherds  hear  the  angels  sing — 
"  Hallelujah  !  hail  the  King! 

Jesus  Cfhrist  is  here!" 

3  Silent  night !  holiest  night ! 
Guiding  Star,  oh,  lend  thy  light ! 
See  the  eastern  wise  men  bring 
Gifts  and  homage  to  our  King! 

Jesus  Christ  is  here! 

4  Silent  night !  holiest  night ! 
Wondrous  Star !  oh,  lend  thy  light ! 
With  the  angels  let  us  sing 
Hallelujah  to  our  King ! 

Jesus  Christ  is  here ! 

It  does  not  seem  to  be  known  anywhere  as 
yet  who  wrote  this  version  in  English  of  the 
German  hymn  of  Joseph  Mohr  :  Stzlle  Nacht, 
heiVge  Nacht,  a  favorite  carol  for  Christmas 
in  the  German  Fatherland ;  the  date  of  the 
original  composition  is  i8i8.  The  commen- 
tator, Lange,  has  taken  up  a  question  interest- 
ing to  many  students  of  the  inspired  Word  : 

"  If  it  be  asked  how  Providence  would  em- 
ploy such  a  deceptive  art  for  the  purpose  of 
guiding  the  Magi  to  the  truth,  we  reply  that 
there  is  a  vast  difference  between  earlier  and 
later  astrology.  Just  as  chemistry  sprung 
from  alchemy,  so  ancient  pagan  astrology  was 
the  parent  of  our  modern  science  of  astron- 
omy. But  the  tendency  of  all  true  science  is 
to  point  the  way  to  faith.  A  perception  of 
the  harmonious  order  of  the  firmament,  and 
especially  a  knowledge  of  astronomy,  would 
direct  devout  minds  to  Him  who  is  the  cen- 
ter of  the  spiritual  solar  system,  to  the  cre- 
ative Word,  the  source  of  all  order.  Besides, 
it  was  not  astrological  inquiry  which  primari- 
ly determined  the  Magi  to  undertake  the  jour- 
ney to  Jerusalem,  but  their  belief  in  the  Mes- 
siah promised  to  the  Jews,  of  whom  they  had 
heard.  They  were  men  earnest  in  their  deep 
longings,  and  believers  according  to  the  meas- 
ure of  preparing  gjace  granted  them.     Hence 


their  astrological  knowledge  was  used  only  as 
the  instrument  of  advancing  and  directing 
their  faith.  Thus  divine  Providence  might 
condescend  even  to  their  erroneous  ideas,  and 
cause  the  appearance  of  the  star  to  coincide 
with  the  conviction  in  their  hearts  that  the 
birth  of  the  Messiah  had  then  taken  place ; 
more  especially  as  their  mistake  implied  at 
least  that  the  whole  starry  world  points  to 
Christ,  and  that  particular  law  of  providence, 
according  to  which  great  leading  events  in 
the  kingdom  of  God  are  ushered  in  by  solemn 
and  striking  occurrences,  both  terrestrial  and 
celestial.  Thus  all  secular  knowledge,  how- 
ever blended  with  error,  ser\-es  to  draw  heav- 
enly minds  to  Christ.  Error  is  but  the  husk, 
truth  is  the  kernel.  Accordingly  the  star 
which  was  a  sign  to  these  wise  men  is  to  us  a 
symbol  that  all  nature — in  particular  the  star- 
ry heavens,  and  the  whole  compass  of  natural 
science  —  if  properly  understood,  will,  under 
divine  guidance,  lead  us  to  deeper  and  strong- 
er faith." 

341  Alpha  and  Omega.  P.M. 

Of  the  Father's  love  begotten. 

Ere  the  worlds  began  to  be. 
He,  the  Alpha  and  Omega, 

He  the  source,  the  ending  he. 
Of  the  things  that  are,  that  have  been, 

And  that  future  years  shall  see, 
Evermore  and  evermore ! 

2  At  his  word  the  worlds  were  framed  ; 
He  commanded  ;  it  was  done : 

Heaven  and  earth  and  depths  of  ocean 

In  their  threefold  order  one  ; 
All  that  grows  beneath  the  shining 

Of  the  moon  and  burning  sun, 
Evermore  and  evermore ! 

3  He  is  found  in  human  fashion, 
Death  and  sorrow  here  to  know, 

That  the  race  of  Adam's  children, 
Doomed  by  law  to  endless  woe, 

May  not  henceforth  die  and  perish 
In  the  dreadful  gulf  below, 
Evermore  and  evermore  I 

4  Christ,  to  thee,  with  God  the  Father, 
And,  O  Holy  Ghost,  to  thee, 

Hymn,  and  chant,  and  high  thanksgiving. 

And  unwearied  praises  be, 
Honor,  glory,  and  dominion, 

And  eternal  victory. 
Evermore  and  evermore ! 

Just  how  much  of  solid  doctrine  can  safely 
be  introduced  into  a  hymn  is  one  of  the  ques- 
tions of  our  modem  times.  In  this  instance 
we  have  a  peculiar  answer.  For  one  of  the 
most  abstruse  and  difficult  dogmas  of  the 
primitive  church  has  been  handed  down  to  us 
in  a  Latin  ode  of  Aurelius  Prudentius  Clem- 
ens, written  in  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  cen- 
tury of  the  Christian  era.  The  mystery  of 
Jesus  Christ's  pre-existence  is  to  be  made  the 
theme  of  a  song  of  praise.  It  requires  a  ge- 
nius to  do  that ;  and  this  ancient  lawver  and 


INCARNATION  AND   BIRTH. 


159 


poet  was  certainly  one  of  the  higher  sort. 
Dean  Milman  says  he  was  "  the  great  popular 
author  of  the  Middle  Ages."  One  historian, 
after  studying  the  records  of  that  awakened 
period,  declares  Prudentius  to  have  been 
"the  Horace  and  Virgil  of  the  Christians." 
Another  says  he  was  "  the  first  Christian 
poet."  Still  another,  at  loss  for  a  panegyric, 
cries  out,  "  He  was  the  Latin  Dr.  Watts!" 
Some,  however,  do  not  agree  to  all  this  ;  and 
we  need  go  no  farther  than  to  say  that  this 
poem,  "  Corde  natiis  e  parentis,"  is  worthy  of 
the  highest  encomium.  It  shows  itself  here 
in  the  English  translation  made  by  Dr.  John 
Mason  Neale  and  Sir  Henry  Williams  Baker. 

342  Foretold  and  Manifested.  P.  M. 

He  is  here  whom  seers  in  old  time 

Chanted  of,  while  ages  ran ; 
Whom  the  writings  of  the  prophets 
Promised  since  the  world  began : 
Then  foretold,  now  manifested. 
To  receive  the  praise  of  man, 
Evermore  and  evermore ! 

2  Praise  him,  O  ye  heaven  of  heavens  ! 
Praise  him,  angels  in  the  height ! 

Ever>'  power  and  every  virtue, 
Sing  the  praise  of  God  aright : 

Let  no  tongue  of  man  be  silent. 
Let  each  heart  and  voice  unite, 
Evermore  and  evermore ! 

3  Thee  let  age,  and  thee  let  manhood, 
Thee  let  choirs  of  infants  sing; 

Thee  the  matrons  and  the  virgins, 

And  the  children  answering ; 
Let  their  modest  song  re-echo. 

And  their  heart  its  praises  bring, 
Evermore  and  evermore ! 

4  Laud  and  honor  to  the  Father, 
Laud  and  honor  to  the  Son, 

Laud  and  honor  to  the  Spirit, 

Ever  Three  and  ever  One : 
Consubstantial,  co-eternal. 

While  unending  ages  run, 
Evermore  and  evermore  I 

This  is  a  part  of  the  preceding  hymn,  trans- 
lated by  Dr.  John  Mason  Neale,  and  supple- 
mented by  a  Doxology  in  the  same  meter. 
The  idea  of  our  divine  Lord  as  a  person  is  to 
many  minds  exceedingly  indefinite.  He  seems 
a  mere  historic  character,  born,  living,  dying, 
like  any  other  being  among  the  generations 
of  men.  We  accept  his  deity  as  a  mysterious 
doctrine  of  revelation,  essential,  of  course,  to 
his  office  and  work ;  but  our  understanding 
of  the  ineffable  meaning  it  bears  is  very  vague 
and  irrelevant.  And  that  strange  life,  which 
began  at  the  manger  in  Bethlehem,  ran  through 
some  sorrowful  years  in  Galilee,  and  then  ended 
on  the  cross  at  Jerusalem,  has  no  real  signi- 
ficance as  a  mission  of  Immanuel,  "  God  with 
us."  We  hardly  know  how  to  deal  with  it. 
Really  the  weakness  of  many  believers  is  ow- 
ing to  their  absolute  inability  to  make  this 
personal  career  of  our  Redeemer  available  in 
their  experience. 


Such  confusion  is  perfectly  natural.  It  is 
the  necessary  sequence  of  a  miserable  mis- 
take. How  childishly  inadequate  is  the  con- 
ception of  an  infinite  Son  of  God  which  limits 
him  consciously  or  unconsciously  to  an  earthly 
history  ending  in  a  failure  !  Now  the  Scrip- 
ture insists  that  Jesus'  birth  was  not  his  be- 
ginning, nor  was  his  death  his  end.  The  thirty- 
three  years  of  his  human  existence  bear  al- 
most no  measure  or  relation  to  the  real  dura- 
tion of  his  life.  He  was  living  for  an  eternity 
previous  to  their  commencing;  he  is  living 
now  in  an  eternity  as  unbroken  and  as  bound- 
less as  ever.  The  incarnation  was  an  incident 
in  his  career ;  it  was  only  a  part  of  his  work 
of  redemption,  a  necessary  part,  a  noble  part, 
but  not  the  whole.  His  biography  would  have 
to  be  written  with  an  alphabet,  the  Alpha  of 
which  no  human  voice  ever  repeated,  the 
Omega  of  which  no  mortal  tongue  would 
know  how  to  speak. 

343  -^  Friend  from  heaven.  P.  M. 

One  is  kind  above  all  others; 

Oh,  how  he  loves  ! 
His  is  love  beyond  a  brother's; 

Oh,  how  he  loves  ! 
Earthly  friends  may  fail  and  leave  us, 
This  day  soothe,  the  next  day  grieve  us, 
But  this  Friend  will  ne'er  deceive  us  • 

Oh,  how  he  loves  ! 

2  'T  is  eternal  life  to  know  him ; 
Oh,  how  he  loves  ! 

Think,  oh,  think  how  much  we  owe  him ; 

Oh,  how  he  loves  ! 
With  his  precious  blood  he  bought  us. 
In  the  wilderness  he  sought  us, 
To  his  fold  he  safely  brought  us ; 

Oh,  how  he  loves  ! 

3  We  have  found  a  friend  in  Jesus ; 
Oh,  how  he  loves  ! 

'T  is  his  great  delight  to  bless  us ; 

Oh,  how  he  loves  ! 
How  our  hearts  delight  to  hear  him 
Bid  us  dwell  in  safety  near  him  ! 
Why  should  we  distrust  or  fear  him  ? 

On,  how  he  loves ! 

4  All  our  sins  shall  be  forgiven ; 
Oh,  how  he  loves  ! 

Backward  shall  our  foes  be  driven ; 

Oh,  how  he  loves  ! 
Blessings  rich  he  will  provide  us. 
Naught  but  good  shall  e'er  betid*  us. 
Safe  to  glory  he  will  guide  us ; 

Oh,  how  he  loves ! 

The  author  of  this  hymn.  Miss  Marianne 
Nunn,  was  born  in  Colchester,  Essex,  Eng- 
land, May  17,  1778,  lived  in  retirement,  and 
died,  unmarried,  in  1847.  The  hymn  which 
bears  her  name  in  not  a  few  of  the  best  col- 
lections was  contributed  to  a  volume  pre- 
pared by  her  brother,  the  Rev.  John  Nunn, 
entitled  Psalms  and  Hymns,  and  published 
in  1 81 7.  It  was  given  first  to  the  American 
public  by  Dr.  Leavitt  in  The  Christian  Lyre, 
1 830,  and  has  been  repeated  frequently  since 
on  this  side  of  the  water.     The  first  line  has 


i6o 


THE   LORD  JESUS  CHRIST. 


been  subjected  to  many  changes  in  order  to 
distinguish  it  from  that  of  Newton :  "  One 
there  is  above  all  others." 

344  "Jesus  is  God  /"  C.  M.  D. 

Jesus  is  God  !    The  glorious  bands 

Of  hioly  angels  sing 
Songs  of  adoring  praise  to  him, 

Their  Maker  and  their  King. 
He  was  true  God  in  Bethlehem's  crib, 

On  Calvary's  cross  true  God, 
He  who  in  heaven  eternal  reigned. 

In  time  on  earth  abode. 

2  Jesus  is  God  !    Oh,  could  I  now 
But  compass  land  and  sea 

To  teach  and  tell  this  single  truth, 

How  happy  should  I  be ! 
Oh,  had  I  but  an  angel's  voice, 

I  would  proclaim  so  loud — 
Jesus,  the  good,  the  beautiful. 

Is  everlasting  God ! 

3  Jesus  is  God  !    Ifon  the  earth 
This  blessed  faith  decays. 

More  tender  must  our  love  become. 

More  plentiful  our  praise. 
We  are  not  angels,  but  we  may 

Down  in  earth's  comers  kneel, 
And  multiply  sweet  acts  of  love, 

And  murmur  what  we  feel. 

4  Jesus  is  God  !     Let  sorrow  come, 
And  pain,  and  even'  ill : 

All  are  worth  while,  for  all  are  means 

His  glory  to  fulfill ; 
Worth  while  a  thousand  years  of  life. 

To  speak  one  little  word. 
If  only  by  our  faith  we  own 

The  Godhead  of  our  Lord  ! 

This  is  given  in  Dr.  Frederick  William 
Faber's  Hymtis,  1862.  There  are  times  in 
which  a  genuine  Christian  will  not  consent  to 
be  anything  less  than  dogmatic.  He  knows, 
and  he  has  nothing  to  do  with  mere  hopes  or 
surmises.  He  has  a  conviction,  now  he  wants 
to  have  it  hold  him  up :  "  Teneo  et  Teneor.' . 
Raphael  Aben-Ezra,  the  old  Jew  in  Hypatia, 
is  made  by  Charles  Kingsley  to  say :  "  I  want 
a  faith  past  argument ;  one  which,  whether  I 
can  prove  it  or  not  to  the  satisfaction  of  the 
lawyers,  I  believe  to  my  own  satisfaction,  and 
act  on  as  undoubtingly  and  unreasoningly  as 
I  do  upon  my  own  personal  identity.  I  do  n't 
want  to  possess  a  faith,  I  want  a  faith  which 
will  possess  me."  Most  of  us  understand 
very  well  the  feeling  which  the  apostle  Paul 
expresses  in  his  last  letter  to  Timothy :  "  I 
know  whom  I  have  believed,  and  I  am  per- 
suaded that  he  is  able  to  keep  that  which  I 
have  committed  to  him  against  that  day." 
And  when  one  knows  a  thing  of  such  vast 
reach  and  value,  he  wishes  to  say  and  to  sing 
it.  This  is  the  sentiment  which  Dr.  Frederick 
William  Faber  has  voiced  in  the  noble  hymn 
before  us.  There  never  was  a  period  when 
such  a  ringing  lyric  was  demanded  more  or 
more  needed  than  now.  The  day  is  not  so 
very  far  ahead  as  some  imagine  in  which  to 
speak  one  little  word  for  the  absolute  God- 


head of  our  Lord  may  be  worth  a  thousand 
years  of  life. 


345 


Bethlehem  Star. 


C.  M.  D. 


As  shadows  cast  by  cloud  and  sun 

Flit  o'er  the  summer  grass, 
So,  in  thy  sight,  Almighty  One, 

Earth's  generations  pass. 
And  as  the  years,  an  endless  host. 

Come  swiftly  pressing  on. 
The  brightest  names  that  earth  can  boast 

Just  glisten  and  are  gone. 

2  Vet  doth  the  star  of  Bethlehem  shed 

A  luster  pure  and  sweet ; 
And  still  it  leads,  as  once  it  led. 

To  the  Messiah's  feet. 
O  Father,  may  that  holy  star 

Grow  every  year  more  bright. 
And  send  its  glorious  beams  afar 

To  fill  the  world  with  light. 


WILLIAM    CI  LLl.N    l;K\A.\T. 


Eighty-four  years  had  the  author  of  these 
lines  lingered  on  the  earth,  and  yet  he  him- 
self said  of  human  life  it  was  as  if  a  shadow 
should  "  flit  o'er  the  summer  grass."  He  died 
abruptly,  by  what  some  would  call  an  acci- 
dent. This  hymn  was  indeed  the  fittest  to 
sing  at  his  funeral.  His  own  name  w^as  one 
of  "  the  brightest  names  that  earth  can  boast." 
It  seemed  now  one  of  the  fairest  lights  that 
"  just  glisten  and  are  gone." 

William  Cullen  Bryant  was  born  in  Cum- 
mington,  Mass.,  November  3,  1794,  and  died 
June  12,  1878,  in  New  York  city.  His  life  is 
a  part  of  American  history,  and  his  poetry  a 
part  of  the  world's  literature. 


LIFE  AND   CHARACTER, 


l6l 


Trained  in  the  midst  of  all  which  is  noblest 
in  New  England,  his  ancestral  stock  revealed 
in  every  grand  and  beautiful  act  of  his  whole 
career,  a  versifier  from  his  earliest  years,  edu- 
cated in  Williams  College,  from  which  he 
withdrew  to  begin  the  study  of  law,  suddenly 
this  young  man  astonished  the  poets  of  the 
age  by  coming  in  among  them  with  Thanatop- 
sts  in  his  hands.  Then  our  country  recog- 
nized him,  and  from  that  day  to  this  every- 
body knows  his  story  down  to  that  sunshiny 
time  in  which  there  were  signs  of  the  land 
"  in  which  it  seemed  always  afternoon,"  while 
as  our  veteran  journalist  he  moved  quietly 
along  the  familiar  streets  of  the  metropolis. 
Those  were  sweet,  gentle  years ;  his  benig- 
nant mien,  his  unfailing  courtesy  as  a  gentle- 
man of  the  old  school  of  manners,  his  spright- 
ly step  and  dignified  bearing,  his  keen  eyes, 
even  his  long  beautiful  beard,  rendered  him 
conspicuous  in  the  town.  He  spent  much  of 
his  time  in  the  country,  but  his  orations  and 
addresses  kept  the  community  acquainted 
with  his  personality,  which  in  some  measure 
was  lost  in  the  editorial  reserve  of  a  political 
newspaper. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  say  more  about  these 
general  facts.  It  is  for  another  purpose  that 
his  name  is  introduced  in  this  article.  Our 
theme  is  found  in  the  poet's  hymns.  There 
is  a  word  used  in  the  Oxford  Essays,  but  not 
yet  received  into  the  dictionaries,  which  one 
for  an  occasion  would  be  glad  to  welcome 
just  now.  But  the  remembrance  of  Mr. 
Bryant's  fastidiousness  in  relation  to  passing 
newly-minted  coins  in  American  literature 
keeps  one  back  from  speaking  of  him  as  a 
"  hymnist,"  when  he  rather  wishes  he  could 
say  right  out  what  he  means. 

The  religious  tone  of  Mr.  Bryant's  poetry 
is  apparent,  and  forms  one  of  its  chief  attrac- 
tions ;  but  he  does  not  always  propose  to  be 
lyrical  even  in  his  devotional  strains.  His 
contributions  to  the  usual  collections  are  scat- 
tered, and  only  four  or  five  have  come  widely 
into  use  in  the  worship  of  God's  people  of 
every  name. 

It  is  likely  that  in  the  later  and  more  tran- 
quil experiences  of  his  busy  existence,  when, 
as  we  easily  gather  from  his  other  writings, 
his  own  religious  life  was  deepening  and 
growing  richer  with  visions  of  the  fair  world 
to  come,  most  of  these  pieces  actually  sung 
in  evangelical  churches  were  written.  The 
hymn  before  us  was  published  in  the  Hymnal 
of  the  American  Methodist  Episcopal  Church, 
1878.  But  it  was  composed  for  the  semi- 
centennial celebration  of  the  Church  of  the 
Messiah  in  Boston,  March  19,  1875. 


34^  "The  King  in  his  beauty."  CM. 

Lord  Jesus!  when  I  think  of  thee, 

Of  all  thy  love  and  grace. 
My  spirit  longs  and  fain  would  see 

Thy  beauty,  face  to  face. 

2  And  though  the  wilderness  I  tread, 
A  barren,  thirsty  ground, 

With  thonis  and  briars  overspread. 
Where  foes  and  snares  abound  ; — 

3  Yet  in  thy  love  such  depths  I  see, 
My  soul  o'erflows  with  praise — 

Contents  itself,  while.  Lord,  to  thee 
A  joyful  song  I  raise. 

4  My  Lord,  my  Life,  my  Rest,  my  Shield, 
My  Rock,  my  Food,  my  Light ; 

Each  thought  of  thee  doth  constant  yield 
Unchanging,  fresh  delight. 

5  My  Saviour,  keep  my  spirit  stayed, 
Hard  following  after  thee ; 

Till  I,  in  robes  of  white  arrayed, 
Thy  face  in  glory  see. 

Rev.  James  George  Deck,  the  author  of  a 
number  of  hymns  which  have  become  widely 
known,  was  born  in  1802  at  Bury  St.  Ed- 
munds, England,  and  educated  for  the  British 
army.  In  1829  he  was  an  officer  on  field- 
service  in  India,  but  his  health  failed,  and  he 
was  obliged  to  resign  his  profession  in  1835 
and  return  to  England.  Having  joined  the 
Plymouth  Brethren,  he  took  charge  of  a  con- 
gregation of  that  body  at  Wellington,  Somer- 
setshire, in  1 843.  From  there  he  went  for  a 
time  to  Weymouth,  and  in  1852  emigrated  to 
New  Zealand,  where  he  died  in  1884.  Mr. 
Deck  published  a  number  of  hymns,  most  of 
which  were  included  in  Dr.  Walker's  Colh'c- 
tzon,  1855-80.  These  are  marked  by  direct- 
ness and  simplicity  of  style  and  great  earnest- 
ness. He  also  produced  several  works  of  an 
argumentative  nature,  On  Receiving  and  Re- 
jecting Brethren  from  the  Table  of  the  Lord, 
and  A  Word  of  Warning  to  All  who  Lane 
the  Lord  fesus,  being  among  the  best  known, 

347  Christ's  earthly  path.  CM. 

O  Lord,  we  now  the  path  retrace 
Which  thou  on  earth  hast  trod. 

To  man  thy  wondrous  love  and  grace, 
Thy  faithfulness  to  God ! 

2  Thy  love,  by  man  so  sorely  tried, 
Proved  stronger  than  the  grave ; 

The  very  spear  that  pierced  thy  side 
Drew  forth  the  blood  to  save. 

3  Unmoved  by  Satan's  subtle  wiles. 
Or  suffering,  shame,  or  loss, 

Thy  path,  uncheered  oy  earthly  smiles. 
Led  only  to  the  cross. 

4  O  Lord,  with  sorrow  and  with  shame, 
We  meekly  would  confess 

How  little  we,  who  bear  thy  name, 
Thy  mind,  thy  ways,  express. 

5  Give  us  thy  meek,  thy  lowly  mind ; 
We  would  obedient  be, 

And  all  our  rest  and  pleasure  find 
In  fellowship  with  thee. 

I  I 


1 62 


THE   LORD  JESUS   CHRIST. 


Another  piece  written  by  Rev.  James 
George  Deck,  and  found  in  his  Hymns  for 
the  Poor  of  the  Flock,  1838.  It  affords  a 
good  example  of  the  style  of  this  writer  as  he 
appears  in  one  of  those  meditative  moods  so 
characteristic  of  his  poetry.  He  is  always 
clear  and  intelligible ;  but  his  thoughts  are 
often  so  intense  that  he  is  almost  mystical  in 
utterance.  His  Saviour  is  unseen,  but  not 
less  beloved  for  all  that.  From  some  hints 
we  have  in  the  scattered  references  of  Scrip- 
ture, we  should  be  led  to  think  that  our 
Lord's  life  was  so  laborious  and  worried  that 
he  looked  worn  and  wan,  and  might  well 
have  been  compared  to  a  root  out  of  dry 
ground,  with  no  form  or  comeliness.  One 
time  when  he  was  preaching,  the  Jews  inti- 
mated that  they  thought  him  not  far  from 
fifty  years  old.  They  erred  by  full  twenty 
years,  for  he  was  not  thirty-four  when  he 
died.  Loneliness  and  exposure  may  quite 
likely  have  rendered  him  aged  before  his 
time.  We  must  wait,  therefore,  if  we  would 
have  a  fitting  conception  of  Jesus  as  a  king 
in  his  beauty,  until  we  behold  him  in  the 
land  which  is  very  far  off.  He  bore  with 
him  his  human  form  into  heaven.  And  there 
can  be  no  reason  for  hesitancy  in  believing 
that  when  we  shall  see  his  face  we  shall  find 
he  has  grouped  together  in  his  person  all  the 
best  features  of  perfect  manhood ;  he  will 
present  to  us  the  pattern  form  of  our  race ; 
the  sinless,  unwarped,  uninjured  ideal  of 
humanity,  royal  in  its  mien  as  the  Creator 
saw  it  when  he  pronounced  it  good  in  the 
purity  of  Paradise.  "  Thou  art  fairer  than 
the  children  of  men  ;  grace  is  poured  into  thy 
lips :  therefore  God  hath  blessed  thee  for 
ever." 

348  "  Our  infirmities  "  CM. 

Jesus,  and  didst  thou  condescend, 

When  vailed  in  human  clay, 
To  heal  the  sick,  the  lame,  the  blind. 

And  drive  disease  away? 

2  Didst  thou  regard  the  beggar's  cry, 
And  give  the  blind  to  see? 

Jesus,  thou  Son  of  David,  hear — 
Have  mercy,  too,  on  me. 

3  And  didst  thou  pity  mortal  vi'oe, 
And  sight  and  health  restore? 

Then  pity.  Lord,  and  save  my  soul, 
Which  needs  thy  mercy  more. 

4  Didst  thou  regard  thy  ser\'ant's  cry. 
When  sinking  in  the  wave? 

I  perish,  Lord  ;  oh,  save  my  soul ! 
For  thou  alone  canst  save. 

Rev.  Samuel  Willoughby  Duffield,  the  au- 
thor of  English  Hymns,  is  the  only  one  of  all 
the  hymn-critics  who  busy  their  lives  in  look- 
ing up  credits  for  the  songs  they  find,  that 


has  deigned  to  notice  this  one.  And  all  he 
could  discover  was  that  it  was  found  first  ia 
Ash  and  Evans  Collection,  1769.  There  it 
shows  the  signature,  "Am-a,"  which  can  be 
imagined  to  mean  "Amelia;"  and  no  one  can 
say  just  how  the  hymn  has  improved  upon 
this  simple  start  until  now  it  rejoices  in  the 
full  name  of  "  Mrs.  Amelia  Wakeford."  But 
the  piece  is  worthy  of  its  place.  It  is  a  neat 
adaptation  of  the  old  story  of  a  sightless  sin- 
ner, healed  and  converted  to  the  spiritual 
uses  of  religious  illumination  by  Christ.  I 
remember  seeing  in  a  German  gallery  once  a 
painting  representing  Bartimeus  at  the  gates 
of  Jericho,  the  moment  when  he  received  his 
sight  under  the  miraculous  power  of  Jesus. 
It  did  not  satisfy  my  imagination.  I  think 
the  time  for  such  a  picture  should  be  a  little 
later  in  his  history,  when,  I  doubt  not,  that 
most  grateful  man  might  have  been  found  at 
the  work  of  leading  other  blind  men  to  the 
same  source  of  help.  Most  likely  he  would 
say  to  himself,  "  Here  I  am,  a  poor  unedu- 
cated beggar ;  it  is  of  no  use  for  me  to  try  at 
this  time  of  life  to  set  up  for  an  apostle ; 
there  seems  only  one  thing  I  really  can  do ; 
there  shall  not  be  left  in  all  this  city  even  one 
man  sightless,  without  at  least  hearing  of  this 
wonderful  Saviour !"  So  I  can  conceive  of 
his  zeal  easily.  And  if  it  were  for  me  to 
paint  a  picture  of  him,  it  would  show  him  at 
the  instant  when  he  had  led  up  a  blind  neigh- 
bor to  Jesus  and  was  instructing  him  what  to 
do.  If  my  pencil  would  work  my  will  on  the 
canvas,  it  would  make  you  see  the  three  fig- 
ures plainly — Bartimeus,  his  groping  friend, 
and  Jesus,  the  Christ.  And  you  should  seem 
to  hear  Bartimeus  whisper,  "  There  now ! 
call  with  all  your  might !  Say,  Jesus,  thou 
son  of  David,  have  mercy  on  me !  Never 
mind  the  disciples ;  aim  straight  at  Jesus ! 
Say  it  again — and  again  !  Oh,  he  is  looking 
at  you  now ;  he  will  call  you  in  a  moment ; 
tell  him  right  out  what  you  want  of  him ; 
now,  this  instant,  or  you  will  be  too  late ! 
Oh,  I  wish  I  could  call  out  for  you ;  but  he 
would  not  hear  me  for  you,  when  yoti  are 
here  I"  And  then  you  should  see  the  face  of 
Bartimeus,  so  eager,  so  wistful,  so  beseech- 
ing, so  intent,  bending  forward,  while  his 
sightless  friend  is  talking  with  Jesus,  and  so 
overjoyed  as  he  sees  the  eyes  opened,  and 
knows  that  another  poor  fellow  less  sits  beg- 
ging at  the  gates  ! 

Nor  would  you  be  surprised  to  know  that 
this  same  man  turned  to  speak  his  final 
counsel  in  the  ear  of  his  mate  :  "  Now,  then, 
never,  while  you  live,  forget  what  you  owe  to 
Jesus  ;  the  least  you  can  possibly  do  for  him 


LIFE   AND   CHARACTER. 


163 


is  to  be  off  as  1  am,  leading  up  blind  men  to 
him !" 

349  "All  in  Jesus."  CM. 

Behold,  where,  in  a  mortal  form, 

Appears  each  grace  divine! 
The  virtues,  all  in  Jesus  met, 

With  mildest  radiance  shine. 

2  To  spread  the  rays  of  heavenly  light. 
To  give  the  mourner  joy. 

To  preach  glad  tidings  to  the  poor, 
Was  his  divine  employ. 

3  'Mid  keen  reproach  and  cruel  scorn 
He  meek  ana  patient  stood  ; 

His  foes,  ungrateful,  sought  his  life, 
Who  labored  for  their  good. 

4  In  the  last  hour  of  deep  distress, 
Before  his  Father's  throne. 

With  soul  resigned  he  bovifed  and  said, 
"Thy  will,  not  mine,  be  done!" 

5  Be  Christ  our  pattern,  and  our  guide. 
His  image  may  we  bear; 

Oh,  may  we  tread  his  holy  steps — 
His  joy  and  glory  share. 

The  early  life  of  Rev.  William  Enfield, 
U.  D.,  was  a  hard  struggle  with  poverty. 
With  an  eager  thirst  for  knowledge,  he  was 
yet  bound  down  to  commonplace  by  reason 
of  his  small  share  of  this  world's  goods.  He 
was  born  of  poor  parents  at  Sudbury,  Suffolk, 
England,  March  29,  1741.  When  about  sev- 
enteen years  old,  through  the  assistance  of  a 
Mr.  Haxtall,  who  was  the  local  Dissenting 
clergyman,  he  began  to  prepare  for  the  minis- 
try, and  entered  the  Daventry  Academy, 
where  he  remained  for  five  years.  His  first 
charge  was  that  of  Benn's  Garden,  Liverpool. 
Shortly  after  his  marriage  with  Miss  Mary 
Holland,  of  Liverpool,  in  1767,  he  left  this 
congregation  and  removed  to  Warrington, 
where  he  became  minister  of  the  Old  Presby- 
terian Church,  and  also  professor  of  Belles- 
Lettres  in  the  Unitarian  College.  Two  years 
of  work  in  this  field,  and  then  Dr.  Enfield 
went  to  Norwich,  becoming  the  pastor  of  the 
"  Octagon  "  congregation  of  that  city.  There- 
after his  life  was  devoted  exclusively  to  the 
ministry  and  to  literary  work.  He  died  at 
Norwich,  November  3,  1797. 

Dr.  Enfield  will  perhaps  be  remembered  as 
the  author  of  a  once  popular  school-book  on 
elocution,  the  "  Speaker,"  rather  than  as  a 
noted  hymnologist.  He  edited  the  Warring- 
ion  Collection  in  1772,  in  which  appear  many 
of  Thomas  Scott's  hymns ;  but  it  is  not  until 
the  edition  of  1802  that  any  of  his  own  pieces 
are  to  be  found  ;  these  are  but  three  in  number, 
one  being  the  hymn  quoted.  The  first  line  of 
this  poem  originally  read  "  Behold,  where  in 
the  Friend  of  Man,"  and  was  adapted  to  its 
present  form  by  an  unknown  WTiter. 


350  A  lonely  life.  C.  M. 

A  PILGRIM  through  this  lonely  world, 

The  blessed  Saviour  passed  ; 
A  mourner  all  his  life  was  he, 

A  dying  Lamb  at  last. 

:  That  tender  heart  that  felt  for  all. 

For  all  its  life-blood  gave ; 
It  found  on  earth  no  resting-place, 

Save  only  in  the  grave. 

3  Such  was  our  Lord ;  and  shall  we  fear 
The  cross,  with  all  its  scorn? 

Or  love  a  faithless  evil  world. 
That  wreathed  his  brow  with  thorn? 

4  No !  facing  all  its  frowns  or  smiles. 
Like  him,  obedient  still. 

We  homeward  press  through  storm  or  calm 
To  Zion's  blessed  hill. 

The  original  of  this  hymn  had  eight  stanzas, 
and  was  entitled  "  The  Man  of  Sorrows."  It 
was  published  in  1839  in  a  volume  of  Millen- 
nium Hymns.  The  author.  Sir  Edward  Den- 
ny, was  born  at  Tralee  Castle,  County  Kerry, 
Ireland,  October  2,  1796.  He  was  the  fourth 
baronet  of  the  line,  and  succeeded  his  father 
in  August,  1 83 1.  Many  of  Sir  Edward's 
hymns  are  in  common  use  in  England  and 
America,  and  the  one  quoted,  which  usually 
appears  in  an  abridged  form,  is  specially  adapt- 
ed to  the  services  of  Holy  Week.  A  Prophet- 
ical Stream  of  Time  and  a  volume  of  Hymns 
and  Poems  are  both  from  the  pen  of  this  no- 
bleman. In  the  latter  collection  are  three 
poems,  in  which  the  conversion  of  his  mother, 
through  the  instrumentality  of  her  son's  pray- 
ers, is  feelingly  portrayed.  This  author  was 
an  honored  member  of  the  "  Plymouth  Breth- 
ren," and  spent  much  of  his  time  in  London. 
He  died  in  that  city,  June  13,  1889. 

35  I  Fo^  our  example.  C.  M. 

What  grace,  O  Lord,  and  beauty  shone 

Around  thy  steps  below ; 
What  patient  love  was  seen  in  all 

Thy  life  and  death  of  woe. 

2  For,  ever  on  thy  burdened  heart 
A  weight  of  sorrow  hung; 

Yet  no  ungentle,  murmuring  word 
Escaped  thy  silent  tongue. 

3  Thy  foes  might  hate,  despise,  revile, 
Thy  friends  unfaithful  prove; 

Unwearied  in  forgiveness  still. 
Thy  heart  could  only  love. 

4  Oh,  give  us  hearts  to  love  like  thee ! 
Like  thee,  O  Lord,  to  grieve 

Far  more  for  others'  sins  than  all 
The  wrongs  that  we  receive. 

5  One  with  thyself,  may  every  eye. 
In  us,  thy  brethren,  see 

The  gentleness  and  grace  that  spring 
From  union.  Lord  !  with  thee. 

Another  of  Sir  Edward  Denny's  poems, 
full  as  ever  of  spirituality  and  conscious 
communion  with  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  It 
is  found  in  his  Miscellaneous  Hymns,  with 


1 64 


THE   LORD   JESUS   CHRIST. 


the  title  affixed  to  it,  "  The  Forgiving  One. 
Psalm  45  :  2."  The  reference  must  be  to  the 
last  clause  :  "  Grace  is  poured  into  thy  lips  ; 
therefore  God  hath  blessed  thee  for  ever." 

352  "H^ay,  Truth,  and  Life."  CM. 

Thou  art  the  Way :  to  thee  alone 

From  sin  and  death  we  flee ; 
And  he  who  would  the  Father  seek, 

Must  seek  him.  Lord,  by  thee. 

2  Thou  art  the  Truth  :  thy  word  alone 
True  wisdom  can  impart; 

Thou  only  canst  inform  the  mind 
And  purify  the  heart. 

3  Thou  art  the  Life :  the  rending  tomb 
Proclaims  thy  conquering  arm ; 

And  those  who  put  their  trust  in  thee 
Nor  death  nor  hell  shall  harm. 

4  Thou  art  the  Way,  the  Truth,  the  Life: 
Grant  us  that  Way  to  know ; 

That  Truth  to  keep,  that  Life  to  win. 
Whose  joys  eternal  flow. 

Dr.  George  Washington  Doane,  the  author 
of  this  hymn,  was  a  very  popular  leader  in 
that  branch  of  the  Church  to  which  he  be- 
longed ;  but  his  fame  does  not  rest  upon  his 
successes  as  a  hymn-writer.  This  one  is  use- 
ful as  being  almost  the  only  one  which  delib- 
erately, albeit  somewhat  mechanically  and 
stiffly,  paraphrases  the  familiar  passage  of  the 
Scripture  on  which  it  is  founded  :  "  I  am  the 
way,  the  truth,  and  the  life ;  no  man  cometh 
unto  the  Father  but  by  me."  John  14  :6.  It 
first  appeared  in  Songs  by  the  Way,  1 824. 

353  Pattern  of  Forgiveness.  C.  M. 

Lord,  as  to  thy  dear  cross  we  flee. 

And  pray  to  be  forgiven. 
So  let  thy  life  our  pattern  be, 

And  form  our  souls  for  heaven. 

2  Help  us,  through  good  report  and  ill. 
Our  daily  cross  to  bear ; 

Like  thee,  to  do  our  Father's  will, 
Our  brother's  griefs  to  share. 

3  Let  grace  our  selfishness  expel. 
Our  earthliness  refine; 

And  kindness  in  our  bosoms  dwell 
As  free  and  true  as  thine. 

4  If  joy  shall  at  thy  bidding  fly, 
And  griefs  dark  day  come  on. 

We,  in  our  turn,  would  meekly  cry, 
"  Father,  thy  will  be  done!" 

5  Kept  peaceful  in  the  midst  of  strife. 
Forgiving  and  forgiven. 

Oh,  may  we  lead  the  pilgrim's  life. 
And  follow  thee  to  heaven ! 

The  Rev.  John  Hampden  Gurney  was  born 
August  15,  1802,  in  London,  the  son  of  Sir 
John  Gurney,  one  of  the  barons  of  the  Ex- 
chequer. He  was  graduated  at  Trinity  Col- 
lege, Cambridge,  in  1824.  Feeling  that  he 
was  called  to  preach  the  gospel,  he  relin- 
quished the  study  of  the  law  in  which  for  a 
while  he  had  been  engaged,  and  was  admit- 
ted to  deacon's  orders  in  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land in  1827,  and  to  the  priesthood  the  next 


year.  He  was  first  a  curate  in  Lutterworth, 
Leicestershire,  where  John  Wicklitie  had  la- 
bored and  finally  died.  Here  Mr.  Gurney 
remained  for  seventeen  years,  refusing  sev- 
eral complimentary  positions  offered  to  him  ; 
he  believed  it  was  the  best  interest  of  his 
rural  parish  that  he  should  remain  with  them, 
working  faithfully.  In  1847,  however,  it  ap- 
peared wisest  for  him  to  have  a  new  field, 
and  he  became  by  appointment  the  rector  of 
St.  Mary's,  Marylebone,  and  in  1857  he  was 
advanced  by  the  crown  to  be  a  prebendar}-  of 
St.  Pancras,  in  St.  Paul's  Cathedral.  He  had 
great  wealth  and  high  position,  and  these  ad- 
vantages he  devoted,  during  his  whole  life 
and  ministry,  to  the  churches  he  served.  He 
died  March  8,  1862,  and  his  loss  was  deeply 
felt  by  those  with  whom  he  had  been  associ- 
ated. The  hymn  quoted  above  is  found  in 
his  Hymns  for  Public  Worship,  published  in 
1838.  The  Marylebone  Hymns,  however, 
show  his  best  work ;  this  collection  contains 
thirteen  of  his  lyrical  pieces,  many  of  which 
have  found  a  place  in  the  hymnals. 

354  "  Shall  we  forget  ?"  CM. 

Jesus  !  thy  love  shall  we  forget. 

And  never  brin^  to  mind 
The  grace  that  paid  our  hopeless  debt. 

And  bade  us  pardon  find? 

2  Shall  we  thy  life  of  grief  forget. 
Thy  fasting  and  thy  prayer ; 

Thy  locks  with  mountain  vapors  wet, 
To  save  us  from  despair? 

3  Gethsemane  can  we  forget — 
Thy  struggling  agony 

When  night  lay  dark  on  Olivet, 
And  none  to  watch  with  thee  ? 

4  Our  sorrows  and  our  sins  were  laid 
On  thee,  alone  on  thee ; 

Thy  precious  blood  our  ransom  paid — 
Thine  all  the  glory  be ! 

5  Life's  brightest  joys  we  may  forget — 
Our  kindred  cease  to  love ; 

But  he  who  paid  our  hopeless  debt. 
Our  constancy  shall  prove. 

This  hymn  was  taken  from  the  Christian 
Lyre,  an  old  collection  edited  by  the  Rev. 
Joshua  Leavitt,  D.  D.,  1830,  where  it  first  ap- 
peared with  the  quaint  title,  "  Can  we  for- 
get ?"  and  was  set  to  a  tune  called  "  Grateful 
Memory."  It  has  six  stanzas  with  a  chorus, 
credited  to  "  W.  M." 

The  author.  Rev.  William  Mitchell,  was 
born  December  9,  1793,  at  Chester,  Conn. 
Having  graduated  from  Yale  College  in  181 8, 
he  studied  theology  at  Andover  Seminary, 
and  entered  the  ministry  of  the  Congrega- 
tional Church.  He  was  ordained  October  20, 
1824,  becoming  the  pastor  of  the  congrega- 
tion at  Newton,  Conn.;  in  1833  he  removed 
to  Rutland,  Vt.,  where  he  remained  settled 
until  1847  ;  then  for  several  earnest  and  profit- 


LIFE  AND  CHARACTER. 


165 


able  years  he  supplied  the  pulpit  in  Walling- 
ford,  Vt.  In  1853  he  took  up  the  work  of 
deporting  the  slaves  and  freedmen  back  to 
Africa,  as  represented  by  the  Colonization 
Society.  This  scheme  of  solving  some  of  the 
vexed  questions  concerning  slavery  as  a  sys- 
tem was  very  popular  in  those  days  among 
conservative  and  benevolent  men.  One  of 
the  direct  results  of  it  was  to  establish  the 
nation  of  Liberia  on  the  coast  of  the  Dark 
Continent.  Mr.  Mitchell  was  the  agent  of 
the  Vermont  State  Society,  then  of  the  New 
York,  then  of  the  New  Jersey  State  Societies, 
in  each  of  which  he  was  industrious  and  suc- 
cessful. Later  in  his  life  he  went  to  Corpus 
Christi,  Texas,  to  reside.  For  a  busy  period 
of  four  years  he  was  the  acting  pastor  of  the 
Presbyterian  church  of  Casa  Blanca,  but  in 
1866  he  went  home  to  Corpus  Christi,  and 
there  he  died  August  i,  1867. 

355  His  free  ways.  C.  M.  D. 

Oh,  see  how  Jesus  trusts  himself 

Unto  our  childish  love  ! 
As  though  by  his  free  ways  with  us 

Our  earnestness  to  prove. 
His  sacred  name  a  common  word 

On  earth  he  loves  to  hear ; 
There  is  no  majesty  in  him 

Which  love  may  not  come  near. 

2  The  light  of  love  is  round  his  feet, 

His  paths  are  never  dim  ; 
And  he  comes  nigh  to  us  when  we   ' 

Dare  not  come  nigh  to  him. 
Let  us  be  simple  with  him  then, 

Not  backward,  stiff,  nor  cold, 
As  though  our  Bethlefiem  could  be 

What  Sinai  was  of  old. 

These  two  double  stanzas  are  taken  from  a 
poem  called  "  True  Love "  written  by  Dr. 
Frederick  William  Faber.  There  are  twenty- 
three  verses  in  the  piece,  but  these  are  all  one 
would  care  to  sing. 

It  is  an  exceedingly  significant  fact  for  us 
to  mark  that  nowhere  have  even  those  who 
were  wont  for  a  period  of  years  to  move 
nearest  to  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  when  he  was 
on  the  earth,  attempted  any  description  of  his 
appearance  as  a  man.  His  figure,  his  com- 
plexion, his  stature,  his  dress,  not  even  an 
evangelist's  pen  has  ever  essayed  to  depict. 
The  wildest  and  weakest  idolatry  has,  there- 
fore, no  authentic  image  to  fashion  into  a 
crucifix  or  erect  at  a  shrine.  One  pensive 
face  there  is,  indeed,  repeated  always  among 
the  ancient  masters,  and  to  this  day  held  as 
the  single  model  form  of  features  which 
Christian  art  loves  to  reproduce  on  canvas 
gentle,  winning,  sad,  but  marvelously  full  of 
force  and  feeling  as  you  look  at  it.  This  face, 
tradition  says,  was  really  that  of  Jesus  of  Na- 
zareth ;  but  inspiration  seems  to  be  sternly 
silent. 


356 


The  name  "Jesus." 


C.  M.  D, 


The  Saviour  !   oh,  what  endless  charms 

Dwell  in  the  blissful  sound  ! 
Its  influence  every  fear  disarms, 

And  spreads  sweet  comfort  round. 
The  almighty  Former  of  the  skies 

Stooped  to  our  vile  abode ; 
While  angels  viewed  with  wondering  eyes 

And  hailed  the  incarnate  God. 

2  Oh,  the  rich  depths  of  love  divine  ! 

Of  bliss  a  boundless  store  ! 
Dear  Saviour,  let  me  call  thee  mine; 

I  cannot  wish  for  more. 
On  thee  alone  my  hope  relies. 

Beneath  thy  cross  I  fall ; 
My  Lord,  my  Life,  my  Sacrifice, 

My  Saviour,  and  my  All ! 

This  hymn,  every  part  of  which  is  full  of 
beauty  and  power,  is  chosen  out  of  a  wilder- 
ness of  stanzas  written  in  a  poem  lauding  the 
character  and  works  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
by  Miss  Anne  Steele.  It  is  the  one  by  which 
she  will  be  remembered  the  longest  and  the 
most  widely.  It  has  been  the  pride  and  joy 
of  a  thousand  prayer-meetings.  The  mem- 
ories of  it  have  become  so  dear  that  to  a  great 
many  of  God's  people  it  suggests  revival  sea- 
sons, social  gatherings,  family  prayers,  camp- 
meetings,  with  the  old  faces  shining  and  the 
old  voices  ringing  in  the  air.  There  were 
never  better  days  in  the  history  of  this  re- 
public than  those  in  which  stalwart  men  and 
thoughtful  women  believed  in  the  incarnation 
and  the  atonement,  and  sang  their  faith  aloud. 


357 


The  IVords  of  Jesus. 


C.  M.  D. 


I  HEARD  the  voice  of  Jesus  say, 

"  Come  unto  me  and  rest ; 
Lay  down,  thou  wearv  one,  lay  down 

Thy  head  upon  my  breast !" 
I  came  to  Jesus  as  I  was, 

Weary,  and  worn,  and  sad  ; 

1  found  in  him  a  resting-place. 
And  he  hath  made  me  glad. 

2  I  heard  the  voice  of  Jesus  say, 
"  Behold,  I  freely  gjive 

The  living  water;  thirsty  one, 
Stoop  down,  and  drink,  and  live!" 

I  came  to  J[esus,  and  I  drank 
Of  that  life-giving  stream  ; 

My  thirst  was  quenched,  my  soul  revived, 
And  now  I  live  in  him. 

3  I  heard  the  voice  of  Jesus  say, 
"  I  am  this  dark  world's  light ; 

Look  unto  me,  thy  morn  shall  rise, 

And  all  thy  day  be  bright !" 
I  looked  to  Jesus,  and  I  found 

In  him  my  Star,  my  Sun  ; 
And  in  that  light  of  life  I  Ml  walk 

Till  all  my  journey  's  done. 

We  are  glad  to  return  once  more  to  the 
hymns  of  Dr.  Horatius  Bonar.  This  is  en- 
titled "  The  Voice  from  Galilee,"  and  comes 
from  Hymns  of  Faith  and  Hope,  Series  I., 
1857.  The  two  secrets  of  its  wonderful  popu- 
larity are  found  in  the  fact  that  it  introduces 
the  words  of  our  Lord  in  a  picturesque  way, 
as  if  one's  ear  had  happened  to  catch  them 


i66 


THE    LORD   JESUS   CHRIST. 


on  the  air,  and  then  his  voice  made  an  im- 
mediate response  by  "  coming  "  towards  the 
words  of  invitation  and  promise;  and  then 
that  it  employs  possessive  pronouns  for  its 
phraseology,  and  so  individualizes  the  be- 
liever. Cnrist  says,  "  Come  to  me,"  and  the 
Christian  says,  "/  came."  Christ  says,  "/ 
give  the  living  water;"  and  the  listener  an- 
swers, ''My  thirst  was  quenched."  Christ 
says,  "/  am  light;"  and  the  child  of  God  re- 
plies, "  I  found  in  him  my  Star,  m.y  Sun !" 

358  The  Perfect  Pattern.  C.  M.  D. 

Let  worldly  minds  the  world  pursue. 

It  has  no  charms  for  me ; 
Once  I  admired  its  trifles  too, 

But  grace  has  set  me  free. 
As  by  the  light  of  opening  day 

The  stars  are  all  concealed, 
So  earthly  pleasures  fade  away 

When  Jesus  is  revealed. 

2  Creatures  no  more  divide  my  choice, 

I  bid  them  all  depart ; 
His  name,  and  love,  and  gracious  voice. 

Have  fixed  my  roving  heart. 
But  may  I  hope  that  thou  wilt  own 

A  worthless  worm  like  me  ; 
Now,  Lord !  I  would  be  thine  alone. 

And  wholly  live  to  thee. 

One  of  Rev.  John  Newton's  earlier  poems, 
published  in  Conyer's  Psalms  and  Hymns, 

1774- 

Some  people  do  not  like  such  expressions 
as  "A  worthless  worm  like  me."  John  New- 
ton never  thought  of  putting  a  "  Reverend  " 
before  his  name.  To  the  end  of  his  life  he 
always  seemed  to  himself  the  one  conspic- 
uous illustration  of  the  sovereign  grace  of 
God  through  Jesus  Christ,  the  "  amazing 
grace "  of  which  he  sang  his  loftiest  praise, 
"  that  saved  a  WTetch  like  me."  A  comment 
on  this  mood  of  mind  is  found  in  one  of  his 
letters.  Exchanged  to  a  vessel  bound  as  a 
slaver  to  the  coast  of  Africa,  he  was  carried 
thither  as  a  common  sailor,  where  he  came 
near  starving,  and  would  have  perished  but 
for  the  portion  of  their  food  which  the  slaves 
secretly  gave  him.  The  wrath  of  his  Portu- 
guese master  was  aroused  by  reports  that 
Newton  was  robbing  him — a  story  without 
foundation,  but  none  the  less  disastrous  in 
its  consequence  upon  his  victim.  The  Afri- 
can wife  of  his  master  also  conceived  a 
hatred  of  him  which  vented  itself  in  all  sorts 
of  indignities  and  even  in  personal  violence. 
He  seemed  deserted  of  heaven  and  earth,  and 
accepted  it  with  savage  sullenness.  One  can 
scarce  conceive  of  a  more  pitiable  condition. 
All  he  possessed  of  clothing  was  that  upon 
his  person,  and  this  was  in  such  a  condition 
that  he  says  of  it :  "  Had  you  seen  me,  sir, 
then  go  by,  so  pensive  and  solitary,  in  the 
dead  of  night,  to  wash  my  one  shirt  upon  the 


rocks,  and  afterward  put  it  on  wet,  that  it 
might  dry  upon  my  back  while  I  slept ;  had 
you  seen  me  so  poor  a  figure  that  when  a 
ship's  boat  came  to  the  island,  shame  often 
constrained  me  to  hide  myself  in  the  woods 
from  the  sight  of  strangers ;  especially  had 
you  known  that  my  conduct,  principles,  and 
heart  were  still  darker  than  my  outward  con- 
dition— how  little  would  you  have  imagined 
that  one  who  so  fully  answered  to  the  '  hate- 
ful and  hating  one  another '  of  the  apostle 
was  reserved  to  be  so  peculiar  an  instance  of 
the  providential  care  and  exuberant  goodness 
of  God !" 

359  The  true  Test.  C.  M. 

We  may  not  climb  the  heavenly  steeps 
To  bring  the  Lord  Christ  down  ; 

In  vain  we  search  the  lowest  deeps, 
For  him  no  depths  can  drown. 

2  But  warm,  sweet,  tender,  even  yet 
A  present  help  is  he ; 

And  faith  has  yet  its  Olivet, 
And  love  its  Galilee. 

3  The  healing  of  the  seamless  dress 
Is  by  our  beds  of  pain ; 

We  touch  him  in  life's  throng  and  press. 
And  we  are  whole  again. 

4  Through  him  the  first  fond  prayers  are  said 
Our  lips  of  childhood  frame; 

The  last  low  whispers  of  our  dead 
Are  burdened  with  his  name. 

5  O  Lord  and  Master  of  us  all, 
Whate'er  our  name  or  sign, 

We  own  thy  sway,  we  hear  tliy  call 
We  test  our  lives  by  thine ! 


JOHN  GREENLEAF  WHITTIER. 

These  stanzas  are  chosen  from  a  religious 
composition  of  John  Greenleaf  Whittier,  the 
poet,  entitled  "Our  Master;  "this  was  published 
in  The  Panorama  and  other  Poems,  1856. 
The  author  was  born  at  Haverhill,  Mass., 
December  17,  1807,  and  died  September  7, 
1892.    His  parents  belonged  to  the  Society  of 


LIFE   AND   CHARACTER. 


167 


Friends,  of  which  he  was  also  a  member.  He 
worked  on  the  farm  till  his  twentieth  year, 
and  attended  Haverhill  Academy  two  years. 
In  1829  he  became  editor  of  the  American 
Manufactttrer  in  Boston,  and  in  1830  of  the 
New  England  Weekly  Review  at  Hartford. 
But  he  soon  returned  to  the  farm,  and  in  1835 
was  a  member  of  the  Massachusetts  Legisla- 
ture. In  1836  he  was  appointed  secretary'  of 
the  Am.erican  Antislavery  Society,  and  re- 
moved to  Philadelphia,  where,  in  1838-9,  he 
edited  the  Pennsylvania  Freeman,  the  office 
of  which  was  sacked  and  burned  by  a  mob. 
From  this  time  he  was  one  of  the  most  prom- 
inent antislavery  men  in  the  country,  and  his 
writings,  both  prose  and  poetry,  were  largely 
in  support  of  that  cause.  In  1840  he  removed 
to  Amesbury,  Mass.,  and  in  1847  became 
corresponding  editor  of  the  National  Era,  an 
antislavery  newspaper,  published  in  Wash- 
ington. He  was  never  married.  Several  col- 
lective editions  of  his  poems  have  been  pub- 
lished. As  a  poet,  Whittier  is  more  peculiarly 
American  than  any  other  of  equal  fame.  His 
poems  have  been  largely  inspired  by  current 
events,  and  their  patriotic,  democratic,  and 
humane  spirit  gives  a  strong  hold  upon  the 
public.  He  wrote  a  hymn  for  the  opening  of 
the  Centennial  Exhibition  at  Philadelphia  in 
1876.  All  his  writings  are  pure  and  morally 
elevating.  Many  of  them  are  deeply  devout. 
In  1 865  he  published  a  volume  entitled  Occa- 
sional Poems  ;  in  this  there  is  one  somewhat 
extensive  piece,  commencing  thus  :  "  Immor- 
tal love,  for  ever  full."  It  is  from  this,  "  Our 
Master,"  that  the  present  hymn  has  been 
compiled.  It  is  one  of  the  most  poetic  and 
pathetic  poems  in  our  literature  upon  this 
theme.  An  incident  has  lately  been  published 
in  one  of  the  religious  periodicals  which  well 
illustrates  its  sentiment.  Not  long  ago  a  little 
Protestant  Episcopal  church  was  dedicated  in 
Whittier,  Cal.  This  liberal-hearted  author 
whose  name  the  town  bears  wrote :  "  I  see 
the  good  in  all  denominations,  and  hope  that 
all  will  be  represented  in  the  settlement ;  .  .  . 
diligent  in  business  and  serving  the  Lord,  not 
wasting  strength  and  vitality  in  spasmodic 
emotions,  not  relying  on  creed  and  dogma, 
but  upon  faithful  obedience  to  the  voice  of 
God  in  the  soul.  I  see  your  town  is  spoken 
of  as  an  orthodox  Quaker  colony.  I  hope  there 
will  be  no  sectarian  fence  about 'Whittier,' but 
that  good  men,  irrespective  of  their  creeds, 
will  find  a  home  there.  Nothing  would  be 
worse  for  it  than  to  have  the  idea  get  abroad 
that  anything  like  intolerance  and  self-right- 
eousness was  its  foundation.  I  am  gratified 
to  knov/  that  the  people  of  the  town  which 


bears  my  name  will  remember  me  on  my 
birthday.  I  watch  its  growth  with  g^eat  in- 
terest. It  has  the  reputation  among  all  who 
have  seen  it  that  it  occupies  one  of  the  loveliest 
sites  in  California,  and  that  in  a  moral  and  re- 
ligious and  educational  point  of  view  it  need 
not 

Fear  the  skeptic's  puny  hand 

While  near  the  school  the  church  will  stand ; 

Nor  fear  the  blinded  bigot's  rule 

While  near  the  church  shall  stand  the  school." 

360  Christ  in  the  IVord.  C.  M. 

Thou  lovely  Source  of  true  delight, 

Whom  I  unseen  adore  ! 
Unvail  thy  beauties  to  my  sight, 

That  I  may  love  thee  more. 

2  Thy  glory  o'er  creation  shines; 
But  in  thy  sacred  word 

I  read,  in  fairer,  brighter  lines. 
My  bleeding,  dying  Lord. 

3  'T  is  here,  whene'er  my  comforts  droop, 
And  sin  and  sorrow  rise, 

Tliy  love,  with  cheering  beams  of  hope. 
My  fainting  heart  supplies. 

4  But  ah  !  too  soon  the  pleasing  scene 
Is  clouded  o'er  with  pain  ; 

My  gloomy  fears  rise  dark  between, 
And  I  again  complain. 

5  Jesus,  my  Lord,  my  life,  my  light ! 
Oh,  come  with  blissful  ray  ; 

Break  radiant  through  the  shades  of  night, 
And  chase  my  fears  away. 

6  Then  shall  my  soul  with  rapture  trace 
The  wonders  of  thy  love: 

But  the  full  glories  of  thy  face 
Are  only  known  above. 

This  is  found,  like  the  rest  of  Miss  Anne 
Steele's  hymns,  in  the  quaint  old  leather-bound 
volume  of  Poems,  by  Theodosia ;  all  the  six 
stanzas  are  there,  entitled, "  Desiring  to  Know 
and  Love  Him  More."  To  see  Jesus  Christ 
as  revealed  in  the  Bible,  to  learn  of  him  and 
draw  closer  to  him  as  he  comes  to  light  in  the 
Word — this  is  the  earliest  and  most  persistent 
longing  of  a  truly  regenerate  soul.  Compare 
the  experience  expressed  in  this  hymn  with 
that  which  President  Finney  has  himself  re- 
corded ;  thus  he  wrote :  "  When  I  saw  my 
duty  I  took  the  sponge  and  wiped  the  black- 
board clean,  and  said  to  the  Lord,  'Write  what 
you  will  and  I  will  do  it.'  "  He  gave  his  whole 
soul  to  God,  and  through  this  act  his  spiritual 
eyes  became  marvelously  clear.  Hence  the 
vision  he  had  of  God's  glor^'.  He  was  so  im- 
pressed with  the  divine  character  that,  like 
David  Brainerd,  he  "saw  the  sweetness  and 
happiness  of  being  God's  subject  and  at  his 
disposal."  His  soul  seemed  to  break  with  the 
longing  that  God  might  be  glorified.  Out  of 
this  view  of  the  Divine  Being  sprang  his  un- 
conquerable faith,  a  faith  which  grew  stronger 
day  by  day  from  feeding  on  the  Word  of  God. 
Out  of  this  also  sprang  his  consuming  desire 


i68 


THE   LORD   JESUS   CHRIST. 


to  win  souls.  He  could  not  endure  to  think 
of  the  way  God  was  treated  by  men.  When 
he  gave  himself  up  to  God,  it  meant  an  eter- 
nity of  glad  service,  which  he  would  enter  upon 
at  once.     Not  a  moment  was  lost. 

361  '' A Itog-i'ther  Lovely."  CM. 

Majestic  sweetness  sits  enthroned 

Upon  the  Saviour's  brow  ; 
His  head  with  radiant  glories  crowned, 

His  lips  with  grace  o'erflow. 

2  No  mortal  can  with  him  compare. 
Among  the  sons  of  men  ; 

Fairer  is  he  than  all  the  fair 
That  fill  the  heavenly  train. 

3  He  saw  me  plunged  in  deep  distress, 
He  flew  to  my  relief; 

For  me  he  bore  the  shameful  cross. 
And  carried  all  my  grief 

4  To  him  I  owe  my  life  and  breath. 
And  all  the  joys  I  have ; 

He  makes  me  triumph  over  death. 
He  saves  me  from  the  grave. 

5  To  heaven,  the  place  of  his  abode, 
He  brings  my  weary  feet ; 

Shows  me  the  glories  of  my  God, 
And  makes  my  joy  complete. 

6  Since  from  his  bounty  I  receive 
Such  proofs  of  love  divine, 

Had  I  a  thousand  hearts  to  give. 
Lord !  they  should  all  be  thine. 

Rev.  Samuel  Stennett  contributed  this 
familiar  hymn  to  Rip-bon's  Selection,  pub- 
lished in  1787.  It  consisted  at  first  of  nine 
stanzas,  all  of  which  are  good,  but  the  piece 
has  had  to  be  shortened  in  the  later  compila- 
tions for  convenience  in  singing.  The  author 
gave  to  it  as  a  title  "  Chief  among  Ten 
Thousand;  or,  the  Excellencies  of  Christ," 
and  annexed  to  it  as  a  Scripture  reference 
"  Canticles  5:10-16."  For  many  years  it 
has  been  married  to  the  tune  of  Ortonville  in 
this  countr}^  The  music  was  composed  by 
the  venerated  Thomas  Hastings  for  children's 
use,  but  it  was  a  failure  as  a  Sundav-school 
piece,  and  reached  its  popularity  in  the  pray- 
er-meeting, where  it  was  always  welcome. 

362  The  Name  of  Jesus  C.  M. 

There  is  a  name  I  love  to  hear ; 

I  love  to  sing  its  worth  : 
It  sounds  like  music  in  mine  ear — 

The  sweetest  name  on  earth. 

2  It  tells  me  of  a  Saviour's  love 
Who  died  to  set  me  free; 

It  tells  me  of  his  precious  blood — 
The  sinner's  perfect  plea. 

3  It  tells  me  of  a  Father's  smile 
Beaming  upon  his  child  ; 

It  cheers  me  through  this  "  little  while," 
Through  desert,  waste,  and  wild. 

4  It  tells  of  One  whose  loving  heart 
Can  feel  my  smallest  woe— ^ 

Who  in  each  sorrow  bears  a  part 
That  none  can  bear  below. 


5  It  bids  my  trembling  soul  rejoice, 

And  dries  each  rising  tear; 
It  tells  me  in  a  "  still  small  voice," 

To  trust,  and  not  to  fear. 

The  hymn  here  given  has  been  considered 
of  sufficient  importance  by  the  author  of  An- 
glican Hymnology  to  be  counted  as  a  Third- 
Rank  Hymn  of  the  future,  yet  it  is  not  the 
one  by  which  its  author,  Rev.  Frederick 
Whitfield,  is  most  generally  known,  but  that 
beginning  "  I  need  thee,  precious  Jesus."  He 
was  born  at  Threapwood,  Shropshire,  Eng- 
land, January  7,  1829,  and  was  educated  at 
Trinity  College,  Dublin,  graduating  with  the 
degree  of  B.  A.  in  1859.  After  his  ordination 
he  became  successively  curate  of  Otley,  vicar 
of  Kirby-Ravensworth,  curate  of  Greenwich, 
vicar  of  St.  John's,  Bexley-Heath,  London, 
and  vicar  of  St.  Mary's,'  Hastings.  Mr. 
Whitfield  has  written  much  both  in  prose 
and  verse,  among  his  works  being  Spiritual 

Unfolding  from  the  Word  of  Life ;  Voices 
from    the    Valley  Testifying  of  fesus ;    The 

Word  Utivailed ;  and  Gleanings  from  Scrip- 
ture. The  hymn  we  quote  was  written  in 
1855. 

363  The  entry  into  Jerusalem.  L.  M.. 

Ride  on !  ride  on  in  majesty ! 

In  lowly  pomp  ride  on  to  die: 

O  Christ,  thy  triumphs  now  begin 

O'er  captive  death  and  conquered  sin. 

2  Ride  on  !  ride  on  in  majesty ! 
The  angel  armies  of  the  sky 

Look  down  with  sad  and  wondering  eyes 
To  see  the  approaching  sacrifice. 

3  Ride  on  !  ride  on  in  majesty ! 
The  last  and  fiercest  strife  is  nigh : 
The  Father  on  his  sapphire  throne 
Awaits  his  own  anointed  Son. 

4  Ride  on  !  ride  on  in  majesty ! 
In  lowly  pomp  ride  on  to  die ; 
Bow  thy  meek  head  to  mortal  pain ; 
Then  take,  O  God,  thy  power,  and  reign. 

The  name  of  Rev.  Henry  Hart  Milman, 
D.  D.,  is  as  well  known  to  literature  as  to- 
theology.  He  is  one  of  the  few  men  whose 
talents  have  been  recognized  and  rewarded 
justly  in  this  life,  as  the  various  high  posi- 
tions he  occupied  in  the  Church  of  England 
amply  testify.  He  was  the  youngest  son  of 
Sir  Francis  Milman,  Court  Physician  to 
George  III.,  and  was  born  February  10, 
1 79 1.  He  began  his  education  at  Dr.  Bur- 
ney's  school  in  Greenwich,  and  continued  it 
at  Eton.  After  a  brilliant  career  at  Oxford, 
he  was  appointed  Poetry  Professor  of  his 
Alma  Mater  in  1821.  Here  he  remained 
until  1 830,  during  which  time  he  wrote  many 
poems  and  plays,  and  reached  the  height  of 
his  fame  as  a  poet.  Thereafter  his  mind 
turned  from  poetry  to  theology,  and  he  wrote 
his  remarkable  History  ofthefews.     In  1835 


LIFE   AND   CHARACTER. 


169 


DEAN  H.   H.   MILMAN. 

he  became  by  appointment  of  Sir  Robert  Peel, 
Canon  of  Westminster  and  rector  of  St.  Mar- 
garet's ;  and  in  1 849  he  became  Dean  of  St. 
Paul's.  From  that  time  until  his  death  Dean 
Milman  wrote  and  published  many  valuable 
works  on  history  and  biography.  He  is  said 
to  have  been  a  fine  conversationalist,  and 
numbered  among  his  intimate  friends  Bishop 
Heber,  Hallam,  Macaulay,  and  Dean  Stanley. 
He  wrote  only  thirteen  hymns  ;  but  these  are 
of  a  high  order  of  excellence,  and  all  are  in 
common  use.  The  piece  quoted  is  specially 
adapted  for  the  Palm  Sunday  service,  and 
appeared  first  in  1827  in  a  volume  of  hymns 
published  by  the  widow  of  Bishop  Heber. 
He  died  at  Sunninghill,  near  Ascot,  Septem- 
ber 24,  1868. 

364  The  unspeakable  Gift.  L.  M. 

Oh,  love,  how  deep !  how  broad !  how  high  ! 
It  fills  the  heart  with  ecstasy. 
That  God,  the  Son  of  God,  should  take 
Our  mortal  form,  for  mortal's  sake. 

2  He  sent  no  angel  to  our  race. 
Of  higher  or  of  lower  place, 

But  wore  the  robe  of  human  frame, 
And  he  himself  to  this  world  came. 

3  For  us  baptized,  for  us  he  bore 
His  holy  fast,  and  hungered  sore; 
For  us  temptations  sharp  he  knew. 
For  us,  the  tempter  overthrew. 

4  For  us  he  prayed,  for  us  he  taught. 
For  us  his  daily  works  he  wrought — 
By  words  and  signs  and  actions  thus 
Still  seeking,  not  himself,  but  us. 


5  For  us.  to  wicked  men  betrayed, 
Scourgea,  mocked,  in  crown  of  thorns  arrayed, 
He  bore  the  shameful  cross  and  death  ; 

For  us  at  length  gave  up  his  breath. 

6  To  him  whose  boundless  love  has  won 
Salvation  for  us  through  his  Son, 

To  God  the  Father  glory  be, 
Both  now  and  through  eternity. 

Rev.  John  Mason  Neale,  D.  D.,  translated 
these  stanzas  from  the  old  fifteenth  century 
hymn,  which  is  so  fine  that  one  regrets  to  say 
it  is  anonymous,  "O  Amor,  qiiatn  exs/aizciis." 
It  will  have  to  stand  in  its  immortality,  like 
Cologne  Cathedral  with  its  forgotten  archi- 
tect, remarkable  for  its  own  beauty  rather 
than  for  the  history  of  its  construction.  The 
version  of  it  now  before  us  was  published  in 
the  Hymnal  Noted,  1854.  The  manuscript 
Latin  is  preserved  at  Karlsruhe.  The  won- 
derful picture  of  our  Lord's  human  life,  that 
is  to  say,  the  matchless  and  inspiring  fact  of 
the  Incarnation  of  God  in  the  person  of  Jesus 
Christ,  and  the  biography  of  Immanuel  which 
grew  out  of  it,  is  what  constitutes  the  theme 
of  this  song.  "  God  was  manifest  in  the 
flesh,  justified  in  the  Spirit,  seen  of  angels, 
preached  unto  the  Gentiles,  believed  on  in  the 
world,  received  up  into  glory." 

365  John  the  Baptist.  L.  M. 

On  Jordan's  bank  the  Baptist's  cry 
Announces  that  the  Lord  is  nigh  ; 
Awake,  and  hearken,  for  he  bnngs 
Glad  tidings  of  the  King  of  kings. 

2  Then  cleansed  be  every  breast  from  sin ; 
Make  straight  the  way  for  God  within ; 
Prepare  we  in  our  hearts  a  home 
Where  such  a  mighty  guest  may  come. 

3  For  thou  art  our  salvation,  Lord, 
Our  refuge,  and  our  great  reward  ; 
Without  thy  grace  we  waste  away, 
Like  flowers  that  wither  and  decay. 

4  To  heal  the  sick  stretch  out  thine  hand, 
And  bid  the  fallen  sinner  stand  ; 

Shine  forth,  and  let  thy  light  restore 
Earth's  own  true  loveliness  once  more. 

This  favorite  Advent  hymn  is  a  translation 
by  Rev.  John  Chandler  from  the  Latin  Jor- 
dam's  or  as  pravia  of  Charles  Coffin  of 
Rheims,  who  contributed  it  to  the  Parts 
Breinary  in  1736.  The  English  rendering 
first  appeared  in  Hymns  of  the  Primitive 
Church,  1837. 

John  the  Baptist  was  a  reality.  Virgil  tells 
us  that  when  ^neas  descended  into  Hades 
to  visit  his  father,  he  came  to  Charon's  ferry 
across  the  infernal  river.  As  he  stepped  into 
the  light  boat,  accustomed  to  carry  only 
ghosts,  so  heavy  a  weight  of  a  living  man 
made  the  craft  tremble  and  creak  through  all 
the  length  of  its  sewed  seams.  We  can  pre- 
sume that  the  hollow  forms  of  social  life  in 
those    wretched     days     were    writhed    and 


170 


THE  LORD  JESUS  CHRIST. 


Strained,  if  not  shattered,  by  an  uncompro- 
mising reality  of  manhood  Hke  that  of  John 
the  Baptist  at  the  Jordan.  He  was  a  man 
among  the  shadows  of  men.  He  had  an 
actual  "  idea."  He  shook  off  the  shams  of 
religion,  and  told  men  a  great  deal  more 
about  religion  itself  than  they  ever  knew  be- 
fore. This  being  with  the  uncouth  hair  and 
the  scant  garment  and  the  bronzed  face  and 
the  piercing  eye  disdained  all  the  adventi- 
tious shows  of  authority  and  drove  his  argu- 
ments straight  toward  the  consciences  of 
men.  He  put  himself  within  reach  of  living 
people.  Only  he  shred  away  the  vails  and 
tinsels  and  mockeries  of  an  outward  show ; 
he  tore  up  traditions  and  mere  command- 
ments of  men. 

Suddenly  was  heard  a  voice  in  the  wilder- 
ness. There  was  singular  pathos  in  it,  as 
there  is  in  all  human  tones  that  have  power. 
But  it  had,  besides  that,  a  sort  of  vibrating 
ring  in  it  which  intimated  a  challenge.  Ex- 
perts say  that  idiots,  even  in  the  midst  of  a 
gibbering  frolic,  will  pause  abruptly  to  listen 
to  the  sound  of  a  musical  instrument ;  per- 
haps some  vague  recollection  of  primal  har- 
monies in  a  healthy  nature  before  it  was 
shattered  may  be  awakened  by  the  stir  near 
by  ;  the  soul  seems  seeking  to  render  answer, 
but  only  succeeds  in  giving  wistful  attention. 
That  was  not  a  loud  voice  in  those  days 
down  by  the  Dead  Sea,  but  all  Judea  heard 
it ;  and  up  the  Jordan  it  rushed  with  more 
than  the  usual  celerity ;  it  certainly  in  due 
time  reached  the  villagers  in  the  land  of  Gen- 
nesaret,  for  some  of  them  journeyed  at  once 
towards  it — notably,  Simon,  son  of  Jonas, 
and  John  and  James  and  Andrew,  who  were 
destined  to  figure  in  the  train  of  Jesus 
Christ. 

366  Life  for  winning  souls.  L.  M. 

O  Master,  let  me  walk  with  thee 
In  lowly  paths  of  service  free ; 
Tell  me  thy  secret ;  help  me  bear 
The  strain  of  toil,  the  fret  of  care. 

2  Help  me  the  slow  of  heart  to  move 
By  some  clear  winning  word  of  love; 
Teach  me  the  wayward  feet  to  stay, 
And  guide  them  in  the  homeward  way. 

3  Teach  me  thy  patience ;  still  with  thee 
In  closer,  dearer  company, 

In  work  that  keeps  faith  sweet  and  strong. 
In  trust  that  triumphs  over  wrong. 

4  In  hope  that  sends  a  shining  ray 
Far  down  the  future's  broadening  way, 
In  peace  that  only  thou  canst  give. 
With  thee,  O  Master,  let  me  live ! 

As  editor  of  the  New  York  Independent 
and  of  the  Sunday  Afternoon,  and  as  a  pas- 
tor, Rev.  Washington  Gladden,  D.  D.,  is  better 


known  to  the  public  than  as  a  hymn-writer. 
He  was  born  at  Pittsgrove,  Pa.,  February  11, 
1836,  educated  at  Williams  College,  graduat- 
ing in  1859.  Subsequently  he  took  a  theo- 
logical course  and  became  a  Congregational 
minister.  He  once  was  the  pastor  of  a 
church  in  Springfield,  Mass. ;  but  his  present 
charge  is  in  Columbus,  Ohio. 

The  hymn  here  quoted  first  appeared  in 
the  Sunday  Afternoon,  in  March,  1879,  under 
the  title,  "  Walking  with  God."  It  was  com- 
posed of  three  eight-line  stanzas,  of  which 
only  the  first  and  last  are  given,  as  the  sec- 
ond is  not  adapted  to  the  purposes  of  promis- 
cuous public  worship,  although  admirable  for 
private  devotion. 


367 


"Altogether  lovely." 


P.  M. 


Fairest  Lord  Jesus !  Ruler  of  all  nature! 

O  thou  of  God  and  man  the  Son ! 
Thee  will  I  cherish,  thee  will  I  honor. 

Thou  !  my  soul's  glory,  joy,  and  crown. 

2  Fair  are  the  meadows,  fairer  still  the  woodlands. 
Robed  in  the  blooming  garb  of  spring; 

Jesus  is  fairer!  Jesus  is  purer! 

Who  makes  the  woeful  heart  to  sing. 

3  Fair  is  the  sunshine,  fairer  still  the  moonlight, 
And  fair  the  twinkling  starry  host ; 

Jesus  shines  brighter!  Jesus  shines  purer! 
Than  all  the  angels  heaven  can  boast. 


^^i^S^M^: 


THE  OBERAMMERGAU  CHRIST. 

It  is  said  that  the  German  knights  of  the 
twelfth  century  on  their  way  to  Jerusalem 
were  wont  to  sing  the  original  of  this  hymn. 
Such  a  statement,  however,  is  scarcely  com- 
patible with  the  fact  that  the  piece  cannot  be 
traced  to  any  date  earlier  than  1677.  It  is  to 
be  found  in  the  Fulda  Hymn-Book,  1695,  and 


LIFE   ANP   CHARACTER. 


171 


the  translation  here  cited  appeared  in  1850  in 
Church-Chorals  and  Choir  Studies,  a  com- 
pilation of  hymns  by  Richard  S.  Willis.  Al- 
though for  some  time  Mr.  Willis'  name  has 
been  affixed  to  this  poem,  he  has  lately  dis- 
claimed all  literary  connection  with  it,  and 
says  he  does  not  know  the  name  of  the  real 
translator,  nor  where  he  obtained  it  for  his 
book. 

Richard  Storrs  Willis  is  a  brother  of  the 
poet  N.  P.  Willis,  and  was  born  in  Boston, 
Mass.,  18 19.  He  resides  in  Detroit,  Mich., 
and  has  been  well  known  as  a  musician  and 
as  a  writer  on  musical  art  for  many  years. 

The  secret  of  the  Crusaders'  successes  in 
all  that  wild  conflict  with  the  Saracens  which 
resulted  in  the  capture  of  Jerusalem,  is  found 
in  the  passionate,  individual,  personified  ideal 
they  had  of  Jesus  Christ  as  the  rightful  King 
of  the  world,  the  Glory  of  the  race,  the  Head 
of  the  Church.  They  seemed  to  see  him  as 
they  prayed  ;  they  had  visions  of  him  in  the 
air ;  they  thought  of  him  and  spoke  of  him  as 
with  the  fondness  of  a  lover.  And  after- 
wards, when  the  returning  knights  covered 
the  continent,  they  left  their  impress  on  all 
the  traditions  and  faiths  of  the  people.  Out 
of  this  grew  much  of  that  deeply  reverent  and 
exquisitely  artistic  conception  of  the  Ober- 
ammergau  Passion  Play  which  arrests  the 
admiration  of  the  world.  Joseph  Mayr's  per- 
sonification of  Jesus  may  be  no  portrait  of 
the  Master,  but  those  who  look  upon  that 
marvelous  countenance  in  the  agony  may  be 
pardoned  for  saying  it  made  them  think  more 
than  ever  before  of  the  Saviour  of  men. 

368  The  Great  Teacher.  L.  M. 

How  sweetly  flowed  the  gospel  sound 
From  lips  of  gentleness  and  grace, 

When  listening  thousands  gathered  round, 
And  joy  and  gladness  filled  the  place ! 

2  From  heaven  he  came,  of  heaven  he  spoke, 
To  heaven  he  led  his  followers'  way ; 

Dark  clouds  of  gloomy  night  he  broke, 
Unvailing  an  immortal  day. 

3  "Come,  wanderers,  to  my  Father's  home, 
Come,  all  ye  weary  ones,  and  rest." 

Yes,  sacred  Teacher,  we  will  come. 
Obey  thee,  love  thee,  and  be  blest ! 

4  Decay  then,  tenements  of  dust ; 
Pillars  of  earthly  pride,  decay : 

A  nobler  mansion  waits  the  just, 
And  Jesus  has  prepared  the  way. 

One  of  Sir  John  Bowring's  most  popular 
hymns,  in  wide  use  through  all  the  churches. 
It  celebrates  the  fame  of  that  Great  Teacher 
who  spake  as  never  man  spake,  and  whom 
the  common  people  always  heard  gladly. 
We  have  at  the  present  day  too  much  of 
harangue  and  speculation  in  the  pulpit,  too 


much  that  goes  out  in  the  air  over  the  heads 
of  the  listeners  who  want  to  hear  the  Master 
saying,  "  Come,  all  ye  weary  ones,  and  rest." 
A  friend  of  the  poet  -  clergyman,  William 
Bowles,  tells  how  he  spent  a  Saturday  even- 
ing at  Bremhill  rectory,  where  Dr.  Croly  was 
also  a  guest,  having  come  to  preach  the  fol- 
lowing day.  Dr.  Croly  was  remarkable  for 
his  powerful  eloquence,  while  Mr.  Bowles' 
style  was  characterized  by  simplicity.  Lord 
Lansdowne  was  the  most  distinguished  mem- 
ber of  the  village  congregation.  In  the  course 
of  the  conversation  the  good  rector  suddenly 
exclaimed  to  the  narrator,  "  I  hope  your 
friend  will  not  preach  to  the  marquis  to- 
morrow, but  to  the  peasantry."  The  hint 
was  not  lost,  as  the  eloquent  preacher  deliv- 
ered a  most  pastoral  and  beautiful  discourse, 
alike  instructive  to  peer  and  plowman. 

369  "Holy,  harmless."  L.  M. 

How  beauteous  were  the  marks  divine 
That  in  thy  meekness  used  to  shine, 
That  lit  thy  lonely  pathway,  trod 
In  wondrous  love,  O  Son  of  God!- 

2  Oh,  who  like  thee,  so  calm,  so  bright. 
So  pure,  so  made  to  live  in  light  ? 

Oh,  who  like  thee  did  ever  go 

So  patient  through  a  world  of  woe? 

3  Oh,  who  like  thee  so  humbly  bore 
The  scorn,  the  scoffs  of  men,  before? 
So  meek,  forgiving,  godlike,  high, 
So  glorious  in  humility? 

4  Even  death,  which  sets  the  prisoner  free, 
Was  pang,  and  scoff,  and  scorn  to  thee: 
Yet  love  through  all  thy  torture  glowed, 
And  mercy  with  thy  life-blood  flowed. 

5  Oh,  in  thy  light  be  mine  to  go, 
Illuming  all  my  way  of  woe ! 
And  give  me  ever  on  the  road 

To  trace  thy  footsteps,  Son  of  God. 

Rev.  Arthur  Cleveland  Coxe,  D.  D.,  LL.  D., 
published  this  hymn  in  his  Christian  Ballads, 
1840.  It  consists  there  of  seven  double 
stanzas,  and  from  these  the  ones  are  chosen 
which  seemed  fittest  for  singing  in  the  ordi- 
nary services  of  the  house  of  God.  The  now 
venerable  author  was  born  in  Mendham,  N.  J., 
May  10, 1 81 8,  where  his  father,  the  Rev.  Sam- 
uel Hanson  Cox,  D.  D.,  was  settled  as  the 
pastor  of  the  Presbyterian  church  in  the 
days  before  his  great  fame  had  brought  him 
forward  into  the  celebrity  he  attained  after- 
ward as  one  of  the  leaders  of  the  denomina- 
tion. Between  this  father  and  this  son  there 
were  always  differences  of  opinion  that  gave 
rise  to  anecdotes  without  number  which  have 
grown  trite  with  repetition — differences  which 
were  much  more  serious  than  badinage  could 
cover.  -When  the  old  man  eloquent  was  pas- 
tor of  the  First  Presbyterian  Church  of  Brook- 
lyn, where  probably  his  best  work  was  done 


172 


THE  LORD  JESUS  CHRIST. 


REV.   ARTHUR  CLEVELAND  COXE,   D.    D. 

and  his  highest  reputation  reached,  this  son 
made  public  profession  of  religion,  and  his 
name  stands  still  upon  the  roll  of  the  mem- 
bers. 

In  1838  Arthur  Cleveland  Coxe  graduated 
from  the  University  of  New  York,  changed 
his  name  and  his  church  affiliation,  and  was 
thereafter  reckoned  as  an  Episcopalian.  He 
was  admitted  to  the  diaconate  in  that  de- 
nomination in  St.  Paul's  Chapel,  New  York, 
June  27,  1 841  ;  to  the  priesthood,  September 
25,  1842.  His  first  charge  seems  to  have 
been  that  of  St.  Ann's  Church  in  Morrisania, 
but  shortly  afterward  he  became  the  rector 
of  St.  John's  Church  in  Hartford,  Conn.,  and 
then  in  1854  he  removed  to  Maryland,  and 
was  the  rector  of  Grace  Church  in  Baltimore. 
Nine  years  of  faithful  and  brilliant  service 
there  brought  him  to  the  rectorship  of  Cal- 
vary Church  in  New  York  city.  While  thus 
settled  he  was  elected  to  the  office  of  Bishop 
of  the  Diocese  of  Western  New  York.  He 
was  consecrated  to  the  Episcopate  at  Geneva, 
N.  Y.,  January  4,  1865,  since  which  he  has 
resided  in  Buffalo,  and  exercised  his  office 
with  great  vigor  and  wide  popularity  among 
the  churches. 

370  " He  healed  them."  L.  M. 

When,  like  a  stranger  on  our  sphere, 
The  lowly  Jesus  wandered  here, 
Where'er  he  went,  affliction  fled, 
And  sickness  reared  her  fainting  head. 

2  The  eye  that  rolled  in  irksome  night, 
Beheld  his  face — for  God  is  light ; 
The  opening  ear,  the  loosened  tongue, 
His  precepts  heard,  his  praises  sung. 


3  With  bounding  steps  the  halt  and  lame. 
To  hail  their  great  Deliverer  came; 

O'er  the  cold  grave  he  bowed  his  head, 
He  spake  the  word,  and  raised  the  dead. 

4  Despairing  madness,  dark  and  wild, 
In  his  inspiring  presence  smiled  ; 
The  storm  of  horror  ceased  to  roll, 
And  reason  lightened  through  the  soul. 

5  Through  paths  of  loving-kindness  led, 
Where  Jesus  triumphed  we  would  tread  ; 
To  all,  with  willing  hands  dispense 
The  gifts  of  our  benevolence. 

James  Montgomery  included  this  neede  I 
but  rather  commonplace  hymn  in  his  collec- 
tion, and  entitled  it,  "  For  the  Opening  of  the 
Sheffield  General  Infirmary,  October,  1797." 
This  date  marks  the  time  when,  under  his 
somewhat  peculiar  persecutions,  the  author 
was  held  in  prison,  and  solaced  his  tedious 
hours  by  writing  religious  poetry.  It  is  pos- 
sible that  these  stanzas,  so  patiently  com- 
mending the  miracles  of  our  Lord  as  exem- 
plary of  the  truest  and  the  highest  benev- 
olence, were  composed  behind  the  grating  of 
a  cell. 

37  I  "How  shall  I  copy .?"  L.  M. 

How  shall  I  follow  him  I  serve? 

How  shall  I  copy  him  I  love? 
Nor  from  those  blessed  footsteps  swerve, 

Which  lead  me  to  his  seat  above? 

2  Lord^  should  my  path  through  suffering  lie. 
Forbid  it  I  should  e'er  repine ; 

Still  let  me  turn  to  Calvary, 
Nor  heed  my  griefs,  remembering  thine. 

3  Oh,  let  me  think  how  thou  didst  leave 
.  Untasted  every  pure  delight, 

To  fast,  to  faint,  to  watch,  to  grieve, 
The  toilsome  day,  the  homeless  night — 

4  To  faint,  to  grieve,  to  die  for  me! 
Thou  camest  not  thyself  to  please: 

And,  dear  as  earthly  comforts  be, 
Shall  I  not  love  thee  more  than  these? 

5  Yes !  I  would  count  them  all  but  loss, 
To  gain  the  notice  of  thine  eye: 

Flesh  shrinks  and  trembles  at  the  cross, 
But  thou  canst  give  the  victory. 

This  plain  piece  of  versification,  first  pub- 
lished in  the  Star  in  the  East,  1824,  owes  its 
popularity  and  power,  not  so  much  to  poetic 
excellence  in  its  construction  as  to  spiritual 
fervor  in  its  sentiment.  It  might  be  offered 
almost  as  the  chief  motto  of  Josiah  Conder's 
life  ;  he  wrote  it  from  his  full  heart.  It  aims 
to  identify  one's  life  with  Christ's  life ;  to  ac- 
cept him  as  the  Leader,  the  Model,  the  Mas- 
ter, of  one's  entire  existence.  It  is  this  intense 
regard  for  Jesus  the  Saviour  that  makes  itself 
felt  in  Conder's  hymns,  this  loyalty,  this  love, 
this  longing,  which  will  explain  the  fact  that 
the  number  of  his  accepted  pieces  in  common 
use  ranks  next  to  that  of  Watts  and  Wesley 
in  all  the  churches. 


LIFE   AND   CHARACIER. 


173 


372  The  Divine  Pattern.  L.  M. 

My  dear  Redeemer,  and  mv  Lord, 

1  read  my  duty  in  thy  word; 
But  in  thy  life  the  law  appears. 
Drawn  out  in  living  characters. 

2  Such  was  thy  truth  and  such  thy  zeal, 
Such  deference  to  thy  Father's  will, 
Such  love,  and  meekness  so  divine, 

I  would  transcribe  and  make  them  mine. 

3  Cold  mountains  and  the  midnight  air 
Witnessed  the  fervor  of  thy  prayer; 
The  desert  thy  temptations  knew. 
Thy  conflict  and  thy  victory-  too. 

4  Be  thou  my  pattern ;  make  me  bear 
More  of  thy  gracious  image  here; 

Then  God,  the  Judge,  shall  own  my  name 
Among  the  followers  of  the  Lamb. 

Dr.  Isaac  Watts  included  this  in  h.\s  Hymns, 
Book  II.,  No.  139,  as  illustrating  "  The  E.xam- 
ple  of  Christ."  It  is  a  tame  sort  of  poem;  it 
is  useful,  however,  in  certain  exigencies,  to 
follow  a  discourse  upon  the  believer's  con- 
formity to  Christ.  It  depicts  the  process  of 
studying  the  pattern,  of  transcribing  the  vir- 
tues, and  so  attaining  the  image  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  in  one's  self.  The  familiar  text  (Ephe- 
sians  5:1),  "Be  ye  therefore  followers  of  God, 
as  dear  children,"  is  rendered  rightly  in  the 
Revised  Version,  "  Be  ye  therefore  imitators 
of  God,  as  beloved  children."  This  command 
of  the  apostle  is  not  obeyed  so  easily  as,  at 
first  sight,  one  would  think.  It  requires  care 
and  patient  labor.  We  have  just  learned  of 
the  death  of  the  famous  painter,  Meissonier ; 
in  one  of  his  obituaries  this  incident  is  related 
concerning  his  persistent  and  ingenious  in- 
dustry in  doing  his  best  work :  "  Meissonier 
spared  no  pains  to  make  his  pictures  accurate 
in  detail  and  faithful  representatives  in  every 
respect.  When  he  painted  the  '1814'  he 
borrowed  the  emperor's  famous  blue  overcoat 
from  the  museum  where  it  was  carefully 
guarded  and  had  it  exactly  reproduced  by  a 
tailor.  To  secure  the  desired  atmospheric 
effects,  he  put  the  coat  on,  mounted  a  '  lay' 
horse,  and  painted  before  a  mirror  in  an  open 
room  on  his  roof  in  a  snow-storm.  He  was 
equally  exact  in  the  details  of  all  his  important 
pictures." 

373  An  unseen  Saviour.  7s,  6s.  D. 

O  Saviour,  precious  Saviour, 

Whom  yet  unseen  we  love, 
O  name  of  might  and  favor. 
All  other  names  above  ; 
Cho. — We  worship  thee,  we  bless  thee, 
To  thee  alone  we  sing  ; 
We  praise  thee  and  confess  thee. 
Our  holy  Lord  and  King. 

2  O  Bringer  of  salvation, 

Who  wondrously  hast  wrought, 
Thyself  the  revelation 
Of  love  beyond  our  thought ; — Cho. 

3  In  thee  all  fullness  dwelleth, 
All  grace  and  power  divine ; 

The  glory  that  excelleth, 
O  Son  of  God,  is  thine ; — Cho. 


4  Oh,  grant  the  consummation 

Of  this  our  song  above, 
In  endless  adoration 
And  everlasting  love ; 
Cho. — We  worship  thee,  we  bless  thee, 
To  thee  alone  we  sing  ; 
We  praise  thee  and  confess  thee, 
Our  gracious  Lord  and  King. 


FRANCES  RIDLEY  HAVERGAL. 

The  name  of  Frances  Ridley  Havergal  has 
become  to  thousands  of  Christians  in  all  parts 
of  the  world  a  household  word.  Born  Decem- 
ber 14,  1836,  she  was  the  youngest  daughter 
of  the  Rev.  W.  H.  Havergal,  then  rector 
of  Astley,  Worcestershire,  afterward  of  St. 
Nicholas,  Worcester,  England.  She  was  a 
singularly  bright,  clever  child,  early  giving 
promise  of  the  gifts  so  fully  developed  in  later 
years.  The  little  book  in  which  she  wrote 
her  childish  hymns  and  rhymes  begins  with 
verses  written  at  the  age  of  seven ;  from  nine 
years  old  upward  she  wrote  long  and  amus- 
ingly-descriptive letters  in  perfect  rhyme  and 
rhythm. 

Miss  Havergal  was  never  married.  She 
lived  a  happy,  peaceful,  and  useful  life,  en- 
gaged in  writing  books  of  prose  and  poetry. 
Her  health  was  precarious,  and  at  times  she 
suffered  painfully  from  disease.  But  her 
Christian  trust  was  supreme  over  every  trial. 


174 


THE   LORD  JESUS  CHRIST. 


She  had  an  intense  love  for  music  and  a  rare 
and  excellent  gift  in  the  composition  of  tunes. 
While  I  was  in  Leamington  once  a  friend 
pointed  out  to  me  the  very  piano  on  which 
she  used  to  play  familiarly  from  memory  the 
most  glorious  of  Handel's  strains  as  well  as 
those  of  Beethoven  and  Mendelssohn.  Her 
voice  was  wonderfully  expressive  and  sweet, 
though  never  very  strong.  So  she  lived  along 
with  a  rich  growth  of  divine  grace  derived 
from  her  sorrows  every  day.  By  and  by  she 
died  at  Caswall  Bay,  near  Swansea  in  Wales, 
June  3,  1879.  It  is  impossible  to  epitomize 
a  life  that  seems  so  full  of  courage,  faith, 
sympathy  for  others,  forgetfulness  of  self,  in- 
dustry and  intense  devotion,  as  this  of  that 
minister's  daughter  seems  to  us  who  judge  it 
as  a  whole.  She  wrote  so  many  books,  and 
sent  so  many  letters  :  it  was  marvelous.  And 
God  blessed  everything  she  did. 

This  hymn  was  written  at  Leamington  in 
1870,  and  published  in  a  volume  of  Miss 
Havergal's  poems.  Under  the  Surface,  1874, 
with  the  title,  "Our  King.— Psalm  45:11." 
It  has  four  stanzas  and  a  chorus. 

374  '' With  Palms."  7s,  6s.  D. 

All  glory,  laud,  and  honor 

To  thee,  Redeemer,  King ! 
To  whom  the  lips  of  children 

Made  sweet  hosannas  ring. 
Thou  art  the  King  of  Israel, 

Thou  David's  royal  Son, 
Who  in  the  Lord's  name  comest, 

The  King  and  bless6d  One. 

2  The  company  of  angels 
Are  praising  thee  on  high. 

And  mortal  men,  and  all  things 

Created,  make  reply. 
The  people  of  the  Hebrews 

With  palms  before  thee  went. 
Our  praise  and  prayer  and  anthetr 

Before  thee  we  present. 

3  To  thee  before  thy  passion 
They  sang  their  hymns  of  praise; 

To  thee  now  high  exalted 

Our  melody  we  raise. 
Thou  didst  accept  their  praises 

Accept  the  prayers  we  bring. 
Who  in  all  good  delightest, 

Thou  good  and  gracious  King. 

In  the  ninth  century,  very  near  its  begin- 
ning, for  the  author  died  in  821  A.  D.,  the 
old  Latin  hymn  beginning,  ''Gloria,  laus,  et 
honor"  was  composed  by  Theodolphus,  the 
Bishop  of  Orleans.  The  translation  of  it  into 
English  was  made  by  Rev.  Dr.  John  Mason 
Neale,  and  will  be  found  now  in  his  Mediae- 
val Hymns.  At  one  time  in  his  history  this 
excellent  bishop  was  accused  by  his  enemies 
of  aiding  a  conspiracy  against  the  reigning 
monarch.  He  was  thrown  into  prison  at 
Anjou,  and  it  is  said  by  some  authorities  that 
it  was  during  this  period  of  confinement  that 


he  wrote  the  fine  poem  which  bears  his 
name.  At  all  events  it  is  a  historic  fact  that 
he  chanted  it  himself  on  one  Palm  Sunday 
from  the  grated  window  of  his  cell.  It  com- 
memorated the  entry  of  Jesus  Christ  into 
Jerusalem,  when  the 'people  of  the  Hebrews 
\yith  palms  before  him  went,  and  when  the 
lips  of  children  made  sweet  hosannas  ring. 

375  "God,  our  Saviour."  "s,  6s.  D. 

To  thee,  my  God  and  Saviour! 

My  heart  exulting  sings. 
Rejoicing  in  thv  favor, 

Almighty  King  of  kings! 

1  '11  celebrate  thy  glory. 

With  all  thy  saints  above, 
And  tell  the  joyfiil  story 
Of  thy  redeeming  love. 

2  Soon  as  the  morn  with  roses 
Bedecks  the  dewy  east, 

And  when  the  sun  reposes 

Upon  the  ocean's  breast. 
My  voice,  in  supplication, 

W'ell  pleased  the  Lord  shall  hear : 
Oh,  grant  me  thy  salvation. 

And  to  my  soul  draw  near. 

3  By  thee,  through  life  supported, 
I  '11  pass  the  dangerous  road. 

With  heavenly  hosts  escorted, 

Up  to  thy  bright  abode; 
Then  cast  my  crown  before  thee, 

And,  ail  my  conflicts  o'er, 
Unceasingly  adore  thee — 

What  could  an  angel  more? 

Rev.  Thomas  Haweis,  LL.  B.,  M.  D.,  was 
born  at  Truro  in  Cornwall,  1732,  of  an  aristo- 
cratic family,  and  received  a  liberal  educa- 
tion. He  was  converted  while  still  very 
young,  and  became  a  devoted  Christian.  Al- 
though he  had  begun  the  study  of  medicine, 
he  entered  at  Christ's  College,  Cambridge  ;  he 
was  graduated,  and  immediately  took  holy 
orders.  Appomted  in  1757  to  a  curacy  in 
Oxford,  his  success  as  a  preacher  was  marked, 
but  he  was  not  allowed  to  remain  long.  The 
bishop  of  the  diocese  disagreed  with  his 
views,  and  he  removed  to  London  to  assume 
a  charge  at  the  Lock  Hospital,  a  place  where 
peculiarly  depraved  characters  were  to  be 
met.  His  work  there  was  faithful,  but  in 
1763  he  was  transferred  to  the  rectorate  of 
All  Saints,  at  Aldwincle ;  there  he  remained 
to  the  end  of  his  honored  and  prosperous 
life.  He  was  chaplain  to  Lady  Huntingdon, 
and  officiated  for  several  years  at  her  private 
chapel.  .  He  died  peacefully  at  Bath,  Feb- 
ruary 1 1 ,  1 820.  Dr.  Haweis  was  a  man  of 
great  learning  and  wrote  about  two  hundred 
and  fifty  hymns,  many  of  which  are  still  in 
common  use.  He  said  of  them  :  "  They  are 
such  as  my  heart  indited,  and  they  speak  of 
the  things  which  I  have  believed  concerning 
my  God  and  King.  They  all  point  to  one 
object — to  a  crucified  Jesus." 


LIFE   AND   CHARACTER. 


175 


376  Children's  Hosannas.  7s,  6s.  D. 

When,  his  salvation  bringing, 

To  Zion  Jesus  came, 
The  children  all  stood  singing, 

Hosanna  to  his  name; 
Nor  did  their  zeal  offend  him, 

But,  as  he  rode  along, 
He  let  them  still  attend  him. 

Well  pleased  to  hear  their  song. 

2  And  since  the  Lord  retaineth 
His  love  for  children  still, 

Though  now  as  King  he  reigneth 

On  Zion's  heavenly  hill, 
We'll  flock  around  his  banner. 

Who  sits  upon  the  throne. 
And  raise  a  loud  hosanna 

To  David's  royal  Son. 

3  For  should  we  fail  proclaiming 
Our  great  Redeemer's  praise. 

The  stones,  our  silence  shaming, 

Would  their  hosanna  raise. 
But  should  we  only  render 

The  tribute  of  our  words? 
No ;  while  our  hearts  are  tender, 

They,  too,  should  be  the  Lord's. 

Instantly,  upon  reading  these  stanzas,  we 
have  a  vision  of  the  triumphal  entry  of  the 
Christ  into  Jerusalem :  "And  the  children 
crying  in  the  temple  and  saying,  Hosanna  to 
the  Son  of  David  !"  The  name  of  the  Rev. 
John  King  has  been  affixed  to  the  hymn,  but 
to  establish  his  identity  as  its  author  is  rather 
difficult.  It  appeared  first  in  the  Psalmist, 
A  Selectt07i  of  Psalms  and  Hymns,  published 
in  London  in  1830,  with  the  signature 
"  J.  King."  Rev.  John  Gwythe,  one  of  the 
compilers  of  that  book,  stated  that  this  stood 
for  "  Joshua  King,  late  Vicar  of  Hull."  From 
the  registers  of  Eyton  Church,  Wellington, 
Shropshire,  where  Mr.  King  was  at  one  time 
curate,  we  learn  that  his  Christian  name  was 
John ;  that  he  graduated  from  Queen's  Col- 
lege, Cambridge,  in  18 14;  and  became  in- 
cumbent of  Christ  Church,  Hull,  in  1822. 
He  died  September  12,  1858. 

This  hymn  is  very  familiar  to  congrega- 
tions on  both  sides  of  the  sea,  and  is  a  special 
favorite  with  the  children  of  the  Sunday 
Schools.  It  has  been  deemed  worthy  a  place 
as  a  Third-Rank  Hymn  of  the  future  in  An- 
glican Hymnology. 

377  Matt.  II :  28.  7s,  6s.  D. 

"  Come  unto  me,  ye  wear>'. 

And  I  will  give  you  rest." 
Oh,  blessed  voice  of  Jesus, 

Which  comes  to  hearts  opprest ; 
It  tells  of  benediction. 

Of  pardon,  grace,  and  peace. 
Of  joy  that  hath  no  ending. 

Of  love  which  cannot  cease. 

2  "  Come  unto  me,  dear  children, 

And  I  will  give  you  light." 
Oh,  loving  voice  of  Jesus, 

Which  comes  to  cheer  the  night : 
Our  hearts  were  filled  with  sadness. 

And  we  had  lost  our  way, 
But  morning  brings  us  gladness, 

And  songs  the  break  of  day. 


3  "Come  unto  me,  ye  fainting, 
And  I  will  give  you  life." 

Oh,  peaceful  voice  of  Jesus, 
Which  comes  to  end  our  strife : 

The  foe  is  stem  and  eager. 
The  fight  is  fierce  and  long ; 

But  thou  hast  made  me  mighty, 
And  stronger  than  the  strong. 

4  "And  whosoever  cometh 
I  will  not  cast  him  out." 

Oh,  patient  love  of  Jesus, 
Wnich  drives  away  our  doubt : 

Which  calls  us — very  sinners, 
Unworthy  though  we  be 

Of  love  so  free  and  boundless — 
To  come,  dear  Lord,  to  thee. 

This  is  another  of  the  excellent  hymns  of 
the  surgeon — "  the  beloved  physician"  he 
might  well  be  called — William  Chatterton 
Dix.  It  was  published  first  in  the  People's 
//l/;««rt/ (English),  1867.  Its  plaintive  senti- 
ment (like  that  of  "  Lead,  kindly  Light,"  by 
Newman)  owes  much  to  the  matchless  music 
of  Dr.  Dykes,  to  which  it  is  usually  sung.  Vox 
Jesu  is  a  worthy  sister  to  Lux  Benigna  in 
the  circle  of  seraphic  tunes  on  earth.  The 
dramatic  force  of  the  piece  comes  from  its 
simpleness.  The  compiler  of  Laudes  Domini 
would  like  to  record  one  memory  which  is  full 
of  longing  for  a  chance  of  acknowledgment. 
Broken  in  health  almost  to  hopelessness,  he 
went  over  the  ocean  in  1881  for  rest.  At  St. 
Pancras'  Protestant  Episcopal  Church  in  Lon- 
don, he  was  privileged  to  listen  to  a  purely 
gospel  sermon,  preached  by  Rev.  Canon 
Spence.  It  was  one  of  the  plainest,  the 
strongest,  the  gentlest,  of  all  discourses  he 
ever  heard  from  a  Christian  pulpit ;  the  most 
truly  evangelical  in  doctrine  and  tender  in 
invitation.  And  now  as  he  sits  here  writing,  he 
humbly  hopes  some  chance  wind  or  bird  may 
take  his  thanks  to  that  preacher  for  the  help 
he  brought  him  in  his  sore  weakness  and 
heavy  trouble.  Then  one  male  voice  broke 
the  silence  after  prayer  with  two  lines  of  song 
— slowly  and  intelligibly  spoken,  as  Jesus  may 
have  spoken  them — "  Come  unto  me,  ye 
weary,  and  I  will  give  you  rest."  A  short 
pause  of  an  instant,  and  the  arches  rang  with 
the  full  choir :  "  Oh,  blessed  voice  of  Jesus  !" 
After  service  I  waited,  found  out  where  tune 
and  hymn  came  from,  and  gave  them  my 
highest  place  of  honor  as  the  best  I  shall  ever 
hear  this  side  of  heaven. 

378  Heaven  begun  below.  7s,  6s.  D. 

I  BUILD  on  this  foundation — 

That  Jesus  and  his  blood 
Alone  are  my  salvation. 

The  true  eternal  good. 
To  mine  his  Spirit  speaketh 

Sweet  words  of  soothing  power, 
How  God,  to  him  that  seeketh 

For  rest,  hath  rest  in  store. 


176 


THE    LORD   JESUS   CHRIST, 


2  My  merry  heart  is  springing. 

And  knows  not  how  to  pine : 
'T  is  fuli  of  joy  and  singing, 

And  radiancy  divine. 
The  sun  whose  smiles  so  cheer  me 

Is  Jesus  Christ  alone : 
To  have  him  always  near  me 

Is  heaven  itself  begun. 

Richard  Massie  is  an  English  Episcopalian, 
a  gentleman  of  wealth  and  leisure,  residing  at 
Pulford  Hall,  in  Coddington,  Cheshire.  Some 
very  fine  translations  of  Spitta's,  Luther's,  and 
Gerhardt's  hymns  into  English  have  rendered 
his  name  familiar  on  both  sides  of  the  ocean. 
He  is  the  eldest  of  a  family  of  twenty-two 
children,  and  was  born  June  i8,  1800,  in 
Chester,  where  his  father  was  for  many  years 
the  minister  over  the  parish  of  St.  Bride.  This 
hymn  was  rendered  by  him  from  the  one  of 
Rev.  Paul  Gerhardt  beginning,  "  1st  Got t  fur 
mich,  so  trete." 

379  "Fear  no  mote"  7s,  6s.  D. 

Oh,  how  shall  I  receive  thee, 

How  meet  thee  on  thy  way ; 
Blest  hope  of  ever>'  nation. 

My  soul's  delight  and  stay  ? 
O  Jesus,  Jesus,  give  me 

Now  Dy  thine  own  pure  light. 
To  know  w'hate'er  is  pleasing 

And  welcome  in  thy  sight. 

2  Thy  Zion  palms  is  strewing, 
And  branches  fresh  and  fair; 

My  soul,  in  praise  awaking, 

Her  anthem  shall  prepare. 
Perpetual  thanks  and  praises 

Forth  from  my  heart  shall  spring ; 
And  to  thy  name  the  service 

Of  all  my  powers  I  bring. 

3  Ye,  who  with  guilty  terror 
Are  trembling,  fear  no  more : 

With  love  and  grace  the  Saviour 

Shall  you  to  hope  restore. 
He  comes,  who  contrite  sinners 

Will  with  the  children  place. 
The  children  of  his  Father, 

The  heirs  of  life  and  grace. 

Rev.  Arthur  Tozer  Russell  translated  this 
from  Rev.  Paul  Gerhardt's  hymn,  "  Wie  soil 
ich  dich  empfangen"  1653.  The  piece  was 
published  in  his  Psalms  and  Hymns,  185 1. 
The  reference  evidently  is  to  the  songs  of  the 
children  in  the  temple  when  they  bade  a  wel- 
come to  Jesus  as  he  made  his  royal  entr>'  into 
Jerusalem  just  before  his  crucifixion.  It  con- 
stitutes a  fitting  piece  for  what  is  celebrated 
in  many  of  the  churches  as  Palm  Sunday  in 
the  Christian  year. 


380 


Hebrews  13 :  13. 


7s,  6s.  D. 


Mv  Saviour,  I  would  own  thee 

Amid  the  world's  proud  scorn, 
The  world  that  mocked  and  crowned  thee 

With  diadem  of  thorn  ; 
The  world  that  now  rejects  thee 

Makes  nothing  of  thy  love, 
Counts  not  the  grace  and  pity 

That  brought  thee  from  above. 


2  My  Lord,  my  Master,  help  me 
To  walk  apart  with  thee 

Outside  the  camp,  where  only 

Thy  beauty  I  mav  see : 
Far  from  the  world's  loud  turmoil, 

Far  from  its  busy  din, 
Far  from  its  praise  and  honor, 

Its  unbelief  and  sin. 

3  Oh,  keep  my  heart  at  leisure 
From  all  the  world  beside. 

In  close  communion,  ever 

Thus  with  thee  to  abide — 
So  all  thy  whispered  breathings 

Of  love  and  truth  to  hear ; 
And  hail  thee  with  rejoicing. 

When  thou  shalt  soon  appear. 

Mrs.  Rebekah  Hope  Taylor,  daughter  of 
Hon.  Samuel  Morley,  M.  P.,  was  the  wife  of 
Herbert  W.  Taylor,  and  belonged  to  the  reli- 
gious body  known  as  the  Plymouth  Brethren. 
In  the  Enlarged  London  Hymn  Book,  1873, 
there  are  to  be  found  four  of  her  poems,  the 
one  given  here  being  the  favorite.  Mrs.  Tay- 
lor died  November  8,  1877,  and  in  the  follow- 
ing year  her  Letters  were  published.  This 
hymn  is  useful  in  that  it  presents  one  passage 
of  Scripture  which  illustrates  one  phase  of 
our  Lord's  life ;  it  gives  voice  in  song  to 
Hebrews  13:11-13:  "For  the  bodies  of 
those  beasts,  whose  blood  is  brought  into 
the  sanctuary  by  the  high-priest  for  sin,  are 
burned  without  the  camp.  Wherefore  Jesus 
also,  that  he  might  sanctify  the  people  with 
his  own  blood,  suffered  without  the  gate. 
Let  us  go  forth  therefore  unto  him  without 
the  camp,  bearing  his  reproach." 

381  " Friend  0/ Sinners."  8s,  7s,  7s. 

One  there  is  above  all  others, 

Well  deserves  the  name  of  Friend ; 
His  is  love  beyond  a  brother's, 
Costly,  free,  and  knows  no  end  : 
They  who  once  his  kindness  prove 
Find  it  everlasting  love. 

2  Which  of  all  our  friends,  to  save  us, 
Could  or  would  have  shed  his  blood  ? 

But  our  Jesus  died  to  have  us 
Reconciled  in  him  to  God  : 
This  was  boundless  love  indeed ! 
Jesus  is  a  friend  in  need. 

3  When  he  lived  on  earth  abased, 
"Friend  of  sinners"  was  his  name; 

Now  above  all  glories  raised, 
He  rejoices  in  the  same ; 
Still  he  calls  them  brethren,  friends, 
And  to  all  their  wants  attends. 

4  Could  we  bear  from  one  another 
What  he  daily  bears  from  us? 

Yet  this  glorious  Friend  and  Brother 
Loves  us  though  we  treat  him  thus: 
Though  for  good  we  render  ill, 
He  accounts  us  brethren  still. 

5  Oh,  for  grace  our  hearts  to  soften  I 
Teach  us.  Lord,  at  length  to  love; 

We,  alas !  forget  too  often 
What  a  Friend  we  have  above : 

But  when  home  our  souls  are  brought, 
We  will  love  thee  as  we  ought. 


LIFE   AND   CHARACTER. 


^n 


Very  likely  this  would  be  considered  by 
many  as  the  most  widely  knov^-n  and  the  most 
tenderly  cherished  piece  of  Rev.  John  New- 
ton's composition.  It  can  be  found  in  the 
Olney  Hymns,  1779,  where  it  is  No.  53  of 
Book  I.  What  commends  these  stanzas  to 
Christian  hearts  is  the  prevailing  sentiment 
embodied  in  every  one  of  them  that  our  Lord, 
the  "  Friend  that  sticketh  closer  than  a  bro- 
ther," was  actuated  by  a  positive,  active,  seek- 
ing love  for  the  sinner,  before  that  sinner  had 
even  become  a  subject  of  grace.  We  must 
read  the  life  of  Jesus  Christ  as  the  mere  un- 
folding of  this  love.  There  is  no  explanation 
of  Bethany  tears  outside  of  it.  He  might 
have  taught  a  Samaritan  woman  profession- 
ally, like  any  other  rabbi  upon  the  road  ;  but 
he  never  would  have  "  sat  thus  "  on  the  well 
unless  he  had  loved  her  soul  and  longed  to 
save  it  by  the  truth.  Simon  the  Cyrenian 
would  have  said  he  was  uplifting  an  unknown 
malefactor's  cross,  as  he  unwillingly  came  in 
behind  Jesus  and  raised  the  timber  on  his 
shoulder.  But  what  he  was  doing  really  was 
this — he  was  succoring  eternal  Love  bearing 
a  burden  which  for  the  moment  proved  too 
much  for  its  physical  embodiment.  Peter  saw 
Love  walking  upon  the  water ;  John  the  Bap- 
tist pointed  out  Love  on  the  shore  of  the 
Jordan ;  Mary  Magdalene  spoke  to  Love  on 
the  excited  morning  of  the  resurrection ; 
Judas  kissed  Love  when  he  swung  the  lantern 
before  the  face  of  Jesus ;  Love  had  been 
kneeling  under  the  old  olives,  and  had  left 
drops  of  blood-sweat  on  the  grass.  A  whole 
biography  there  is,  which  cannot  be  read  at 
all  unless  read  as  an  unfolding  of  the  love  of 
God  in  Jesus  Christ  for  men. 

382  Healing  the  Stck.  8s,  7s,  7s. 

Thou  to  whom  the  sick  and  dying 

Ever  came,  nor  came  in  vain. 
Still  with  healing  word  replying 
To  the  weary  cry  of  pain ; 
Hear  us,  Jesus,  as  we  meet, 
Suppliants  at  thy  mercy-seat. 

2  Every  care  and  ever>-  sorrow. 
Be  it  great,  or  be  it  small ; 

Yesterday,  to-day,  to-morrow. 
When,  where'er,  it  may  befall; 
Lay  we  humbly  at  thy  feet. 
Suppliants  round  thy  mercy-seat. 

3  Still  the  weary,  sick,  and  dying 
Need  a  brother's,  sister's  care; 

On  thy  higher  help  relying, 
May  we  now  their  burden  share: 
Bringing  all  our  offerings  meet. 
Suppliants  to  thy  mercy-seat. 

4  May  each  child  of  thine  be  willing. 
Willing  both  in  hand  and  heart, 

Ever>-  law  of  love  fulfilling, 
Every  comfort  to  impart : 
Ever  bringing  offerings  meet, 
Suppliants  at  thy  mercy-seat. 


5  Then  shall  sickness,  sin,  and  sadness 

To  thy  healing  power  yield  ; 
Till  the  sick  and  sad  in  gladness, 
Rescued,  ransomed,  cleansed,  healed, 
Shall  the  saints  together  meet. 
Pardoned  at  thy  judgment  seat ! 

This  hymn  is  entitled,  "  On  Behalf  of  Hos- 
pitals ;"  and  it  has  to  be  admitted  that  the 
advertisement  of  it  is  rather  commonplace.  It 
was  written  by  Rev.  Godfrey  Thring  in  1870, 
at  the  request  of  Prebendary  Hutton  of  Lin- 
coln Cathedral,  and  was  first  published  in  his 
Supplement,  next  year.  It  is  a  useful  series 
of  good  stanzas,  without  much  poetic  fervor, 
or  artistic  construction,  or  dramatic  force; 
but  it  lays  hold  of  a  singer's  heart  because  of 
its  simple  acceptance  of  the  Master's  humility 
and  self-forgetfulness  in  work. 

It  is  not  rare,  the  spectacle  of  a  believer  la- 
boring sedulously  to  construct  a  sort  of  show, 
in  the  center  of  which  he  expects  to  appear. 
Highly  imaginative  temperaments  there  are, 
full  of  ingenious  invention.  Life  is  a  drama, 
and  they  occupy  themselves  in  fashioning 
poses  and  writing  parts  for  delivery.  They 
see  themselves — feeding  the  poor.  They  see 
themselves — going  on  a  foreign  mission.  They 
see  themselves — marching  at  the  head  of  an 
infant-class.  They  love  to  contrive  plots,  the 
up-shot  of  which  is  unusual.  They  get  up 
tableaux  of  Christian  zeal ;  the  band  plays, 
the  drapery  is  drawn — there  they  are  !  The 
sadness  of  this  is,  their  utmost  wisdom  fails. 
They  never  reach  the  desired  ripeness  in  the 
schemes.  They  betray  themselves  with  self- 
consciousness.  And  the  thing  which  is  most 
healthy  to  observe  is,  that  at  the  promising 
moment  (so  considered)  the  entire  scheme 
falls  into  foolishness,  simply  because  their 
own  piety,  supplemented  by  their  own  good 
sense,  withdraws  them  from  the  melodrama 
just  in  time  to  be  safe.  But  no  life,  thus 
running  on  in  dreamy  scenic  effects,  can  be  a 
thoroughly  useful,  or  even  a  happy  one. 
Christians  are  not  stage-heroes  and  heroines. 
Quaint  surprises  are  not  what  a  father  wants 
from  his  children ;  nor  will  visionary  children 
increase  either  in  love  or  likeness  to  their 
father  by  rehearsing  little  speeches  they  mean 
to  make  to  him,  accompanied  with  gestures. 

Oh,  grand —  commonplace — tender — plain 
— earnest — life  was  that  of  the  Master !  How 
unconscious,  how  majestic,  just  in  its  natural- 
ness of  labor  and  love !  He  that  puts  that 
Life  before  him  always  will  end  this  vacilla- 
tion, this  melancholy,  this  thought  of  unap- 
preciated merit,  this  far-off  look  into  impos- 
sible regions  of  imaginative  labor  and  sacri- 
fice ;  and  will  go  on  honest  errands  just  to 
save  the  soul  that  stands  next  to  him. 


178 


THE   LORD   JESUS   CHRIST. 


"Jesus  wept."  8s,  7s,  7s. 

Jesus  wept !  those  tears  are  over, 

But  his  heart  is  still  the  same  ; 
Kinsman,  Friend,  and  elder  Brother, 
Is  his  everlasting  name. 
Saviour,  who  can  love  like  thee, 
Gracious  One  of  Bethany  ? 

2  When  the  pangs  of  trial  seize  us, 
When  the  waves  of  sorrow  roll, 

I  will  lay  my  head  on  Jesus, 
Pillow  of  the  troubled  soul. 
Surely,  none  can  feel  like  thee, 
Weeping  One  of  Bethany  ! 

3  Jesus  wept !  and  still  in  glory 

He  can  mark  each  mourner's  tear; 
Living  to  retrace  the  story 
Of  the  hearts  he  solaced  here. 

Lord,  when  I  am  called  to  die, 

Let  me  think  of  Bethany. 

4  Jesus  wept !  that  tear  of  sorrow 
Is  a  legacy  of  love ; 

Yesterday,  to-day,  to-morrow, 
He  the  same  doth  ever  prove. 
Thou  art  all  in  all  to  me. 
Living  One  of  Bethany  ! 

Rev.  John  Ross  Macduff,  D.  D.,  was  bom 
at  Bonhard,  near  Perth,  in  Scotland,  May  23, 
1 81 8,  and  studied  at  the  University  of  Edin- 
burgh. In  1842  he  became  parish  minister 
of  Kettins,  Forfarshire,  where  he  remained 
until  1849,  when  he  took  charge  of  St.  Ma- 
does  in  Perthshire.  In  1855  he  was  settled 
over  a  church  in  Glasgow,  his  last  pastorate, 
as  he  retired  from  the  ministry  in  1871,  and 
went  to  live  at  Chislehurst,  Kent.  Dr.  Mac- 
duff has  written  about  forty  hymns,  some 
of  which  have  kept  a  place  in  popular  love. 
One  of  the  best  known  is  given  here ;  its  re- 
frain leads  us  back  to  the  story  in  the  elev- 
enth chapter  of  John.  Although  Bethany  has 
vanished  from  the  maps,  it  will  never  be  for- 
gotten by  Christians.  To  them  the  little  vil- 
lage over  the  hill,  a  couple  of  miles  from  Jeru- 
salem, will  always  recall  the  Saviour's  sympa- 
thy with  human  sorrow.  That  shows  how 
an  idea  can  last  longer  than  a  monument. 


4  Jesus,  may  thy  love  constrain  us. 
That  from  sin  we  may  refrain  us. 

In  thy  griefs  may  deeply  grieve: 
Thee  our  best  aft'ections  giving. 
To  thy  glop"  ever  living. 

May  we  in  thy  glory  live. 


384  "Near  the  Cross." 

Near  the  cross  was  Mary  weeping, 
There  her  mournful  station  keeping. 

Gazing  on  her  dying  Son : 
There  in  speechless  an^ish  groanitig, 
Yearning,  trembling,  sighing,  moaning, 

Through  her  soul  the  sword  had  gone  I 

2  But  we  have  no  need  to  borrow 
Motives  from  the  mother's  sorrow, 

At  our  Saviour's  cross  to  mourn  : 
'T  was  our  sins  brought  him  from  heaven, 
These  the  cruel  nails  had  driven : 

AH  his  griefs  for  us  were  borne. 

3  When  no  eye  its  pity  gave  us. 
When  there  was  no  arm  to  save  us. 

He  his  love  and  power  displayed  : 
By  his  stripes  he  wrought  our  healing, 
By  his  death,  our  life  revealing. 

He  for  us  the  ransom  paid. 


P.M. 


THE  OBERAMMERGAU  MARY. 

The  author  of  English  Hymns  tells  us  that 
the  ancient  Latin  poem  of  which  this  is  a 
translation  was  the  work  of  one  of  the  queer- 
est and  quaintest  of  the  ancient  singers.  His 
name  is  a  nickname ;  Jacoponns  means  "  Silly 
James."  He  is  more  dignifiedly  known  as 
Jacobus  de  Benedictis.  But  the  Dictionary 
of  Hytnnology  does  not  accept  such  a  con- 
clusion. It  bewilders  us  with  the  mention  of 
many  claimants  besides,  and  in  the  end  seems 
to  favor  Pope  Innocent  III.  as  having  a  su- 
preme place  in  the  composition.  It  came 
into  popular  use  in  the  fourteenth  century  by 
the  Flagellants'  singing  of  it  on  their  way 
from  town  to  town ;  but  it  was  composed  a 
hundred  years  before  that. 

The  music  of  Rossini  has  rendered  the 
Stabat  Mater  Dolorosa  famous  in  modem 
times.  But  no  Protestant  could  ever  sing 
such  a  thing ;  it  is  simply  a  gush  of  worship 


SUFFERINGS   AND   DEATH. 


179 


of  the  Virgin  Mary,  a  passionate  prayer  to  a 
dead  woman  to  be  one's  intercessor.  It  re- 
quired the  exquisite  taste  and  perfect  feeling 
of  Dr.  James  Waddell  Alexander  to  catch 
and  preserve  the  matchless  meaning  of  the 
human  sentiment  and  yet  avoid  the  mariol- 
atry.  He  seems  with  the  delicacy  of  genius 
to  have  instinctively  separated  the  pathos 
from  the  passion,  and  so  brought  us  a  true 
hymn  which  the  Church  may  easily  receive, 
giving  all  the  loving  tenderness  of  pity  to  the 
loving  mother,  and  all  the  supreme  gratitude 
of  praise  to  the  divine  Jesus — where  it  be- 
longed. The  piece  may  be  found  in  his 
Breaking  Crucible  and  Other  Translations, 
1 86 1.  The  portrait  added  above  is  taken 
from  a  photograph  of  rare  excellence,  and 
well  represents  the  personified  Virgin  of  the 
Passion  Play. 

335  Getksemane.  L.  M. 

'T  IS  midnight ;  and  on  Olive's  brow 
The  star  is  dimmed  that  lately  shone. 

'T  is  midnight ;  in  the  garden,  now 
The  suffering  Saviour  prays  alone. 

2  'T  is  midnight ;  and  from  all  removed, 
The  Saviour  wrestles  lone  with  fears ; 

Ev'n  that  disciple  whom  he  loved 
Heeds  not  his  Master's  grief  and  tears. 

3  'T  is  midnight ;  and  for  others'  guilt 
The  Man  of  Sorrows  weeps  in  blood ; 

Yet  he  that  hath  in  anguish  knelt 
Is  not  forsaken  by  his  God. 

4  'T  is  midnight ;  and  from  ether-plains 
Is  borne  the  song  that  angels  know ; 

Unheard  by  mortals  are  the  strains 
That  sweetly  soothe  the  Saviour's  woe. 

This  author.  Rev.  William  Bingham  Tap- 
pan,  was  born  October  29,  1794,  at  Beverly, 
Mass.  He  became  in  1 805  an  apprentice  in 
Boston  ;  he  removed  to  Philadelphia  in  181 5, 
where,  after  a  short  time  spent  in  teaching  at 
Somerville,  N.  J.,  he  entered  the  service  of 
the  American  Sunday  School  Union,  1826. 
As  the  representative  of  this  society  for  the 
four  succeeding  years  he  resided  in  Cincin- 
nati, Ohio,  returning  to  Boston  in  1837. 
Though  still  remaining  in  the  service  of  the 
Union  even  down  to  the  date  of  his  death,  he 
began  preaching  in  1841  ;  at  the  outset  he 
acted  as  an  evangelist,  but  soon  connected 
himself  with  the  Congregational  body.  He 
died  at  West  Needham,  Mass.,  June  18, 
1849. 

Mr.  Tappan  early  showed  a  marked  fond- 
ness for  books  and  study,  although  in  the 
beginning  of  his  career  he  had  few  advan- 
tages for  the  gratification  of  his  taste.  He 
was  not  a  man  of  powerful  genius,  but  the 
many  books  he  published  afford  sufficient 
proof  that  his  artistic  ability  as  a  writer  was 


one  of  his  strongest  characteristics.  Nem 
Etiglajid  and  Other  Poems  was  the  first  work 
he  issued  from  the  press ;  this  was  in  1 8 1 9, 
and  several  volumes  followed  this  in  turn. 
The  hymn  before  us  is  found  in  his  volume 
of  Poems,  1822;  it  has  four  stanzas  and  is 
entitled  "  Gethsemane." 

386 


L.  M. 


"  '  T is  finished r' 

"  'T  IS  finished  !" — so  the  Saviour  cried, 
And  meekly  bowed  his  head  and  died : 
"  'T  is  finished !" — yes,  the  race  is  run, 
The  battle  fought,  the  victory  won. 

2  'T  is  finished  ! — all  that  heaven  foretold 
By  prophets  in  the  days  of  old  ; 

And  truths  are  opened  to  our  view 
That  kings  and  prophets  never  knew. 

3  'T  is  finished  ! — Son  of  God,  thy  power 
Hath  triumphed  in  this  awful  hour; 
And  yet  our  eyes  with  sorrow  see 
That  life  to  us  was  death  to  thee. 

4  'T  is  finished  ! — let  the  joyful  sound 
Be  heard  through  all  the  nations  round  • 
'T  is  finished — let  the  triumph  rise, 
And  swell  the  chorus  of  the  skies. 


Dr.  Samuel  Stennett's  works,  entitled.  On 
Personal  Religion,  were  published  in  three 
volumes  in  1824.  These  included  a  memoir, 
and  with  them  at  the  end  were  given  thirty- 
four  of  his  hymns.  Five  others,  and  among 
them  this  one,  were  found  in  Nippon's  Selec- 
tion, 1787.  It  is  related  in  this  good  man's 
biography  that  during  his  last  sickness  he 
was  compelled  to  use  a  gargle  with  vinegar 
among  the  ingredients  of  it  for  a  relief  to  his 
throat.  Once  while  taking  this  he  quoted  the 
words  used  in  Psalm  69:21:  "And  in  my 
thirst  they  gave  me  vinegar  to  drink."  Then 
he  added :  "  When  I  reflect  upon  the  suffer- 
ings of  Christ  I  am  ready  to  ask,  W^hat  have 
I  been  thinking  of  all  my  life  ?  What  he  did 
and  suffered  are  now  my  only  support." 
The  connection  of  this  sentiment  with  the 
refrain  of  the  hymn  is  very  close,  for  the 
record  reads  thus :  "  When  Jesus  therefore 
had  received  the  vinegar,  he  said.  It  is  fin- 
ished." The  poetry,  however,  was  written 
long  before  this  conversation  occurred. 

The  one  word  in  the  Greek,  which  in  our 
English  version  we  take  three  words  to  ren- 
der, is  "  Tetelestai /"  It  is  a  single  verb  with- 
out so  much  as  a  nominative.  What  was  it 
that  was  finished  ?  For  one  thing,  certainly 
the  personal  suffering  of  Jesus  Christ  in  the 
crucifixion  was  finished.  He  was  dying  now. 
We  cannot  pretend  to  define  in  what  the  an- 
guish of  Christ  on  the  cross  consisted :  but 
whatever  it  was,  he  had  now  at  last  come  to 
the  end  of  it.  We  recollect  also  that  Jesus 
had  begun  to  show  a  measure  of  inexplicable 
dread  as  he  neared  the  time  of  his  death. 


i8o 


THE   LORD  JESUS  CHRIST. 


He  kept  talking  concerning  a  mysterious 
"hour,"  and  seemed  filled  with  solicitude 
about  what  it  was  to  discharge  on  him. 
"  Father,  save  me  from  this  hour,"  was  his 
petition.  In  this  explosive  utterance  on  the 
cross  he  has  touched  the  supreme  degree  of 
his  satisfaction.  The  fright  is  all  over ;  the 
forced  calmness  disappears  ;  and  this  cry  is  an 
outburst  of  self-congratulation  that  his  terri- 
ble cup  has  been  entirely  drained.  He  knows 
now  that  all  physical  pains  and  all  spiritual 
horrors  are  exhausted.  And  so  he  sends  out 
before  an  anxious  universe  this  "  loud  voice  " 
like  a  bulletin  from  a  field  of  battle.  He  is 
all  through  the  charge,  right,  safe,  at  rest. 

337  "The  wondrous  Cross."  L.  M. 

When  I  survey  the  wondrous  cross, 
On  which  the  Prince  of  glory-  died, 

My  richest  gain  I  count  but  loss, 
And  pour  contempt  on  all  my  pride. 

2  Forbid  it,  Lord !  that  I  should  boast. 
Save  in  the  death  of  Christ,  my  God  ; 

All  the  vain  things  that  charm  me  most, 
I  sacrifice  them  to  his  blood. 

3  See,  from  his  head,  his  hands,  his  feet. 
Sorrow  and  love  flow  mingled  down ; 

Did  e'er  such  love  and  sorrow  meet. 
Or  thorns  compose  so  rich  a  crown  ? 

4  His  dying  crimson,  like  a  robe, 
Spreads  o'er  his  body  on  the  tree ; 

Then  I  am  dead  to  all  the  globe. 
And  all  the  globe  is  dead  to  me. 

5  Were  the  whole  realm  of  nature  mine. 
That  were  a  present  far  too  small ; 

Love  so  amazing,  so  divine, 
Demands  my  soul,  my  life,  my  all. 

This  was  made  for  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  Hymns 
and  Spiritual  Songs,  where  it  appears  as  No. 
7  in  Book  III. ;  he  gives  to  it  as  usual  a  title 
and  text :  "  Crucifixion  to  the  world  by  the 
cross  of  Christ :  Gal.  6:14."  A  few  years 
ago  one  of  the  religious  magazines  in  London 
invited  its  readers  to  vote  upon  the  hymns  in 
use  among  the  churches  by  sending  in  lists 
containing  the  best  hundred  of  them  all.  A 
prize  was  offered  for  that  one  which  should 
most  nearly  represent  the  general  verdict. 
Almost  four  thousand  papers  were  received  ; 
fifty-five  different  authors  were  included  in 
the  approval ;  Toplady,  with  his  incomparable 
"  Rock  of  Ages,"  stood  confessedly  the  first. 
But  Charles  Wesley,  with  seven  hymns,  and 
Isaac  Watts,  with  seven  also,  followed  next. 
Every  one  said  Wesley's  "  Jesus,  lover  of  my 
soul "  was  his  best ;  and  every  one  said  Watts' 
best  was  "  W^hen  I  survey  the  wondrous 
cross." 

388 


"Por  me. 


L.  M. 


Jesus,  whom  angel  hosts  adore, 
Became  a  man  of  griefs  for  me ; 

In  love,  though  rich,  becoming  poor, 
That  I  through  him  enriched  might  be. 


2  Though  Lord  of  all,  above,  below, 
He  went  to  Olivet  for  me ; 

There  drank  my  cup  of  wrath  and  woe. 
When  bleeding  in  Gethsemane. 

3  The  ever-blessed  Son  of  God 
Went  up  to  Calvary  for  me ; 

There  paid  my  debt,  there  bore  my  load, 
In  his  own  body  on  the  tree. 

4  Jesus,  whose  dwelling  is  the  skies. 
Went  down  into  the  grave  for  me ; 

There  overcame  my  enemies, 
There  won  the  glorious  victory-. 

5  'T  is  finished  all :  the  vail  is  rent. 
The  welcome  sure,  the  access  free : — 

Now  then,  we  leave  our  banishment, 
O  Father,  to  return  to  thee ! 

This  is  readily  recognized  as  one  of  Dr. 
Horatius  Bonar's  poems.  We  have  taken  it 
from  the  first  series  of  his  Hymns  of  Faith 
and  Hope,  1857.  It  has  grown  familiar  and 
beloved  in  all  the  churches.  It  is  a  celebra- 
tion of  the  simple  substitution  of  Christ  for 
the  sinner  in  the  plan  of  salvation :  it  shows 
what  poetry  in  singing  can  do  with  strict 
truth.  In  these  days  there  is  much  said 
about  reforming  Christianity,  or  possibly  of 
putting  it  aside  altogether,  and  replacing  it 
with  what  is  called  "  The  Religion  of  Human- 
ity." The  suggestions  are  not  novel.  The 
religion  of  Christ  had  scarcely  made  its  way 
in  the  world  before  men  were  ready  with  im- 
provements of  its  methods  and  substitutions 
for  its  doctrines.  But  Christianity  still  lives, 
and  few,  save  students  of  ecclesiastical  his- 
tory, can  recall  the  scores  of  its  imitations. 

The  reformers  of  Christianity  might  find  a 
significant  answer  to  their  suggestions  in  one 
of  Talleyrand's  retorts,  which  was  one  of  the 
wisest  he  ever  uttered.  The  theophilanthropist 
Larevell^re  Lepeaux  once  confided  to  Talley- 
rand his  chagrin.  He  had  labored  to  bring 
into  vogue  a  sort  of  improved  Christianity, 
which  should  be  both  a  benevolent  and  a 
rational  religion.  With  expressions  of  morti- 
fication, he  admitted  that  he  had  failed,  for 
the  skeptical  age  would  have  nothing  to  do 
with  his  improved  religion.  "  What,  my 
friend,  shall  I  do?"  he  mournfully  asked. 
The  wily  ex-bishop  and  diplomat  politely 
condoled  with  the  disappointed  reformer.  He 
hardly  knew,  he  said,  what  to  advise  in  a 
matter  so  difficult  as  the  improvement  of 
Christianity.  "  Still,"  said  he,  after  a  mo- 
ment's pause,  and  with  a  smile,  "  there  is  one 
plan  you  might  try."  His  friend's  attitude 
and  look  showed  how  eager  he  was  to  be  ad- 
vised. But  what  would  the  advice  be  ?  There 
was  a  somewhat  prolonged  silence  before 
Talleyrand  answered.  "  I  recommend  to 
you,"  he  said,  "  to  be  crucified  for  mankind, 
and  to  rise  again  on  the  third  day !"     It  was 


SUFFERINGS  AND  DEATH. 


I8l 


a  lightning  flash,  and  the  reformer  stood,  at 
least  for  tne  moment,  awed  and  reverent  be- 
fore the  stupendous  fact  suggested  by  the 
great  diplomat. 

389  Christ  Dying  to  Save  us.  C.  M.  D. 

There  is  a  green  hill  far  away, 

Without  a  city  wall, 
Where  the  dear  Lord  was  crucified 

Who  died  to  save  us  all. 
We  may  not  know,  we  cannot  tell. 

What  pains  he  had  to  bear; 
But  we  believe  it  was  for  us 

He  hung  and  suffered  there. 

2  He  died  that  we  might  be  forgiven, 
He  died  to  make  us  good, 

That  we  might  go  at  last  to  heaven, 

Saved  by  his  precious  blood. 
There  was  no  other  good  enough 

To  pay  the  price  of  sin  ; 
He  only  could  unlock  the  gate 

Of  heaven,  and  let  us  in. 

3  Oh,  dearly,  dearly  has  he  loved. 
And  we  must  love  him  too, 

And  trust  in  his  redeeming  blood, 

And  try  his  works  to  do. 
For  there 's  a  green  hill  far  away, 

Without  a  city  wall, 
Where  the  dear  Lord  was  crucified 

Who  died  to  save  us  all. 

This  was  first  published  by  Mrs.  Cecil 
Frances  Alexander  in  her  Hymns  for  Little 
Children,  1848.  Like  most  other  things  done 
for  God's  youngest  sons  and  daughters,  it  is 
very  popular  with  the  oldest.  It  is  a  pathetic 
picture  of  Jesus  in  his  suffering  on  Calvary ; 
and  the  tenderness  with  which  the  lesson  of 
fidelity  is  pressed  constitutes  the  indescriba- 
ble force  and  charm  of  the  hymn.  The  site 
of  this  historic  spot  is  now  identified  by 
scholars  as  being  on  the  crown  of  the  knoll 
just  north  of  Jerusalem,  near  the  Damascus 
Gate :  outside  of  the  city  wall,  but  close  by 
the  old  town  in  which  so  much  history  and 
heart  and  hope  are  centered  for  the  children 
of  God. 


390 


"It  is  finished  !" 


8s,  7s,  4s. 


Hark  !  the  voice  of  love  and  mercy 

Sounds  aloud  from  Calvary ; 
See! — it  rends  the  rocks  asunder. 

Shakes  the  earth,  and  vails  the  sky : 
"  It  is  finished  !" — 

Hear  the  dying  Saviour  cry. 

2  Now  redemption  is  completed. 
Sin  atoned,  the  curse  removed, 

Satan,  death,  and  hell  defeated, 
At  his  rising  fully  proved. 

All  is  finished  ! 
Here  our  hopes  do  rest  unmoved. 

3  Finished  all  the  types  and  shadows 
Of  the  ceremonial  law ; 

Finished  all  that  God  had  promised, 
Death  and  hell  no  more  shall  awe. 

"  It  is  finished!" 
Saints,  from  hence  your  comfort  draw. 


f  Tune  your  harps  anew,  ye  seraphs ! 

Join  to  sing  the  pleasing  theme : 
All  in  earth  and  heaven  uniting, 

Join  to  praise  Immanuel's  name : 
Hallelujah  !— 

Glory  to  the  bleeding  Lamb  ! 

Much  discussion  has  wasted  much  time  in 
years  past  over  the  question  whether  Rev. 
Jonathan  Evans  wrote  this  hymn ;  but  settle- 
ment now  appears  to  have  been  reached.  It 
is  credited  to  him  by  the  latest  authorities  on 
both  sides  of  the  ocean,  as  having  appeared 
in  Burder's  Collection  of  Hymns,  1784.  The 
sentiment  it  suggests  is  pathetic  and  noble. 
Jesus  cried  out,  "  It  is  finished !"  He  thus 
proclaimed  before  the  universe  that  his  words 
in  the  great  intercessory  prayer  had  been  ab- 
solutely true  :  "  I  have  finished  the  work  which 
thou  gavest  me  to  do."  He  had  met  man's 
desperate  need  as  a  transgressor.  He  had 
satisfied  the  law's  demand  in  God's  govern- 
ment. "  It  is  finished  !"  means  that,  in  the 
death  of  this  Christ  of  God,  the  death  of  all 
sinful  humanity,  with  the  resurrection  of  all 
redeemed  souls,  was  completed  absolutely 
and  for  ever.  Jesus  Christ  had  answered 
every  Scriptural  type  with  an  antitype.  He 
was  the  Shepherd,  and  the  Fellow,  against 
whom  the  sword  was  lifted.  He  was  the 
true  Brazen  Serpent,  exhibited  in  the  wilder- 
ness of  Sinai.  He  was  the  Wonderful  Coun- 
selor, the  Everlasting  Father,  the  Prince  of 
Peace.  He  was  the  real  Isaac  bound  on  the 
pile  for  sacrifice.  He  was  the  Branch,  the 
Plant  of  renown,  the  Star,  the  Rock,  the 
Scape-goat ;  and  he  was  the  Lamb  and  the 
Turtle-dove  for  the  sacrifices  of  the  poor. 
When  he  made  this  exclamation  he  had  ful- 
filled every  ancient  prophecy  concerning  him- 
self. He  "  had  bruised  the  head  of  the  ser- 
pent." He  had  "  cut  Rahab  and  wounded 
the  dragon."  He  was  in  person  the  Messiah, 
who  was  cut  off  "  in  the  midst  of  a  week," 
and  that  not  for  himself.  He  had  been  born 
at  Bethlehem,  had  come  out  of  Nazareth,  had 
been  crucified  at  Jerusalem.  He  was  the 
prophet  whose  day  Abraham  had  seen  afar 
off  and  been  glad.  Thus  he  had  exhaustive- 
ly discharged  that  entire  former  dispensation 
in  a  new  one. 


)\  "A  ll-atoning  sacrifice. ' ' 

Oh,  perfect  life  of  love ! 

All,  all  is  finished  now — 
All  that  he  left  his  throne  above 

To  do  for  us  below. 

2  No  work  is  left  undone 
Of  all  the  Father  willed  ; 

His  toil,  his  sorrows,  one  by  one, 
The  Scripture  have  fulfilled. 


S.  M. 


l82 


THE   LORD   JESUS   CHRIST. 


3  No  pain  that  we  can  share 
But  he  has  felt  its  snian  ; 

All  forms  of  human  grief  and  care 
Have  pierced  that  tender  heart. 

4  And  on  his  thorn-crowned  head, 
And  on  his  sinless  soul 

Our  sins  in  all  their  guilt  were  laid, 
That  he  might  make  us  whole. 

5  In  perfect  love  he  dies ; 
For  me  he  dies,  for  me; 

O  all-atoning  Sacrifice, 
I  cling  by  faith  to  thee ! 

We  find  this  hymn  accredited  to  Sir  Henry 
"Williams  Baker,  but  little  notice  seems  to 
have  been  taken  of  it  in  the  British  hymnals. 
It  fits  a  niche  in  real  serviceableness,  and  is 
of  itself  full  of  significance.  The  author  con- 
tributed it  to  the  revised  edition  of  Hymns 
Ancient  and  Modern,  1875.  When  Jesus 
Christ  died  he  cried  out,  "  It  is  finished !"  It 
was  the  boast  of  those  who  spoke  Greek,  that, 
such  were  the  capabilities  of  their  compact 
and  beautiful  tongue,  they  could  give  "  a  sea 
of  matter  in  a  drop  of  language."  Only  one 
word  did  our  Lord  use,  but  "  the  world  itself 
could  not  contain  "  all  its  significance.  The 
instant  his  final  breath  was  drawn,  the  vail  of 
the  temple  was  rended  from  the  top  to  the 
bottom  ;  the  sacred  secrets  of  that  ancient 
mystery  in  the  Holy  of  Holies  were  thrown 
open  to  the  world.  The  day  of  the  temple 
had  passed;  the  downfall  of  Jerusalem  was 
near.  So  we  see  that  in  the  utterance  of  this 
cry  on  the  cross  Jesus  Christ  announced  that 
his  human  biography  was  complete.  And 
now  this  would  have  to  be  perpetuated  in  a 
book.  Within  less  than  a  hundred  years 
there  would  not  be  on  the  earth  any  one  of 
the  people  who  ever  saw  him  or  heard  him 
speak.  He  must  fashion  his  entire  career — 
its  actions,  its  sayings,  it  purposes,  its  gifts, 
its  fervors,  its  prayers — all  into  one  such  en- 
tirety as  that  it  could  be  pictured  with  words 
which  should  live  for  ever.  The  book  was 
finished  when  Jesus  lifted  this  loud  cry. 
That  was  his  shout  of  exultation.  We  have 
in  literature  a  fine  chapter  which  details  the 
thoughts  and  emotions  of  the  historian  Gib- 
bon on  the  evening  of  his  completing  that 
great  work  which  bears  his  name.  But  how 
feeble  a  figure  is  this  by  which  even  to  at- 
tempt to  describe  the  joy  and  satisfaction 
with  which  this  Son  of  Man,  who  was  the 
Son  of  God,  wrote  his  final  line  in  the  volume 
that  contained  his  life.  So  perfect  is  this, 
that  infidels  and  fierce  unbelievers,  who  deny 
h'm  full  divinity,  are  still  constrained  to  ac- 
credit to  him  the  unquestioned  position  as 
the  Prz'mus  Homo—xhc  chief  Man  of  men, 
the  unchallenged  Head  of  his  race. 


392  The  two  Looks.  C.  M. 

I  SAW  One  hanging  on  a  tree, 

In  agony  and  blood  : 
Who  fixed  his  languia  eyes  on  me, 

As  near  the  cross  I  stood. 

Sure,  never,  till  my  latest  breath. 
Can  I  forget  that  look  : 
It  seemed  to  charge  me  will;  his  death, 
Though  not  a  word  he  spoke. 

3  Alas  !  I  knew  not  what  I  did, 
But  now  my  tears  are  vain  ; 

Where  shall  my  trembling  soul  be  hid. 
For  I  the  Lord  have  slain  ! 

4  A  second  look  he  gave,  that  said, 
"  I  freely  all  forgive: 

This  blood  is  for  thy  ransom  paid ; 
I  die  that  thou  may'st  live." 

5  Thus  while  his  death  my  sin  displays 
In  all  its  blackest  hue, 

Such  is  the  myster>-  of  grace. 
It  seals  my  pardon  too ! 

This  hymn,  which  used  to  be  printed  with 
another  stanza  as  the  first,  beginning  "  In  evil 
long  I  took  delight,"  is  the  more  interesting  to 
Christian  hearts  because  it  purports  to  be  the 
religious  experience  pictured  truly  which  the 
author,  Rev.  John  Newton,  wished  to  give  as 
his  testimony  to  the  saving  grace  of  Jesus. 
He  contributed  it  to  the  Olney  Hymns,  1 779. 
It  affords  a  very  forcible  suggestion  to  be 
made  to  any  penitent  sinner  seeking  salvation. 
It  places  the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith 
at  the  front  as  being  the  genuine  help  of  one's 
soul  rather  than  the  mystic  doctrine  of  regen- 
eration by  the  Holy  Ghost,  or  the  more  mys- 
terious doctrine  of  election  by  God  the  Father. 
This  penitent  pirate,  this  "  wretched  worm," 
as  he  often  called  himself,  seemed  to  see  the 
Saviour  on  the  cross,  in  the  very  act  and  ar- 
ticle of  crucifixion.  Jesus  was  looking  at  him ; 
the  "  languid  eyes,"  weak  with  pain,  and  dull 
with  death  so  close  at  hand,  were  "  fixed " 
upon  him.  Newton  felt  that  he  was  respon- 
sible for  that  awful  spectacle  at  which  the  uni- 
verse was  shuddering.  The  Christ  said  noth- 
ing— only  he  gave  one  long  look.  Then  the 
sinner  cried  out  in  deep  response  of  remorse 
and  shame  and  pity,  and  tried  to  hide  himself 
from  the  condemning  eyes,  so  pitiful,  so  re- 
proachful, so  tender.  While  he  watched,  how- 
ever, Jesus  looked  again.  There  was  explana- 
tion in  the  gaze,  there  was  love  in  it,  there 
was  help  in  it — that  is,  there  were  justification 
and  free  grace  in  it,  and  John  Newton's  soul 
was  saved.  That  which  showed  him  his  guilt 
and  helplessness  showed  him  also  his  pardon 
and  hope. 

393  '•  O  Christ  of  God  "  C.  M. 

O  Jesus,  sweet  the  tears  I  shed, 

While  at  thy  cross  I  kneel, 
Gaze  on  thy  wounded,  fainting  head, 

And  all  thy  sorrows  feel. 


SUFFERINGS  AND   DEATH. 


183 


2  My  heart  dissolves  to  see  thee  bleed, 
This  heart  so  hard  before ; 

I  hear  thee  for  the  guilty  plead, 
And  grief  o'erflows  the  more. 

3  I  know  this  cleansing  blood  of  thine 
Was  shed,  dear  Lord,  for  nie: 

For  me,  for  all — oh,  grace  divine  ! — 
Who  look  by  faith  on  thee. 

4  O  Christ  of  God,  O  spotless  Lamb, 
By  love  my  soul  is  drawn  ; 

Henceforth,  for  ever,  thine  I  am  ; 
Here  life  and  peace  are  boni. 

5  In  patient  hope,  the  cross  I  '11  bear, 
Thme  arm  shall  be  my  stay ; 

And  thou,  enthroned,  my  soul  shalt  spare 
On  thy  g^eat  judgment-day. 

It  was  the  contemplation  of  a  clause  in  a 
verse  (Galatians  2  :  20)  which  led  to  the  writ- 
ing of  this  peculiarly  tender  crucifixion  hymn 
by  Dr.  Ray  Palmer.  It  first  appeared  in  Jones' 
Songs  for  the  New  Life,  1 869.  It  found  its  way 
into  the  religious  periodicals,  with  only  his 
surname  attached  to  it ;  and  so  one  of  the 
collections  took  it  up  with  no  knowledge  of 
its  authorship.  Worse  than  that,  the  com- 
piler was  led  by  some  stem  necessities  of  the 
case  to  curtail  its  length  by  the  loss  of  averse, 
and  thought  he  could  make  freer  with  what  he 
supposed  was  a  waif.  The  instant  grief,  not 
indignation,  with  which  this  most  sensitive  of 
all  sweet  singers  in  Israel  bewailed  such  mu- 
tilation of  his  intellectual  offspring  was  equaled 
only  by  the  urbane  kindness  with  which  he 
accepted  the  penitent  explanation  from  one 
who  evidently  was  sorrier  than  he  was  him- 
self. It  was  on  that  occasion  that  this  open- 
hearted  Christian,  who  was  always  as  frank 
as  the  day  with  trusted  brethren,  admitted 
that  the  verses  of  this  hymn  were  more  than 
usually  dear  to  him  because  they  described  a 
real  experience  which  he  had  once  had — an 
outburst  of  actual  tears  in  view  of  Jesus  dying 
on  the  cross. 

394  "He  remembers  Calvary."  C.  M. 

How  condescending  and  how  kind 

Was  God's  eternal  Son  ! 
Our  misery  reached  his  heavenly  mind, 

And  pity  brought  him  down. 

2  He  sunk  beneath  our  heavy  woes. 
To  raise  us  to  his  throne ; 

There  's  ne'er  a  gift  his  hand  bestows. 
But  cost  his  heart  a  groan. 

3  This  was  comp)assion,  like  a  God, 
That  when  the  Saviour  knew 

The  price  of  pardon  was  his  blood, 
His  pity  ne'er  withdrew. 

4  Now,  though  he  reigns  exalted  high, 
His  love  is  still  as  great ; 

Well  he  remembers  Calvary, 
Nor  let  his  saints  forget. 

At  the  close  of  one  of  his  letters,  lately 
brought  to  light.  Dr.  Isaac  Watts,  to  whom 
have    been    by  some  attributed   sentiments 


almost  Socinian  in  doctrine,  referring  to  the 
common  belief  as  to  the  Trinity  of  the  God- 
head, says  :  "  All  the  explications  I  have  yet 
seen  do  still  leave  great  darkness  upon  it, 
which  I  expect  will  be  cleared  up  when 
Christ's  kingdom  breaks  forth  in  its  power ; 
for  I  believe  it  was  in  the  apostles'  days  a 
much  plainer  and  easier  doctrine  than  all  ages 
ever  since  have  made  it,  since  there  were  no 
controversies  about  it  in  their  time."  The 
present  hymn  is  taken  from  Book  III.  of  Dr. 
Isaac  Watts'  Hymns,  and  is  entitled  "  Christ's 
Dying  Love;  or.  Our  Pardon  Bought  at  a 
Dear  Price."  It  has  eight  stanzas,  and  was 
written  in  1707. 

395  "Grace  unknown."  CM. 

Alas  !  and  did  my  Saviour  bleed, 

And  did  my  Sovereign  die  ? 
Would  he  devote  that  sacred  head 

For  such  a  worm  as  I  ? 

2  Was  it  for  crimes  that  I  had  done 
He  groatied  upon  the  tree? 

Amazing  pity !  grace  unknown  ! 
And  love  heyond  degree ! 

3  Well  might  the  sun  in  darkness  hide. 
And  shut  his  glories  in. 

When  Christ,  the  great  Creator,  died 
For  man,  the  creature's  sin. 

4  Thus  might  I  hide  my  blushing  face 
While  his  dear  cross  appears ; 

Dissolve  my  heart  in  thankfulness, 
And  melt  my  eyes  to  tears. 

5  But  drops  of  grief  can  ne'er  repay 
The  debt  of  love  I  owe ; 

Here,  Lord,  I  give  myself  away, 
'T  is  all  that  I  can  do. 

It  is  likely  that  more  conversions  have  been 
credited,  in  the  wide  round  of  Christian  biog- 
raphy, to  this  hymn  of  Dr.  Isaac  Watts  than 
to  any  other  in  the  English  language.  It  is 
No.  9  of  Book  II,  in  his  Hymns  on  Divine 
Subjects,  where  it  bears  the  title,  "  Godly 
Sorrow  Arising  from  the  Sufferings  of  Christ." 
In  the  third  stanza  there  has  always  been  one 
line  which  the  Christians  on  both  sides  of  the 
ocean,  and  of  ever)'  denomination,  have  been 
reluctant  to  receive.  Dr.  Watts  wrote  it 
thus  :  "  When  God,  the  Mighty  Maker,  dy'd." 
Now,  when  we  remember  that  this  revered 
author  has  been  violently  accused  of  being 
so  Unitarian  in  sentiment  that  Scottish  Pres- 
byterians cannot  sing  his  versions  of  Psalms, 
even  at  Pan-Presbyterian  Councils,  it  is  re- 
freshing to  hear  him  assert  such  doctrinal  ex- 
travagance in  his  zeal  to  be  orthodox. 

But  still,  although  there  is  a  certain  meas- 
ure of  metaphysical  truth  in  the  statement, 
most  sensibilities  recoil  from  saying  baldly 
that  "  God  died."  Moreover,  the  Scriptures 
represent  Christ  as  the  Creator  of  the  world 
(John  1:3).     Hence  in  one  collection  the  line 


i84 


THE   LORD   JESUS   CHRIST. 


reads :  "  When  Christ,  the  Lord  of  glory, 
died."  And  another  :  "  When  Christ,  the 
great  Redeemer,  died."  And  another  : 
"  When  Christ,  the  Mighty  Maker,  died." 
And  one,  which  in  the  small  antithesis  be- 
tween "Creator"  and  "creature"  seemed 
really  quite  felicitous,  reads :  "  When  Christ, 
the  great  Creator,  died."  This  was  chosen 
by  the  compiler  of  Laudes  Domini  as  on  the 
whole  the  smoothest.  He  did  not  make  the 
change :  he  accepted  it. 


396  Suffered  for  sin.  C.  M. 

Oh,  if  my  soul  were  formed  for  woe, 

How  would  I  vent  my  sighs ! 
Repentance  should  like  rivers  flow 

From  both  my  streaming  eyes. 

2  'T  was  for  my  sins  my  dearest  Lord 
Hung  on  the  cursed  tree, 

And  groaned  away  a  dying  life 
For  thee,  my  soul !  for  thee. 

3  Oh,  how  I  hate  these  lusts  of  mine 
That  crucified  my  Lord  ; 

Those  sins  that  pierced  and  nailed  his  flesh 
Fast  to  the  fatal  wood ! 

4  Yes,  my  Redeemer — they  shall  die ; 
My  heart  has  so  decreed ; 

Nor  will  I  spare  the  ^ilty  things 
That  macie  my  Saviour  bleed. 

5  While  with  a  melting,  broken  heart, 
My  murdered  Lord  I  view, 

I  '11  raise  revenge  against  my  sins, 
And  slay  the  murderers  too. 

From  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  Hymns,  Book  II., 
No  io6.  It  is  given  there  with  five  stanzas, 
and  is  entitled,  "  Repentance  at  the  Cross." 
The  piece  is  remarkable  for  the  introduction 
into  its  sentiment  of  a  passionate  exaspera- 
tion of  feeling  and  an  implacable  determina- 
tion to  destroy  utterly  the  wickednesses — 
"the  guilty  things  that  made  the  Saviour 
bleed."  It  makes  us  think  of  the  commenda- 
tion which  the  apostle  bestowed  on  some 
of  his  converts  (11.  Corinthians  7:11):  here 
is  the  "  indignation,"  as  well  as  the  "  fear ;" 
the  "  vehement  desire,"  as  well  as  the  "  zeal ;" 
and  specially  the  "  revenge."  When  the 
regiment  of  Highlanders,  at  the  crisis  of  the 
Sepoy  Rebellion,  arrived  with  the  means  of 
rescue  too  late,  and  drew  up  from  the  well  at 
Cawnpore  the  mutilated  remains  of  a  young 
Englishwoman,  it  was  no  time  for  parley; 
the  leader  drew  his  sword  and  cut  off  one 
long  tress  from  the  locks  of  their  country-  399 
woman ;  this  he  divided  among  the  soldiers. 
Then  they  all  uncovered  their  heads  in  pitiful 
silence  and  swore  that  a  life  should  suffer  in 
retribution  for  every  filament  in  the  braid  of 
that  maiden's  hair. 


397  ''Upon  the  Cross." 

O  Jesus,  we  adore  thee 
Upon  the  cross,  our  King: 

We  bow  our  hearts  before  thee; 
Thy  gracious  Name  we  sing : 


7s,  6s.  D. 


That  Name  hath  brought  salvation, 

That  Name,  in  life  our  stay  ; 
Our  peace,  our  consolation 

When  life  shall  fade  away. 

2  Yet  doth  the  world  disdain  thee, 
Still  pressing  by  thy  cross  : 

Lord,  may  our  hearts  retain  thee; 

All  else  we  count  but  loss. 
The  grief  thy  soul  endured, 

Who  can  that  grief  declare? 
Thy  pains  have  thus  assured 

That  thou  thy  foes  wih  spare. 

3  Ah,  Lord,  our  sins  arraigned  thee, 
And  nailed  thee  to  the  tree: 

Our  pride,  O  Lord,  disdained  thee — 

Yet  deign  our  hope  to  be. 
O  glorious  King,  we  bless  thee, 

No  longer  pass  thee  by ; 
O  Jesus,  we  confess  thee 

Our  Lord  enthroned  on  high. 

This  excellent  hymn,  for  some  reason  or 
other,  was  suffered  to  go.  for  a  period  of 
years,  without  any  recognition  as  to  author- 
ship. In  one  instance  it  was  actually  ascribed 
to  Charles  Wesley.  It  was  written  by  Rev. 
Arthur  Tozer  Russell  in  1 851,  as  a  song  for 
Good  Friday.  It  fitly  voices  the  Passion 
Chorale  of  Johann  Sebastian  Bach. 


398  The  Lamb  of  God.  7s,  6s.  D. 

O  Lamb  of  God !  still  keep  me 

Near  to  thy  wounded  side ; 
'Tis  only  there  in  safety 

And  p«ace  I  can  abide ! 
What  foes  and  snares  surround  me. 

What  doubts  and  fears  within ! 
The  grace  that  sought  and  found  me, 

Alone  can  keep  me  clean. 

2  'T  is  only  in  thee  hiding 
I  know  my  life  secure — 

Only  in  thee  abiding. 

The  conflict  can  endure; 
Thine  arm  the  victor\-  gaineth 

O'er  every  hateful  foe; 
Thy  love  my  heart  sustaineth 

In  all  its  care  and  woe. 

3  Soon  shall  my  eyes  behold  thee 
With  rapture,  face  to  face; 

One  half  hath  not  been  told  me 

Of  all  thy  power  and  grace: 
Thy  beauty,  Lord,  and  glory, 

The  wonders  of  thy  love, 
Shall  be  the  endless  story 

Of  all  the  saints  above. 

This  hymn,  entitled  by  its  author,  "  Christ's 
Presence  Desired,"  was  written  by  Rev.  James 
George  Deck,  and  was  published  first  in 
Psalms  and  Hymns,  in  two  Parts,  1842. 


At  the  Cross. 


js,  6s.  D. 


O  SACRED  Head,  now  wounded, 

With  grief  and  shame  weighed  down, 
Now  scornfully  surrounded 

With  thorns,  thine  only  crown  ; 
O  sacred  Head,  what  glory, 

What  bliss,  till  now  was  thine ! 
Yet,  though  despised  and  gor>-, 

I  joy  to  call  thee  mine. 

2  What  thou,  my  Lord,  hast  suffered 

Was  all  for  sinners'  gain  : 
Mine,  mine  was  the  transgression, 

But  thine  the  deadly  pain ; 


SUFFERINGS   AND   DEATH. 


185 


LOj_here  I  fall,  mv  Saviour  ! 

ea  thy  p' 
Look  on  me  with  thy  favor, 


'T  is  I  deserved  thy  place; 
00k  on  me  with  thy  favor. 
Vouchsafe  to  me  thy  grace. 


3  What  language  shall  I  borrow, 
To  thank  thee,  dearest  Friend, 

For  thiSj  thy  dying  sorrow. 

Thy  pity  without  end  ? 
Lord,  make  me  thine  for  ever, 

Nor  let  me  faithless  prove: 
Oh  let  me  never,  never. 

Abuse  such  dying  love. 

4  Be  near  when  I  am  dying, 
Oh,  show  thy  cross  to  me  ! 

And  for  my  succor  flying. 
Come,  Lord,  and  set  me  free  ! 

These  eyes,  new  faith  receiving. 
From  Jesus  shall  not  move; 

For  he  who  dies  believing. 
Dies  safely — through  thy  love. 

Paul  Gerhardt  is  usually  credited  with  the 
authorship  of  this  hymn.  But  we  have  been 
told  lately  that  his  poem  was  after  all  only  a 
version  of  one  written  long  before  by  Bernard 
of  Clairvaux.  The  German  translation,  O 
Haupt  voll  Blut  iind  IVtmden,  brought  the 
ancient  lyric  within  reach  of  the  common 
people,  and  it  became  very  popular  at  once. 
Bernard  wrote  his  verses  five  hundred  years 
before  this;  he  died  in  11 53,  and  Gerhardt 
gave  his  to  the  world  in  1656.  The  Latin 
hymn  is  entitled  Ad  faciem  Christi  in  cruce 
pendentis  ;  and  the  first  line  of  the  five  stanzas, 
each  consisting  of  ten  lines,  reads  thus  :  Salve, 
caput  cruentatum.  Dr.  Alexander  composed 
his  translation  in  1829,  but  does  not  appear  to 
have  printed  it  until,  twenty  years  after,  he 
contributed  it  to  the  Deutsche  Kirchenfreund, 
then  under  the  care  of  Dr.  Philip  Schaff.  Since 
then  it  has  had  a  fixed  and  notable  place  in 
all  the  collections. 

Rev.  James  Waddell  Alexander,  D.  D.,  was 
born  at  Hopewell,  near  Gordonsville,  Louisa 
County,  Va.,  March  13,  1804.  He  died  at  the 
Red  Sweet  Springs,  Va.,  July  31,  1859.  He 
received  his  academical  training  at  Philadel- 
phia, was  graduated  at  Princeton  in  1820,  and 
studied  theology  in  Princeton  Seminary.  In 
1824  he  was  appointed  a  tutor,  and  during 
the  same  year  he  was  licensed  to  preach  by 
the  Presbytery  of  New  Brunswick,  N.J.  Dur- 
ing 1 82  5- 1 828  he  was  in  charge  of  a  church 
in  Charlotte  County,  Va.,  and  from  1828  to 
1830  was  pastor  of  the  first  Presbyterian 
church  in  Trenton,  N.  J.  His  health  failing, 
he  resigned  this  charge  and  became  editor  of 
The  Presbyterian,  in  Philadelphia. 

He  was  professor  of  rhetoric  and  belles- 
lettres  in  Princeton  College  from  1833  till 
1844,  when  he  assumed  charge  of  the  Duane 
Street  Church  in  New  York  city.  From  1844 
to  1 85 1  he  was  professor  of  ecclesiastical  his- 
tory and  church  government  in  Princeton 
Theological  Seminary,  and  in   1851   he  was 


REV.  JAMES  W.  ALEXANDER,  D.  D. 

called  to  the  pastorate  of  the  Fifth  Avenue 
Presbyterian  Church,  where  he  remained  un- 
til his  death. 

Among  his  published  works  are :  Consola- 
tion; Thoughts  on  Preaching  ;  Plain  Words 
to  a  Young  Communicant ;  a  series  of  essays 
entitled  The  American  Mechanic  and  Work- 
ingman  ;  Discourses  on  Christian  Faith  and 
Practice ;  Gift  to  the  Afflicted;  a  biogra- 
phy of  Dr.  Archibald  Alexander,  and  more 
than  thirty  volumes  for  the  American  Sunday 
School  Union.  He  was  also  a  frequent  con- 
tributor to  the  Princeton  Review  and  the  Bib- 
ilcal Repertory.  Forty  Years'  Familiar  Let- 
ters of  Jaynes  W.  Alexander  was  published 
by  the  surviving  correspondent,  Rev.  John 
Hall,  D.  D.,  of  Trenton,  N.  J. 

These  simple  facts  are  necessary  in  any 
ordinary  sketch  of  Dr.  Alexander's  career; 
but  they  seem  very  dry  and  unsatisfactory  as 
a  description  of  such  a  man's  life  in  the  gen- 
eration of  which  he  was  a  notable  part.  He 
was  always  prominent,  always  influential,  al- 
ways beloved.  The  people  of  his  charge  in 
his  various  pastorates  honored  and  revered 
him  with  an  affection  and  trust  which  will 
abide  as  long  as  Christian  confidence  endures. 
His  later  years,  especially  during  the  period 
when  his  health  was  failing,  took  on  an  ap- 
pearance of  gentleness  and  quiet,  full  of  pa- 
thetic interest.  Brilliant  in  intellect,  studious 
and  scholarly  in  habit  and  attainment,  he  com- 
manded respect  in  every  position  he  was  sum- 
moned to  fill.  The  vast  and  powerful  congre- 
gation in  New  York,  of  which  he  was  so  long 
the  useful  pastor,  has  hardly  yet  ceased  to  be 


i86 


THE   LORD   JESUS   CHRIST. 


called  by  his  name.  It  is  now  more  powerful 
than  ever  and  more  prosperous ;  but  for  some 
decades  of  remembered  history  those  were  its 
strongest  men  who  were  taught  and  trained 
under  his  ministry. 

400  '  All- Forgiving  !"  7s,  6s.  D. 

Life  of  the  world  !  I  hail  thee ; 
Hail,  Jesus,  Saviour  dear! 

1  to  thy  cross  could  yield  me. 

Might  I  to  thee  be  near. 
Thyself,  in  all  thy  fullness. 

My  Lord,  to  me  impart : 
To  thee  I  come  as  with  me, 

Yea,  find  thee  in  my  heart. 

2  Look  on  me,  All-Forgiving ! 
Low  at  thy  feet  I  bow. 

Oh,  all-divine  thou  seemest. 

As  I  behold  thee  now  ! 
I  clasp  with  tender  passion 

Thy  feet,  so  pierced  for  us. 
The  cruel  wounds  deep  graven, 

O'erwhelmed  to  see  thee  thus ! 

3  While  here  with  thee  I  linger, 
Take  me,  dear  Saviour  mine! 

Oh,  draw  me  to  thee  closer, 

And  make  me  wholly  thine; 
Say,  "  Be  thou  saved,  O  sinner!' 

And  gladly  at  thy  call. 
On  thy  sure  Vi-ord  relying. 

To  thee  I  give  my  all. 

This  hymn  was  composed  by  St.  Bernard 
of  Clair\'aux ;  of  whom  it  has  well  been  said 
by  his  biographer :  "  They  canonized  him  in 
1 1 74 — but  it  is  better  to  have  written  a  song 
for  all  saints  than  to  be  found  in  any  brevia- 
ry." He  left  behind  him  at  his  death  a  long 
poem  in  the  Latin  language,  "  Salve  Mundi 
salutare ;"  to  this  he  gave  the  title  :  "A  rhyth- 
mical prayer  to  any  one  (whatever  one  you 
please)  of  the  members  of  Christ,  suffering 
and  hanging  on  the  cross."  Parts  of  this  in 
order  were  addressed  to  his  feet,  his  knees, 
his  hands,  his  side,  his  breast,  his  heart,  his 
face.  Dr.  Ray  Palmer  published  in  the 
Christian  Union,  K^rA  13, 1881,  a  translation 
of  that  portion  addressed  to  Christ's  feet ;  and 
three  stanzas  of  this  have  been  chosen  for  the 
hymn  before  us. 


40 1  The  bleeding  Lamb. 

Jesus,  Lamb  of  God,  for  me 

Thou,  the  Lord  of  life,  didst  die; 

Whither— whither,  but  to  thee, 
Can  a  trembling  sinner  fly  ! 

Death's  dark  waters  o'er  me  roll, 

Save,  oh,  save  my  sinking  soul. 

2  Never  bowed  a  martyr's  head 
Weighed  with  equal  sorrow  down ; 

Never  blood  so  rich  was  shed, 

Never  king  wore  such  a  crown ; 
To  thy  cross  and  sacrifice 
Faith  now  lifts  her  tearful  eyes. 

3  All  my  soul,  by  love  subdued, 
Melts  in  deep  contrition  there; 

By  thy  mighty  grace  renewed. 

New-born  hope  forbids  despair: 
Lord  !  thou  canst  my  guilt  forgive. 
Thou  hast  bid  me  look  and  live. 


78.  61. 


4  While  with  broken  heart  I  kneel 
Sinks  the  inward  storm  to  rest ; 

Life;— immortal  life — I  feel 
Kindled  in  my  throbbing  breast : 

Thine — for  ever  thine — I  am  ! 

Glory  to  thee,  bleeding  Lamb ! 

This  hymn  was  written  by  Rev.  Ray  Pal- 
mer, D.  D.,  in  1863,  and  first  published  in 
Songs  for  the  Satictttary,  1865.  Its  central 
thought  is  Jesus  as  a  sacrifice,  a  theme  which 
has  inspired  countless  attempts  of  art  to  make 
it  live  again  before  our  eyes.  Music,  poetry, 
sculpture,  and  painting,  all  have  striven  to 
reproduce  the  Bible  scene :  "  Then  came  Je- 
sus forth,  wearing  the  crown  of  thorns  and 
the  purple  robe.  And  Pilate  saith  unto  them. 
Behold  the  man !"  Dor6  has  painted  the 
whole  of  it ;  Guido  Reni  has  painted  the  head 
with  thorns  around  the  forehead.  Others 
have  made  similar  attempts  according  to  their 
fancy  or  their  ability.  It  is  a  spectacle  which 
attracts  and  discourages.  Beyond  them  all, 
however,  lies  the  fact,  which  each  Christian 
will  be  likely  to  fashion  before  his  own  imag- 
ination. Jesus  comes  forth  with  his  reed  and 
his  robe  :  Ecce  Homo  ! 

402  Across  Kidron.  7s.  6L 

Jesus,  while  he  dwelt  below, 

As  divine  historians  say. 
To  a  place  would  often  go. 

Near  to  Kidron's  brook  it  lay ; 
In  this  place  he  loved  to  be. 
And  't  was  named  Gethsemane. 

2  Came  at  length  the  dreadful  night — 
Vengeance,  with  its  iron  rod, 

Stood,  and  with  collected  might 

Bruised  the  harmless  Lamb  of  God: 
See,  my  soul,  thy  Saviour  see, 
Prostrate  in  Gethsemane. 

3  View  him  in  that  olive-press. 

Wrung  with  anguish,  whelmed  in  blood ; 
Hear  him  pray,  in  his  distress. 

With  strong  cries  and  tears  to  God  : 
Then  reflect  what  sin  must  be 
Gazing  on  Gethsemane. 

This  hymn  by  the  Rev.  Joseph  Hart  con- 
tained, in  its  original  form,  twenty-three  stan- 
zas of  six  lines  each,  and  was  published  in  his 
collection  in  1759.  It  was  entitled,  "Geth- 
semane," and  is  a  vivid  picture  of  the  mental 
and  physical  anguish  through  which  our  Lord 
passed  in  the  garden,  the  night  before  his 
crucifixion.  What  the  mind  can  do  in  its 
regnant  power  over  the  body  has  never  been 
fully  tested  for  record.  The  trouble  is,  the 
register  breaks  in  the  moment  of  measure- 
ment. We  can  hardly  understand  this  curi- 
ous effect  of  Jesus'  distress  upon  him.  The 
medical  books,  we  are  told,  are  not  without 
authentic  instances  of  strong  mental  emotions 
having  bent  and  broken  the  physical  frames 
of  men.  The  cases  are  rare,  but  by  no  means 
unknown ;    and  one  historic  illustration  has 


SUFFERINGS   AND    DEATH. 


187 


never  been  denied.  It  is  recorded  that 
Charles  the  Ninth,  of  France,  was,  upon  his 
death-bed,  so  overcome  by  pangs  of  remorse 
under  the  awful  recollection  of  the  Saint  Bar- 
tholomew massacre  he  had  ordered,  that  his 
blood  was  actually  driven  through  the  pores 
of  his  skin,  and  stained  the  linen  on  which  he 
lay.  So  that  we  need  not  regard  the  small 
cavils  of  those  who  declare  the  record  in- 
credible, even  if  taken  in  the  most  literal  way. 
Sweat  of  blood  is  not  frequent,  certainly ;  but 
it  cannot  be  called  impossible. 

403  Gethsemane.  7s.  61. 

Go  to  dark  Gethsemane, 
Ve  that  feel  the  tempter's  power; 

Your  Redeemer's  conflict  see, 
Watch  with  him  one  bitter  hour; 

Turn  not  from  his  griefs  away. 

Learn  of  Jesus  Christ  to  pray. 

2  Follow  to  the  judgment-hall ; 
View  the  Lord  of  life  arraigned : 

Oh,  the  wormwood  and  the  gall ! 

Oh,  the  pangs  his  soul  sustained! 
Shun  not  suffering,  shame,  or  loss; 
Learn  of  him  to  bear  the  cross. 

3  Calvar>-'s  mournful  mountain  climb; 
There,  adoring  at  his  feet, 

Mark  that  miracle  of  time, 

God's  own  sacrifice  complete: 
"It  is  finished  !"  hear  him  cry ; — 
Learn  of  Jesus  Christ  to  die. 

James  Montgomery  wrote  this  hymn  in 
1820;  in  1825  it  was  published  in  the  Chris- 
tian Psalmist.  By  the  time  he  issued  his 
Original  Hymns,  1853,  it  had  been  much  al- 
tered ;  it  appears  now  with  four  stanzas,  and 
has  the  title,  "  Christ  our  Example  in  Suffer- 
ing." The  three  lessons,  which  the  author 
seems  to  think  may  be  better  learned  from  an 
actual  visit  to  Gethsemane,  are  these :  how 
to  pray,  how  to  bear  the  cross,  how  to  die. 
Local  associations  are  very  powerful  in  sway- 
ing human  thought.  All  Christian  travelers 
have  commented  upon  the  impressive  force 
of  the  surroundings  when  they  were  within 
the  enclosure  upon  the  Mount  of  Olives,  now 
by  the  voice  of  old  tradition  set  apart  as  the 
site  of  the  "  oil-press "  to  which  Jesus  was 
wont  to  resort.  It  was  moonlight  at  the  full, 
on  the  Passover  night  when  Jesus  went  there 
last ;  "  dark  Gethsemane  "  was  lit  somewhat 
by  the  shining  overhead,  and  the  white  beams 
must  have  illumined  the  trees.  There  are 
eight  Venerable  olives  now  standing  inside 
the  wall ;  the  Eastern  moon  fills  them  with 
suggestion.  No  other  hour  in  all  one's  earth- 
ly history  will  equal  in  impressiveness  and  in- 
terest that  spent  in  the  Garden  of  Gethsem- 
ane. Even  the  rehearsals  of  this  part  of 
Christ's  life  ought  to  render  us  more  gentle 
and  more  spiritual.     We  enter  into  a  deeper 


union  with  a  personal  Christ.  What  must  it 
be,  then,  to  aid  the  imagination  on  the  spot 
itself  with  all  the  local  associations  of  the 
scene  ?  Years  may  pass  on  ;  but  the  tender- 
est  question  ever  put  to  any  heart  thereafter 
will  be,  "  Did  I  not  see  thee  with  him  in  the 
garden }" 

404  Hope  in  Death.  P.  M. 

So  rest,  our  Rest,  thou  ever  blest. 
Thy  grave  with  sinners  making  : 

By  thy  precious  death,  from  sin 
Our  ciead  souls  awaking. 

2  Heie  hast  thou  lain  after  much  pain, 
Life  of  our  life,  reposing: 

Round  thee  now  a  rock-hewn  grave, 
Rock  of  Ages,  closing. 

3  Breath  of  all  breath  !  we  know  from  death 
Thou  wilt  our  dust  awaken  : 

Wherefore  should  we  dread  the  grave, 
Or  our  faith  be  shaken? 

4  To  us  the  tomb' is  but  a  room 
Where  we  lie  down  on  roses  : 

He,  who  dying  conquered  death, 
Sweetly  there  reposes. 

5  The  body  dies — naught  else — and  lies 
In  dust  until  victorious 

From  the  grave  it  shall  arise 
Beautiful  and  glorious. 

6  Meantime  we  will,  O  Jesus,  still 
Deep  in  remembrance  lay  thee, 

Musing  on  thy  death  ;  in  death 
Be  with  us,  we  pray  thee. 

Salomo  Franck  was  born  at  Weimar  in 
Germany,  March  6,  1659,  and  died  in  his  na- 
tive town,  July  II,  1725.  He  wrote  seven 
Passion  Hymns,  of  which  this  is  one  begin- 
ning, ''So  ruhest  Du,  O  ineine  Ruh'."  The 
version  in  English  now  before  us  was  made 
by  Richard  Massie  in  1856.  It  is  interesting 
and  may  be  made  useful  in  meditations  con- 
cerning that  period  of  time,  so  mysterious 
and  pathetic,  while  Jesus  was  out  of  human 
knowledge  and  reach,  between  his  burial  and 
his  resurrection. 

405  Christ  in  the  Grave.  8s,  7s,  7s. 

All  is  o'er,  the  pain,  the  sorrow, 
Human  taunts  and  fiendish  spite  ; 

Death  shall  be  despoiled  to-morrow 
Of  the  prey  he  grasps  to-night : 

Yet  once  more,  to  seal  his  doom. 

Christ  must  sleep  within  the  tomb. 

2  Dark  and  still  the  cell  that  holds  him. 
While  in  brief  repose  he  lies ; 

Deep  the  slumber  that  enfolds  him, 
Vailed  awhile  from  mortal  eyes ; 
Slumber  such  as  needs  must  be 
After  hard-won  victory-. 

3  Fierce  and  deadly  was  the  anguish 
Which  on  yonder  cross  he  bore! 

How  did  soul  and  body  languish, 

Till  the  toil  of  death  was  o'er! 
But  that  toil,  so  fierce  and  dread. 
Bruised  and  crushed  the  serpent's  head ! 


1 88 


THE   LORD   JESUS   CHRIST. 


4  All  night  long  with  plaintive  voicing 

Chant  his  requiem  soft  and  low : 
Loftier  strains  of  loud  rejoicing 

From  to-morrow's  harps  shall  flow : 
"  Death  and  hell  at  length  are  slain  ! 
Christ  hath  triumphed !  Christ  doth  reign  !" 

Descended  from  a  family  of  Revolutionary 
heroes,  when  Rev.  John  Moultrie  undertook 
to  write  a  hymn,  what  more  apt  than  that  he 
should  describe  Christ's  victory  over  death  ? 
This  author  was  born  in  London,  England, 
December  31,  1799,  and  was  educated  at 
Trinity  College.  His  first  and  only  charge 
was  the  rectorship  of  Rugby,  which  he  ob- 
tained in  1828.  Here  he  lived  ^and  labored 
until  his  death,  which  occurred  December 
26,  1 874.  He  published  a  volume  of  poems 
in  1843,  entitled  My  Brother's  Grave  and 
other  Poems ;  but  the  piece  we  quote  did  not 
appear  until  1858.  It  cannot  be  called 
strictly  a  hymn ;  but  it  meets  a  want  which 
sometimes  occurs  wheYi  one  wishes  to  sing 
concerning  the  burial  of  our  Lord,  and  when 
night-services  are  held  in  connection  with 
Good  Friday. 

406  "  The  Debt  of  Love:'  H.  M. 
Come,  every  pious  heart, 

That  loves  the  Saviour's  name, 
Your  noblest  powers  exert 

To  celebrate  his  fame ; 
Tell  all  above,  and  all  below, 
The  debt  of  love  to  him  you  owe. 

2  He  left  his  starry  crown, 
And  laid  his  robes  aside. 

On  wings  of  love  came  down, 

And  wept,  and  bled,  and  died ; 
What  he  endured,  oh,  who  can  tell. 
To  save  our  souls  from  death  and  hell? 

3  From  the  dark  grave  he  rose. 
The  mansions  of  the  dead. 

And  thence  his  mighty  foes 

In  glorious  triumph  led ; 
Up  through  the  sky  the  Conqueror  rode, 
And  reigns  on  high,  the  Saviour  God. 

4  Jesus,  we  ne'er  can  pay 
The  debt  we  owe  thy  love ; 

Yet  tell  us  how  we  may 

Our  gratitude  approve ; 
Our  hearts,  our  all,  to  thee  we  give ; 
The  gift,  though  small,  thou  wilt  receive. 

Written  by  Rev.  Dr.  Samuel  Stennett,  and 
published  by  Dr.  Rippon  in  his  Selection, 
1787.  It  is  a  ringing  Easter  hymn,  and  has 
been  worthily  popular  among  Christians  of 
every  name. 

407  The  stone  rolled  away. 

On  wings  of  living  light, 

At  earliest  dawn  of  day. 
Came  down  the  angel  bright. 

And  rolled  the  stone  away. 
Your  voices  raise  w-ith  one  accord 
To  bless  and  praise  your  risen  Lord! 

2  The  keepers  watching  near, 
At  that  aread  sight  and  sound, 

Fell  down  with  sudden  fear 
Like  dead  men  to  the  ground. 
Your  voices  raise,  kc. 


H.  M. 


3  Then  rose  from  death's  dark  gloom, 
Unseen  by  mortal  eye. 

Triumphant  o'er  the  tomb 
The  Lord  of  earth  and  sky! 
Your  voices  raise,  &c. 

4  Oh,  let  your  hearts  be  strong! 
For  we,  like  him,  shall  rise. 

To  dwell  with  him  ere  long 

In  bliss  beyond  the  skies ! 

Your  voices  raise,  &c. 

Another  of  Bishop  William  Walsham 
How's  pieces,  published  in  Children's  Hymns, 
issued  1872,  by  the  Society  for  Promoting 
Christian  Knowledge,  London.  It  shows 
how  alert  the  composers  and  writers  of  the 
English  Church  have  been  of  late  years  to 
introduce  the  form  of  singing  so  peculiar  to 
the  American  genius  and  taste.  Almost 
everything  we  love  and  cherish  has  a  refrain 
in  it.  "  Red,  White,  and  Blue,"  "  Star- 
Spangled  Banner."  "  Auld  Lang  Syne," 
"  Sweet  Home,"  "  The  voice  of  free  grace," 
"  Rock  of  Ages,"  a  large  proportion  of  our 
favorites,  secular  and  religious,  are  refrain 
pieces.  Why  object  ?  That  is  the  American 
"  style." 

408  "Rejoice,  the  Lord  is  King  1"  H.  M. 

Rejoice!  the  Lord  is  King; 

Your  Lord  and  King  adore: 
Mortals,  give  thanks  and  sing, 

And  triumph  evermore ! 
Lift  up  your  hearts,  lift  up  your  voice; 
Rejoicel — again  I  say,  rejoice! 

2  Jesus,  the  Saviour,  reigns. 
The  God  of  truth  and  love; 

When  he  had  purged  our  stains. 
He  took  his  seat  above : 
Lift  up  your  hearts,  &c. 

3  His  kingdom  cannot  fail ; 

He  rules  o'er  earth  and  heaven ; 
The  keys  of  death  and  hell 
Are  to  our  Jesus  given  : 
Lift  up  your  hearts,  &c. 

This  piece  is  usually  credited  to  Rev. 
Charles  Wesley.  It  was  published  first  in 
John  Wesley's  Moral  and  Sacred  Poems, 
1744,  but  it  was  rewritten  afterward,  and 
took  its  place  in  the  Hymns  for  our  Lord's 
Resurrection,  1746.  The  Dictionary  of 
Hytnttology,  1892,  says  that  Wesley  wrote 
only  the  first  stanza  and  the  last  two  lines  of 
each  remaining  stanza,  and  that  John  Taylor 
wrote  the  rest  of  the  hymn. 

It  is  peculiar  in  its  use  of  the  refrain  an- 
nexed to  all  the  six  stanzas  of  the  original 
draft.  This  was  evidently  founded  upon 
Philippians  4:4.  The  whole  hymn  shows 
the  fervor  and  enthusiasm  of  that  remarkable 
movement  out  of  which  grew  the  great  de- 
nomination bearing  the  Wesleyan  name.  It 
must  have  been  a  prime  favorite  in  the  out- 
door meetings. 

Robert  Southey  gives  an  incident  of  rather 


RESURRECTION  AND   REIGN, 


189 


odd  interest.  It  seems  that  Charles  and 
John  Wesley  in  the  early  days  of  their  Chris- 
tian experience  were  in  the  habit  of  spending 
a  part  of  the  Sabbath  walking  in  the  fields 
and  singing  psalms.  One  Sunday  while  they 
were  in  the  fields,  and  just  about  to  begin  to 
sing,  a  sense  of  their  ludicrous  situation  came 
upon  Charles,  and  he  burst  into  loud  laughter. 
John  was  horror-struck  at  his  want  of  rever- 
ence, and  he  inquired  in  an  angry  tone, 
"  Charles,  are  you  distracted  ?"  No  sooner 
had  he  asked  the  question  than  he  began  to 
laugh  as  loud  as  Charles.  They  were  obliged 
to  return  home  without  singing  a  line.  It 
may  have  been  this  very  piece  they  were 
singing  at  the  time,  and  the  recurrence  of 
this  most  vigorous  refrain  may  have  rendered 
the  two  brothers  demonstrative  even  to  ges- 
ticulation. Then  suddenly  they  happened  to 
think  how  they  must  look  if  anybody  should 
chance  to  see  them. 

409  The  Lord  s  Day.  7s,  6s.  D. 

The  day  of  resurrection, 

Earth,  tell  it  out  abroad  : 
The  Passover  of  gladness. 

The  Passover  of  God. 
From  death  to  life  eternal. 

From  earth  unto  the  sky. 
Our  Christ  hath  brought  us  over. 

With  hymns  of  victory.  ' 

2  Our  hearts  be  pure  from  evil, 
That  we  may  see  aright 

The  Lord  in  rays  eternal 

Of  resurrection  light ; 
And,  listening  to  his  accents, 

May  hear,  so  calm  and  plam,_ 
His  own  "All  hail !"  and,  hearing, 

May  raise  the  victor-strain. 

3  Now  let  the  heavens  be  Joyful, 
And  earth  her  song  be^m. 

The  round  world  keep  high  triumph, 

And  all  that  is  therein  ; 
Let  all  things  seen  and  unseen 

Their  notes  of  gladness  blend, 
For  Christ  the  Lord  is  risen, 

Our  Joy  that  hath  no  end. 

Rev.  John  Mason  Neale,  D.  D.,  translated 
this  from  the  Greek,  and  published  it  as  an 
Easter  song  in  his  Hymns  of  the  Eastern 
Church,  1862.  He  had  an  especial  admira- 
tion for  this  part  of  the  ancient  canon  for  the 
Resurrection  morning  by  St.  John  Damascene, 
to  which  he  had  furnished  an  English  dress  ; 
he  has  given  a  vivid  description  of  the  way  in 
which  it  used  to  be  sung :  "As  midnight  ap- 
proached, the  archbishop,  with  his  priests, 
accompanied  by  the  king  and  queen,  left  the 
church,  and  stationed  themselves  on  the  plat- 
form, which  was  raised  considerably  from  the 
ground,  so  that  they  were  distinctly  seen  by 
the  people.  Every  one  now  remained  in 
breathless  expectation,  holding  an  unlight- 
ed  taper  in  readiness  when  the  glad  moment 
should  arrive,  while  the  priests  still  continued 


murmuring  their  melancholy  chant  in  a  low 
half  whisper.  Suddenly  a  single  report  of  a 
cannon  announced  that  twelve  o'clock  had 
struck  and  that  Easter  Day  had  begun ;  then 
the  old  archbishop,  elevating  the  cross,  ex- 
claimed in  a  loud,  exulting  tone :  '  Christos 
anesiz  /'  '  Christ  is  risen  !'  and  instantly  every 
single  individual  of  all  that  host  took  up  the 
cry,  and  the  vast  multitude  broke  through 
and  dispelled  for  ever  the  intense  and  mourn- 
ful silence  which  they  had  maintained  so  long, 
with  one  spontaneous  shout  of  indescribable 
joy  and  triumph,  '  Christ  is  risen !  Christ  is 
risen  !'  At  the  same  moment  the  oppressive 
darkness  was  succeeded  by  a  blaze  of  light 
from  thousands  of  tapers  which,  communi- 
cating to  one  from  another,  seemed  to  send 
streams  of  fire  in  all  directions,  rendering  the 
minutest  objects  distinctly  visible,  and  casting 
the  most  vivid  glow  on  the  expressive  faces, 
full  of  exultation,  of  the  rejoicing  crowd; 
bands  of  music  struck  up  their  gayest  strains ; 
the  roll  of  a  drum  through  the  town,  and 
further  on  the  pealing  of  the  cannon,  an- 
nounced far  and  near  these  '  glad  tidings  of 
g^eat  joy ;'  while  from  hill  and  plain,  from  the 
seashore  and  the  far  olive  g^ove,  rocket  after 
rocket,  ascending  to  the  clear  sky,  answered 
back  with  its  mute  eloquence  that  Christ  is 
risen  indeed,  and  told  of  other  tongues  that 
were  repeating  those  blessed  words,  and  other 
hearts  that  leaped  for  joy;  everywhere  men 
clasped  each  other's  hands,  and  congratulated 
one  another  and  embraced  with  countenances 
beaming  with  delight,  as  though  to  each  one 
separately  some  wonderful  happiness  had 
been  proclaimed ;  and  so,  in  truth,  it  was ; 
and  all  the  while,  rising  above  the  mingling 
of  many  sounds,  each  one  of  which  was  a 
sound  of  gladness,  the  aged  priests  were  dis- 
tinctly heard  chanting  forth  the  glorious  old 
hymn  of  victory,  intoned  loud  and  clear  to 
tell  the  world  how  '  Christ  is  risen  from  the 
dead,'  having  trampled  death  beneath  his  feet, 
and  henceforth  they  that  are  in  the  tombs 
have  everlasting  life." 

4 1 0  Our  Advocate.  7s,  6s.  D. 

O  Christ,  thou  hast  ascended 

Triumphantly  on  high, 
By  cheruD  guards  attended 

And  armies  of  the  sky ; 
There,  there  thou  standest  pleading 

The  virtue  of  thy  blood. 
For  sinners  interceding. 

Our  Advocate  with  God. 

2  Heaven's  gates  unfold  above  thee: 

But  canst  thou,  Lord,  forget 
The  little  band  who  love  thee 

And  gaze  from  Olivet  ? 
Nay,  on  thy  breast  engraven 

Thou  bearest  every  name, 
Our  Priest  in  earth  and  heaven 

Eternally  the  sajne. 


190 


THE  LORD  JESUS  CHRIST. 


3  Oh,  for  the  priceless  merit 

Of  thy  redeeming  cross, 
Vouchsafe  thy  sevenfold  Spirit, 

And  turn  to  gain  our  loss; 
Till  we  by  strong  endeavor 

In  heart  and  mind  ascend. 
And  dwell  with  thee  for  ever 

In  raptures  without  end.     , 

A  good  Ascension  Hymn  by  Bishop  Ed- 
ward Henry  Bickersteth.  It  was  so  designed 
by  the  author,  for  he  has  placed  it  in  his  From 
Year  to  Year,  1883,  in  connection  with  the 
Sunday  next  to  Ascension  Day.  The  piece 
has  one  more  double  stanza  than  the  three 
here  chosen,  and  it  is  declared  to  have  been 
based  upon  John  15  :  26.  It  is  interesting  to 
find  how  wide  is  the  use  which  might  be  made 
of  it.  It  fits  the  sentiment  of  I.  John  2  :  i,  for 
it  presents  our  Lord  as  having  ascended  in 
order  to  be  our  Advocate.  It  also  suggests  the 
touching  picture  of  the  disciples  as  "  gazing 
up  into  heaven,"  Acts  i  :  11.  And  it  offers 
the  assurance  that  Jesus  is  our  High  Priest, 
for  ever,  Exodus  28  :  29. 

411  He  lives  again.  7s. 

Christ,  the  Lord,  is  risen  to-day, 
Sons  of  men,  and  angels,  say  ; 
Raise  your  joys  and  triumphs  high  I 
Sing,  ye  heavens  !  and,  earth,  reply ! 

2  Love's  redeeming  work  is  done, 
Fought  the  fight,  the  battle  won ; 
Lo,  our  Sun's  eclipse  is  o'er ; 

Lo,  he  sets  in  blood  no  more. 

3  Vain  the  stone,  the  watch,  the  seal; 
Christ  hath  burst  the  gates  of  hell ; 
Death  in  vain  forbids  his  rise ; 
Christ  hath  opened  Paradise. 

4  Lives  again  our  glorious  King; 
"Where,  O  Death,  is  now  thy  sting?" 
Once  he  died  our  souls  to  save ; 
"Where  's  thy  victory,  boasting  Grave?" 

5  Soar  we  now  where  Christ  has  led, 
Following  our  exalted  Head  ; 
Made  like  him,  like  him  we  rise; 
Ours  the  cross,  the  grave,  the  skies  ! 

Rev.  Charles  Wesley  is  rightfully  credited 
with  the  authorship  of  this  good  resurrection 
hymn.  There  are  two  others  that  begin  with 
the  same  line.  But  this  one  is  included  in 
the  Hymns  and  Sacred  Poems,  1739. 

412  Joy  in  the  Lord. 
Joyful  be  the  hours  to-day ; 

Joyful  let  the  seasons  be; 
Let  us  sing,  for  well  we  may : 
Jesus!  we  will  sing  of  thee. 

2  Should  thy  people  silent  be. 
Then  the  very  stones  would  sing : 

What  a  debt  we  owe  to  thee, 
Thee  our  Saviour,  thee  our  King  I 

3  Joyful  are  we  now  to  own. 
Rapture  thrills  us  as  we  trace 

All  the  deeds  thy  love  hath  done, 
All  the  riches  of  thy  grace. 

4  'Tis  thy  grace  alone  can  save ; 
Every  blessing  comes  from  thee — 

All  we  have,  and  hope  to  have, 
All  we  are,  and  hope  to  be. 


78. 


5  Thine  the  Name  to  sinners  dear  ! 

Thine  the  Name  all  names  before ! 
Blessed  here  and  everywhere  ; 

Blessed  now  and  evermore  ! 

This  is  found  in  Rev.  Thomas  Kelly's 
Hymns  on  Various  Passages,  published  about 
1845.  He  has  meant  it  to  have  as  wide  an 
application  as  possible,  for  he  has  entitled  it 
"  Sunday  " — the  Lord's  Day  being  in  every 
sense  quite  as  good  a  memorial  of  Jesus' 
resurrection  as  Easter,  and  ensuring  a  much 
more  frequent  employment  of  the  hymn,  by 
reason  of  its  swifter  recurrence.  There  is  in 
each  verse  a  note  of  the  highest  triumph ; 
and  there  is  also  an  allusion  to  the  words  of 
our  divine  Master,  Luke  19:40:  "And  he 
answered  and  said  unto  them,  I  tell  you  that, 
if  these  should  hold  their  peace,  the  stones 
would  immediately  cry  out." 

4  1 3  The  Lord's  Day.  7s. 

Hail  the  day  that  sees  him  rise. 
Glorious,  to  his  native  skies  ! 
Christ,  awhile  to  mortals  given. 
Enters  now  the  gates  of  heaven. 

2  There  the  glorious  triumph  waits; 
Lift  your  heads,  eternal  gates  ! 
Christ  hath  vanquished  death  and  sin ; 
Take  the  King  of  glory  in. 

.  3  See,  the  heaven  its  Lord  receives  ! 

Yet  he  loves  the  earth  he  leaves ; 
Though  returning  to  his  throne. 
Still  he  calls  mankind  his  own. 

4  Still  for  us  he  intercedes. 
His  prevailing  death  he  pleads ; 
Near  himself  prepares  a  place, 
Great  Forerunner  of  our  race. 

5  What  though  parted  from  our  sight 
Far  above  yon  starry  height ; 
Thither  our  affections  rise, 
Following  him  beyond  the  skies. 

This  hymn  is  reckoned  as  one  of  the  great 
three  which  have  given  Rev.  Charles  Wesley 
his  fame  as  one  of  the  chief  religious  poets  of 
the  church.  The  other  two  are,  "  Jesus,  lover 
of  my  soul,"  and  "  Hark !  the  herald  angels 
sing."  And  yet  this  particular  piece  of  ten 
stanzas,  published  first  in  Hymns  and  Sacred 
Poems,  1739,  entitled,  "Hymn  for  Ascension 
Day,"  has  been  subjected  to  more  alterations 
than  would  be  imagined  by  those  at  the  pres- 
ent day  who  find  such  fault  with  the  com- 
pilers for  changing  an  author's  words. 
Whitefield  made  extensive  omissions  and  sub- 
stitutions in  1753  ;  Madan  added  to  the  num- 
ber in  1760;  Cotterill  went  forward  with  the 
work,  giving  us  almost  the  exact  form  now 
accepted.  These  five  stanzas  have  stood 
very  nearly  the  same  since  1820.  But  now 
and  then,  especially  in  the  English  collections, 
words  and  phrases  are  twisted  and  tortured 
according  to  the  taste  of  those  who  felt  called 


RESURRECTION   AND   REIGN. 


191 


to  criticise.  For  much  of  this  "  tinkering  " 
there  can  be  no  apology.  But  some  of  it  is 
sure  to  stand.  Does  anybody  want  to  go 
back,  in  the  second  Hne,  to  ''Ravished  from 
our  wishful  eyes,"  or  to  "  Pompous  to  his 
native  skies  "  .''  Would  a  good  taste  demand, 
in  the  last  line,  "  Re  -  ascends  his  native 
heaven  "}  Would  the  strictest  restorationists 
ask  to  have,  "  Prevalent  his  death  he  pleads," 
brought  back  into  the  fourth  stanza .''  Now 
that  the  churches  on  both  sides  of  the  ocean 
have  sung  and  learned  the  lines  as  they  stand, 
does  any  one  wish  to  take  the  responsibility 
of  reproducing  the  original  ?  If  he  should  do 
this,  most  of  God's  people  would  accuse  him 
of  having  "  tinkered  "  the  piece  to  which  they 
are  accustomed. 

414  "Hallelujah!"  7S,  5I. 

Christ  the  Lord  is  risen  again, 
Christ  hath  broken  every  chain ; 
Hark  !    angelic  voices  cry, 
Singing  evermore  on  high. 
Hallelujah  !    Praise  the  Lord ! 

2  He  who  bore  all  pain  and  loss, 
Comfortless,  upon  the  cross, 
Lives  in  glory  now  on  high. 
Pleads  for  us,  and  hears  our  crv : 

Hallelujah !    Praise  the  Lord  ! 

3  He  who  slumbered  in  the  grave 
Is  exalted  now  to  save ; 

Now  through  Christendom  it  rings 

That  the  Lamb  is  King  of  kings  : 

Hallelujah  !    Praise  the  \,oxa ! 

4  Now  he  bids  us  tell  abroad 
How  the  lost  may  be  restored. 
How  the  penitent  forgiven, 
How  we,  too,  may  enter  heaven  : 

Hallelujah !    Praise  the  Lord ! 

The  original  hymn  began,  "  Christus  ist 
erstanden"  and  was  written  by  Rev.  Michael 
Weisse,  a  prominent  representative  of  the 
"  Bohemian  Brethren  ;"  he  made  it  for  the 
first  hymn-book  of  that  sect,  which  is  now 
called  "  The  Moravians,"  and  it  was  published 
in  1 53 1.  The  author  was  born  at  Neisse,  in 
Silesia,  1480,  and  died  in  1534.  The  English 
translation  which  is  here  given  was  made  by 
Miss  Catharine  Winkworth  in  1858,  and  is  in 
the  Lyra  Germanica. 

415  The  Grave  0/  Jesus.  C.  P.  Mi 

Come,  see  the  place  where  Jesus  lay, 
And  hear  angelic  watchers  say, 

"  He  lives,  who  once  was  slain  : 
Why  seek  the  living  midst  the  dead? 
Remember  how  the  Saviour  said. 

That  he  would  rise  again." 

2  Oh,  joyful  sound  !   oh,  glorious  hour. 
When  by  his  own  almighty  power 

He  rose,  and  left  the  grave  ! 
Now  let  our  songs  his  triumph  tell. 
Who  burst  the  bands  of  death  and  hell, 

And  ever  lives  to  save. 


3  The  First-Begotten  of  the  dead. 
For  us  he  rose,  our  glorious  Head, 

Immortal  life  to  bring; 
What,  though  the  saints  like  him  shall  die? 
They  share  their  Leader's  victory. 

And  triumph  with  their  King. 

4  No  more  they  tremble  at  the  grave. 
For  Jesus  will  their  spirits  save, 

And  raise  their  slumbering  dust : 
O  risen  Lord  !    in  thee  we  live, 
To  thee  our  ransomed  souls  we  give, 

To  thee  our  bodies  trust. 

In  Hymns,  Ancient  and  Modern,  this  piece 
written  by  Rev.  Thomas  Kelly  finds  a  place. 
It  was  first  published  in  the  author's  Hymns 
on  Various  Passages,  1804,  there  commenc- 
ing, "  He  is  gone ;  see  where  his  body  lay." 
It  was  founded  upon  Matthew  28  :  6.  It  is 
of  an  unusual  meter,  and  hence  not  so  wide- 
ly known. 

4  1 6  "Captivity  captive."  C.  P.  M. 

Jesus,  who  died  a  world  to  save. 
Revives  and  rises  from  the  grave. 

By  his  almighty  power : 
From  sin,  and  death,  and  hell,  set  free. 
He  captive  leads  captivity. 

And  lives  to  die  no  more. 

2  Children  of  God  !  look  up  and  see 
Your  Saviour  clothed  in  majesty. 

Triumphant  o'er  the  tomb : 
Give  o'er  your  griefs,  cast  off  your  fears. 
In  heaven  your  mansions  he  prepares. 

And  soon  will  take  you  home. 

3  His  church  is  still  his  joy  and  crown  ; 
He  looks  with  love  and  pity  down 

On  her  he  did  redeem  : 
He  tastes  her  joys,  he  feels  her  woes. 
And  prays  that  she  may  spoil  her  foes, 

And  ever  reign  with  him. 

This  hymn,  written  by  the  Rev.  William 
Hammond,  breathes  all  the  deep  religious 
feeling  he  seems  to  have  attained  after  he 
joined  the  Moravian  Brethren.  It  is  found 
in  his  Psalms,  Hymns,  and  Spiritual  Songs, 
1745.     He  entitled  it  simply  "  Easter." 


417 


"IVith  him  in  glory" 


C.  P.  M. 


Children  of  light,  arise  and  shine! 
Your  birth,  your  hopes,  are  all  divine, 

Your  home  is  in  the  skies. 
Oh  !   then,  for  heavenly  glory  born. 
Look  down  on  all  with  holy  scorn 

That  earthly  spirits  prize. 

2  With  Christ,  with  glory  full  in  view. 
Oh!   what  is  all  the  world  to  you? 

What  is  it  all  but  loss  ? 
Come  on,  then,  cleave  no  more  to  earth. 
Nor  wrong  your  high  celestial  birth. 

Ye  pilgrims  of  the  cross. 

3  O  blessed  Lord,  we  yet  shall  reign. 
Redeemed  from  sorrow,  sin,  and  pain, 

And  walk  with  thee  in  white. 
We  suffer  now ;  but  oh !  at  last 
We  '11  bless  the  Lord  for  all  the  past. 

And  own  our  cross  was  light. 

Sir  Edward  Denny  wrote  this  stirring  call 
to  the  church  at  large,  publishing  it  in  his 
Selection  of  Hy7nns,  1839.     It  bears  the  title, 


192 


THE   LORD  JESUS   CHRIST. 


"Looking  unto  Jesus,"  John  14:1.  It  bids 
the  children  of  God  to  send  their  thoughts 
aloft,  as  if  in  full  view  of  their  Lord  rising  to 
his  place  at  the  Father's  side,  and  consider 
their  earthly  lot  in  the  light  of  his  wonderful 
exaltation.  They  are  to  remember  their  "  high 
celestial  birth,"  and  count  everything  less  than 
that  as  "  loss." 

418  "He  is  precious."  C.  P.  M. 

Oh,  could  I  speak  the  matchless  worth, 
Oh,  could  I  sound  the  glories  forth. 
Which  in  my  Saviour  shine ! 

1  'd  soar,  and  touch  the  heavenly  strings 
And  vie  with  Gabriel  while  he  sings 

In  notes  almost  divine. 

2  I  'd  sing  the  precious  blood  he  spilt, 
My  ransom  from  the  dreadful  guilt 

Of  sin  and  wrath  divine! 
I  'd  sing  his  glorious  righteousness, 
In  which  all-perfect  heavenly  dress 

My  soul  shall  ever  shine. 

3  I  'd  sing  the  characters  he  bears. 
And  all  the  forms  of  love  he  wears. 

Exalted  on  his  throne : 
In  loftiest  songs  of  sweetest  praise 
I  would  to  everlasting  days 

Make  all  his  glories  known. 

4  Well — the  delightful  day  will  come 
When  my  dear  Lord  will  bring  me  home. 

And  I  shall  see  his  face : 
Then  with  my  Saviour,  Brother,  Friend, 
A  blest  eternfty  I  '11  spend. 

Triumphant  in  his  grace. 


REV.  SAMtTEL  MEDLEY. 


The  accounts  we  have  of  the  author  of  this 
hymn  are  all  copied  from  an  article  in  The 
General  Baptist  Magazine  for  August,  1 799, 
a  month  after  his  death ;  certain  details,  how- 
ever, have  been  added,  taken  from  a  memoir 
published  by  his  son  in  1807.  From  this  it 
app)ears  that  Rev.  Samuel  Medley  was  born 
at  Cheshunt,  Hertfordshire,  England,  June  23, 
1738.     He  was  at  first  apprenticed  to  an  oil- 


man in  London,  but  not  liking  the  business, 
he  claimed  the  privilege  granted  in  that  time 
of  war  of  finishing  the  years  of  his  apprentice- 
ship in  the  navy.  So,  early  in  1755,  he  be- 
came a  midshipman  and  was  borne  out  into 
the  conflict  of  arms.  He  ser\-ed  in  several 
actions  on  the  sea,  and  was  wounded  severely 
in  the  fight  off  Cape  Lagos  in  1759.  When 
the  fleet  was  regularly  recalled,  he  was  car- 
ried back  to  the  house  of  his  grandfather  in 
London.  Mr.  Tonge  was  a  man  of  devout 
piety  and  great  zeal,  a  deacon  of  the  Baptist 
Church  in  Eagle  Street,  and  his  heart  was 
stirred  by  an  intense  longing  for  the  religious 
welfare  of  this  young  officer,  whose  life  had 
thus  far  been  wild  and  worldly.  The  old 
man's  prayers  were  answered  at  last,  and  in 
December,  1760,  Medley  united  with  the 
Church  with  every  evidence  of  a  change  in 
his  whole  life.  Shortly  after  this  he  aban- 
doned the  naval  service,  was  married  in  1762, 
and  began  to  prepare  for  the  ministry.  In 
August,  1766,  he  was  licensed  to  preach,  in 
1767  became  pastor  of  the  Baptist  Church  in 
Watford,  Hertfordshire. 

In  this  charge  he  remained  five  years,  then 
he  was  called  to  another  Baptist  church  in 
Liverpool,  which  he  served  down  to  the  day 
of  his  death,  July  17,  1799.  He  was  very 
popular  in  this  town  of  ships,  for  he  never 
forgot  that  he  had  been  a  sailor.  He  loved 
the  men  whose  business  was  on  the  great 
waters,  and  his  sermons  were  full  of  phrases 
which  they  knew,  the  vigor  of  which  they 
felt.  Clear  down  to  his  last  moments  he  was 
characteristically  quaint  and  professional. 
Among  the  words  which  he  spoke  on  his 
dying  bed  are  recorded :  "  I  am  now  a  poor 
shattered  bark  just  about  to  gain  the  blissful 
harbor,  and,  oh,  how  sweet  will  be  the  port 
after  the  storm  !  But  a  point  or  two  more, 
and  I  shall  be  at  my  heavenly  Father's 
house !" 

4  I  9  Head  of  the  Church.  C.  P.  M. 

O  BLESSED  Jesus,  Lamb  of  God, 
Who  hast  redeemed  us  with  thy  blood 

From  sin  and  death  and  shame; 
With  joy  and  praise  thy  people  see 
The  crown  of  glory  worn  by  thee. 

And  worthy  thee  proclaim. 

2  Head  of  the  church  :  thou  sittest  there. 
Thy  bride  shall  all  thy  glory  share — 

Thy  fullness,  Lord,  is  ours : 
Our  life  thou  art — thy  grace  sustains, 
Thy  strength  in  us  the  victor\-  gains 

O'er  sin  and  Satan's  powers. 

3  Soon  shall  the  day  of  glory  come. 
Thy  bride  shall  reach  the  Father's  home, 

And  all  thy  beauty  see  ; 
And,  oh,  what  joy  to  see  thee  shine. 
To  hear  thee  own  us.  Lord,  as  thine. 

And  ever  dwell  with  thee ! 


RESURRECTION   AND   REIGN. 


193 


The  spirit  of  Psalm  45  is  in  this  exhilarat- 
ing song.  It  was  composed  by  Rev.  James 
George  Deck,  and  was  published  in  the 
Psalms  and  Hymns  in  Two  Parts,  London, 
1842.  The  picture  of  the  Church,  a  King's 
Daughter,  the  Prince's  Bride,  standing  by  the 
side  of  her  Groom,  is  very  beautiful.  "  The 
king's  daughter  is  all  glorious  Avithin ;"  but 
the  Lamb  is  fairer  even-  than  his  wife;  for 
"  God,  thy  God,  hath  anointed  thee  with  the 
oil  of  gladness  above  thy  fellows." 

420  "Complete  in  him."  C.  P.  M. 

Come  join,  ye  saints,  with  heart  and  voice. 
Alone  in  Jesus  to  rejoice, 

And  worship  at  his  feet ; 
Come,  take  his  praises  on  your  tongues, 
And  raise  to  him  your  thankful  songs, 

"  In  him  ye  are  complete !" 

2  In  him,  who  all  our  praise  excels, 
The  fullness  of  the  Godhead  dwells. 

And  all  perfections  meet : 
The  head  of  all  celestial  powers, 
Divinely  theirs,  divinelv  ours — 

"  In  him  ye  are  complete!" 

3  Still  onward  urge  your  heavenly  way. 
Dependent  on  him  day  by  day. 

His  presence  still  entreat ; 
His  precious  name  for  ever  bless. 
Your  glory,  strength,  and  righteousness — 

"  In  him  ye  are  complete !" 

The  hymns  of  Rev.  Samuel  Medley  were 
habitually  printed  as  leaflets  in  the  first  in- 
stance, and  these  he  used  in  his  services  for 
distribution  as  early  as  1 786.  Seventy-seven 
of  them  were  gathered,  1789,  into  a  small 
volume,  and  a  larger  book  was  made  up,  1 794. 
In  1800,  after  his  death,  a  collection  was  is- 
sued containing  two  hundred  and  twenty 
hymns ;  this  bore  the  title  :  Hymns —  The 
Public  Worship  and  Private  Devotions  of 
True  Christians,  Assisted  in  some  Thoughts 
and  Verse ;  Priticipally  drawn  from  Select 
passages  of  the  Word  of  God.  In  this  is  to 
be  found  the  hymn  now  before  us ;  it  is  a  very 
fine  illustration  and  an  interesting  reiteration 
of  the  inspired  declaration  (Colossians  2:10): 
"  For  in  him  (Christ)  dwelleth  all  the  fullness 
of  the  Godhead  bodily :  and  ye  are  complete 
in  him,  which  is  the  head  of  all  principality 
and  power." 


421  "Thefirst-frmts."  8s 

Hallelujah  !  hallelujah ! 

Hearts  to  heaven  and  voices  raise; 
Sing  to  God  a  hymn  of  gladness, 

S'ng  to  God  a  hymn  of  praise; 
He,  who  on  the  cross  a  victim 

For  the  world's  salvation  bled, 
Jesus  Christ,  the  King  of  glorj-. 

Now  is  risen  from  the  dead. 

2  Christ  is  risen,  Christ  the  first-fruits 
Of  the  holy  harvest-field, 

Which  will  all  its  full  abundance 
At  his  second  coming  yield. 


When  the  golden  ears  of  harvest 
Will  their  heads  before  him  wave, 

Ripened  by  his  glorious  sunshine. 
From  the  furrows  of  the  grave. 

3  Christ  is  risen ;  we  are  risen  ; 
Shed  upon  us  lieavenly  grace, 

Rain  and  dew  and  gleams  of  glorj- 
From  the  brightness  of  thy  face, 

That  we,  with  our  hearts  in  heaven. 
Here  on  earth  may  fruitful  be. 

And  by  angel-hands  be  gathered. 
And  be  ever.  Lord,  with  thee. 

4  Hallelujah  !  hallelujah  ! 
Glory  be  to  God  on  high  ; 

Hallelujah  !  to  the  Saviour, 

Who  has  gained  the  victory-; 
Hallelujah  !  to  the  Spirit, 

Fount  of  love  and  sanctity; 
Hallelujah !  hallelujah ! 

To  the  Triune  Majesty. 

In  each  Russian  city,  on  Easter  morning, 
one  old  friend  meets  another  and  says,  "  The 
Lord  is  risen !"  And  the  other  responds, 
"  The  Lord  is  risen  indeed  !"  We  like  that. 
"  Then  were  the  disciples  ^/(a:</ when  they  saw 
the  Lord."  On  the  weary  eyes  of  weeping 
people  everywhere  what  radiant  revelations  of 
the  future  are  flashed  !  "  Christ  rose,  and  I 
shall  surely  rise  !"  So  it  is  well  to  keep  sing- 
ing. The  day  which  commemorates  a  su- 
preme event  like  this  might  well  be  the  supreme 
day  on  earth.  It  was  at  least  a  pardonable 
extravagance  when  one  high  in  the  true  faith 
exclaimed,  "  Easter  is  the  Amen  of  God  and 
the  Hallelujah  of  humanity  !" 

This  hymn  is  one  of  the  few  imitations  of 
the  ancient  Hallelujahs  which  have  been  suc- 
cessful. It  takes  place  instantly  among  the 
high-rank  compositions  of  the  language.  Dr. 
Christopher  Wordsworth,  the  present  Bishop 
of  Lincoln,  in  England,  is  its  author ;  he  pub- 
lished it  first  in  his  Holy  Year,  1862. 


422  The  Paschal  Lamb.  8s,  7s.  D. 

Hail,  thou  once  despised  Jesus ! 

Hail,  thou  Galilean  King ! 
Thou  didst  suffer  to  release  us; 

Thou  didst  free  salvation  bring. 
Hail,  thou  agonizing  Saviour, 

Bearer  of  our  sin  and  shame! 
By  thy  merits  we  find  favor ; 

Life  is  given  through  thy  name. 

2  Paschal  Lamb,  by  God  appointed. 

All  our  sins  on  ttiee  were  laid  ; 
ys.  D.  By  Almighty  Love  anointed. 

Thou  hast  full  atonement  made : 
All  thy  people  are  forgiven 

Through  the  virtue  of  thy  blood  ; 
Opened  in  the  gate  of  heaven, 

Peace  is  made  'twixt  man  and  God. 

Upon  a  tomb  in  the  churchyard  behind  the 
City  Road  Chapel,  London,  is  this  inscrip- 
tion :  "  Sacred  to  the  memory  of  John  Bake- 
well,  of  Greenwich,  who  departed  this  life 
March  18.  181 9,  aged  ninety-eight.  He 
adorned   the  doctrine   of   God   our  Saviour 


194 


THE   LORD  JESUS  CHRIST. 


eighty  years,  and  preached  his  glorious  gos- 
pel about  seventy  years." 

This  venerable  man  was  one  of  the  earliest 
of  Mr.  Wesley's  lay  preachers.  He  was  born 
at  Brailsford,  Derbyshire,  England,  in  1721. 
At  about  eighteen  years  of  age  his  mind  be- 
gan to  turn  to  things  religious,  and  from  that 
time  onward  he  became  a  most  earnest  evan- 
gelist. He  first  began  to  preach  in  1744.  He 
was  a  friend  of  Wesley,  Madan,  Toplady,  and 
other  good  men,  and  for  some  years  conduct- 
ed the  Greenwich  Royal  Park  Academy. 
Finally  he  gave  his  academical  work  into  the 
hands  of  his  son-in-law.  Dr.  James  Egan, 
and  then  devoted  his  time  to  local  preaching 
for  the  Wesleyans.  Bakewell  wrote  several 
well-known  hymns,  but  the  piece  before  us  is 
considered  the  best.  A  part  of  it  appeared 
in  1757,  and  Madan  published  an  abridgment 
of  it  in  his  collection,  1 760.  But  the  entire 
poem  was  given  to  Toplady  by  the  author ; 
and  he,  after  altering  it  to  suit  his  own  strong 
Calvinistic  views,  published  it  in  1776. 

423  "Enthroned  in  glory."  8s,  7s.  D. 

Jesus,  hail,  enthroned  in  glory, 

There  for  ever  to  abide ; 
All  the  heavenly  hosts  adore  thee, 

Seated  at  thy  Father's  side. 
There  for  sinners  thou  art  pleading ; 

There  thou  dost  our  place  prepare ; 
Ever  for  us  interceding 

Till  in  glorv-  we  appear. 

2  Worship,  honor,  power,  and  blessing, 

Thou  art  worthy  to  receive ; 
Loudest  praises,  without  ceasing. 

Meet  it  is  for  us  to  give. 
Help,  ye  bright  angelic  spirits. 

Bring  your  sweetest,  noblest  lays; 
Help  to  sing  our  Saviour's  merits. 

Help  to  chant  Immanuel's  praise. 

This  is  a  part  of  the  preceding  hymn  by 
Rev.  John  Bakewell,  and  is  simply  divided  for 
the  sake  of  convenience  in  the  setting. 

424  "  The  blood  that  speaketh."  8s,  7s.  D. 

Father,  hear  the  blood  of  Jesus 

Speaking  in  thine  ears  above : 
From  impending  wrath  release  us ; 

Manifest  thy  pardoning  love. 
Oh,  receive  us  to  thy  favor — 

For  his  only  sake  receive ; 
Give  us  to  the  bleeding  Saviour, 

Let  us  by  his  dying  live. 

2  "  To  thy  pardoning  grace  receive  them," 

Once  he  prayed  upon  the  tree ; 
Still  his  blood  cries  out,  "  Forgive  them; 

All  their  sins  were  laid  on  me." 
Still  our  Advocate  in  heaven 

Prays  the  prayer  on  earth  begun — 
"  Father,  show  their  sins  forgiven; 

Father,  glorify  thy  Son  !" 

The  Methodist  Hym7ial  credits  this  to  Rev, 
Charles  Wesley.  It  is  found  in  Hymns  on  the 
Lor  as  Supper,  prepared  by  the  two  brothers 
while  yet  they  signed  themselves  "  Presbyters 


of  the  Church  of  England:"  Bristol,  1745. 
Allusion  is  directly  made  to  the  passage  in 
Hebrews  1 2  :  24  :  "  And  to  Jesus  the  mediator 
of  the  new  covenant,  and  to  the  blood  of  sprink- 
ling, that  speaketh  better  things  than  that  of 
Abel."  The  significance  of  this  contrast  sends 
us  back  to  the  old  story  of  the  world's  first 
awful  crime:  Genesis  4:  9,  10:  "And  the 
Lord  said  unto  Cain,  Where  is  Abel  thy 
brother  ?  And  he  said,  I  know  not :  Am  I 
my  brother's  keeper }  And  he  said,  What 
hast  thou  done  }  the  voice  of  thy  brother's 
blood  crieth  unto  me  from  the  ground."  Abel's 
blood  cried  for  justice  ;  Christ's  blood  cries  for 
mercy ;  Abel's  speaks  of  retribution,  Christ's 
of  pardon ;  Abel's  of  wrath  unspeakable, 
Christ's  of  peace  everlasting  and  secure. 

425  ''Shall  see  his  face.''  8s,  7s.  D. 

"  We  shall  see  Him,"  in  our  nature. 

Seated  on  his  lofty  throne, 
Loved,  adored,  by  every  creature. 

Owned  as  God,  and  God  alone  ! 
There  the  hosts  of  shining  spirits 

Strike  their  harps,  and  loudly  sing 
To  the  praise  of  Jesus'  merits, 

To  the  glory  of  their  King. 

3  When  we  pass  o'er  death's  dark  river, 

"We  shall  see  him  as  he  is," 
Resting  in  his  love  and  favor. 

Owning  all  the  glorj-  his. 
There  to  cast  our  crowns  before  him, 

Oh,  what  bliss  the  thought  affords  ! 
There  for  ever  to  adore  him, 

King  of  kings,  and  Lord  of  lords  I 

Allusion  is  made  here  to  I.  John  3:2.  A 
lowly  Scotswoman,  earning  her  bread  by  her 
needle,  and  selling  her  wares  from  house  to 
house  among  the  families  interested  in  her 
welfare,  Mary  Pyper  yet  had  in  her  soul  the 
music  of  true  devotion  and  piety.  This  is 
evidenced  by  the  poem  quoted  above,  of  which 
she  is  the  author.  She  was  the  daughter  of  a 
private  soldier  in  the  British  army,  and  was 
born  in  Greenock,  Scotland,  May  25,  1795,  in 
which  town  she  died  in  1870.  Almost  her 
entire  life  was  spent  in  Edinburgh,  where  in 
1 847  a  small  volume  of  Select  Pieces  was  pub- 
lished, bearing  her  name.  We  sympathize 
with  the  critic  who  pronounced  so  strongly  in 
favor  of  these  poems,  and  regret  also  that  a 
person  of  so  much  merit  should  have  been 
forced  to  remain  in  indigence.  With  such  a 
root  and  stem,  no  one  can  say  what  delicious 
fruit  might  not  have  been  grown,  if  a  little 
tender  care  had  been  lavished  upon  it. 

426  "Jesus  lives  again."  P.  M. 
Christ  is  risen  !  Christ  is  risen  ! 

He  hath  burst  his  bonds  in  twain; 
Christ  is  risen  !    Christ  is  risen  ! 
Alleluia  !  swell  the  strain  ! 
For  our  gain  he  suffered  loss 

By  divine  decree ; 
He  hath  died  upon  the  cross, 
But  our  God  is  he. — Cho. 


RESURRECTION   AND   REIGN. 


195 


2  See  the  chains  of  death  are  broken  ; 
Earth  below  and  heaven  above 

Joy  in  each  amazing  token 
Of  his  rising,  Lord  of  love; 
He  for  evermore  shall  reign 

By  the  Father's  side, 
Till  he  comes  to  earth  again, 
Comes  to  claim  his  bride. — Cho. 

3  Glorious  angels  downward  thronging 
Hail  the  Lord  of  all  the  skies ; 

Heaven,  with  joy  and  holy  longing 
For  the  Word  Incarnate  cries, 
"  Christ  is  risen  !    Earth,  rejoice ! 

Gleam,  ye  starry  train  ! 
All  creation,  find  a  voice  : 
He  o'er  all  shall  reign." 
Christ  is  risen  !    Christ  is  risen  ! 

He  hath  burst  his  bonds  in  twain  ; 
Christ  is  risen  !  Christ  is  risen  ! 
O'er  the  universe  to  reign. 


REV.   ARCHER  T.   GURNEV. 


The  author  of  this  hymn,  Rev.  Archer 
Thompson  Gurney,  was  born  in  1820,  and 
received  an  education  as  a  lawyer.  He  was 
called  to  the  Bar  in  the  Middle  Temple,  but 
decided  to  enter  the  ministry,  and  took  holy 
orders  in  1849.  He  held  the  curacy  of  Buck- 
ingham from  1854  to  1858,  when  he  became, 
in  Paris,  France,  the  incumbent  of  an  Epis- 
copal Chapel  located  upon  a  "  court,"  where 
he  remained  until  1871.  He  died  at  Bath, 
March  21,  1887.  Mr.  Gurney  published  sev- 
eral poetical  works,  and  contributed  one  hun- 
dred and  forty-seven  hymns  to  the  Book  of 
Praise,  1 862 ;  but  he  is  best  known  by  this 
familiar  and  beautiful  Easter  hymn,  which 
has  been  adopted  by  the  churches  on  both 
sides  of  the  sea. 


427  The  Ascended  Lord. 

O  Lord  most  high,  eternal  King, 
By  thee  redeemed  thy  praise  we  sing : 
The  bonds  of  death  are  burst  by  thee, 
And  grace  has  won  the  victory. 


L.  M. 


2  Ascending  to  the  Father's  throne 
Thou  claim'st  the  kingdom  as  thine  own  ; 
Thy  days  of  mortal  weakness  o'er, 

All  power  is  thine  for  evermore. 

3  To  thee  the  whole  creation  now 
Shall,  in  its  threefold  order,  bow. 

Of  things  on  earth,  and  things  on  high. 
And  things  that  underneath  us  lie. 

4  Be  thou  our  joy,  O  mighty  Lord, 
As  thou  wilt  be  our  great  reward  ; 
Let  all  our  glory  be  in  thee 

Both  now  and  through  eternity. 

St.  Ambrose  of  Milan  wrote  the  fine  old 
hymn,  Sterne  Rex  aliissime,  and  Rev.  Dr. 
John  Mason  Neale  translated  it  into  English  : 
it  was  published  in  the  Hymnal  Noted,  1852. 
But  the  compilers  of  Hymns,  Ancz'enl  and 
Modern,  either  with  his  permission  or  with- 
out, made  such  alterations  in  the  version  they 
found,  that  some  critics  have  half-credited 
the  work  to  them.  However,  it  is  with  the 
consent  of  all  concerned  that  Dr.  Neale's 
name  remains  as  the  responsible  author. 


L.  M. 


428  Christ,  our  Advocate. 

He  lives !  the  great  Redeemer  lives ! 
What  joy  the  blest  assurance  gives  ! 
And  now,  before  his  Father,  God, 
Pleads  the  full  merits  of  his  blood. 

2  Repeated  crimes  awake  our  fears. 
And  justice  armed  with  frowns  appears  ; 
But  in  the  Saviour's  lovely  face 

Sweet  mercy  smiles,  and  all  is  peace. 

3  In  every  dark,  distressful  hour. 
When  sin  and  Satan  join  their  power, 
Let  this  dear  hope  repel  the  dart, 
That  Jesus  bears  us  on  his  heart. 

4  Great  Advocate,  almighty  Friend  ! 
On  him  our  humble  hopes  depend ; 
Our  cause  can  never,  never  fail. 
For  Jesus  pleads,  and  must  prevail. 

Miss  Anne  Steele  is  generally  rated  as  a 
quiet  writer ;  but  this  hymn  shows  that  she 
could  rise  to  excited  praise  whenever  the 
theme  was  full  of  inspiration.  It  is  found  as 
usual  in  the  Poems  by  Theodosia,  1760.  She 
sees  in  the  resurrection  of  the  Lord  Jesus, 
and  in  his  ascension  to  heaven,  the  establish- 
ment of  his  supreme  official  work.  Hence 
the  text  is  added,  Hebrews  7  :  24,  25  :  "  But 
this  m.an,  because  he  continueth  ever,  hath  an 
unchangeable  priesthood.  Wherefore  he  is 
able  also  to  save  them  to  the  uttermost  that 
come  unto  God  by  him,  seeing  he  ever  liveth 
to  make  intercession  for  them." 

429  '' Behold  the  Way  r  L.  M. 

Jesus,  my  All,  to  heaven  is  gone, 
He  whom  I  fix  my  hopes  upon  ; 
His  track  I  see,  and  I  'II  pursue 
The  narrow  way  till  him  I  view. 

2  The  way  the  holv  prophets  went. 
The  road  that  leads  from  banishment. 
The  King's  highway  of  holiness, 
I  '11  go,  for  all  his  paths  are  peace. 


196 


THE   LORD  JESUS   CHRIST. 


3  This  is  the  way  I  long  had  sought, 
And  mourned  because  I  found  it  not ; 
My  grief,  my  burden,  long  had  been 
Because  I  could  not  cease  from  sin. 

4  The  more  I  strove  against  its  power, 
I  sinned  and  stumbled  but  the  more; 
Till  late  I  heard  my  Saviour  say, 

"  Come  hither,  soul,  I  am  the  Way  !" 

5  Lo  !  glad  I  come;  and  thou,  dear  Lamb, 
Shalt  take  me  to  thee  as  I  am. 

Nothing  but  sin  I  thee  can  give; 
Nothing  but  love  shall  I  receive. 

6  Then  will  I  tell,  to  sinners  round, 
What  a  dear  Saviour  I  have  found  ; 
I  '11  point  to  thy  redeeming  blood, 
And  say,  "  Behold  the  way  to  God  !" 

Rev.  John  Cennick,  a  prolific  hymn-writer, 
was  born  at  Reading,  England,  December  1 2, 
1 718,  of  Quaker  parentage,  but  grew  up  in  the 
Church  of  England.  He  was  wild  and  reck- 
less as  a  young  man,  when  he  made  frequent 
visits  to  London ;  but  he  formed  there  a 
friendship  with  a  Mr.  Kinchin  whose  influence 
over  him  became  great,  and  resulted  in  his 
conversion.  He  made  the  acquaintance  of  the 
Wesleys  in  1739  and  was  appointed  by  John 
Wesley  as  teacher  of  a  school  for  colliers' 
children  at  Kingswood.  He  also  began  to  act 
as  a  lay  preacher,  but  in  1 740  he  had  a  dis- 
agreement with  Wesley  as  to  points  of  doc- 
trine, and  withdrew  from  the  work.  Until 
1745  he  assisted  Whitefield  in  his  labors,  but 
then  joined  the  Moravians,  and  was  ordained 
a  deacon  of  that  church  in  1749.  He  died  in 
London,  July  4,  1755.  Mr.  Cennick  published 
many  hymns,  which  are  unequal  in  merit, 
some  of  the  stanzas  being  very  fine,  while 
others  have  been  severely  criticised  by  his 
associates,  the  Wesleys.  A  large  number  of 
his  poems  are  in  general  use  at  the  present 
time.  This  one  was  issued  in  Sacred  Hyjnns 
for  the  use  of  Religious  Societies,  1 743. 

430 


Atonement  made. 


L.  M. 


Now  TO  the  power  of  God  supreme 

Be  everlasting  honors  given ; 
He  saves  from  hell, — we  bless  his  name — 

He  guides  our  wandering  feet  to  heaven. 

2  'T  was  his  own  purpose  that  began 
To  rescue  rebels  doomed  to  die : 

He  gave  us  grace  in  Christ,  his  Son, 
Before  he  spread  the  starry  sky. 

3  Jesus,  the  Lord,  appears  at  last. 

And  makes  his  Father's  counsels  known ; 
Declares  the  gjreat  transactions  past. 
And  brings  immortal  blessings  down. 

4  He  dies ;  and  in  that  dreadful  night 
Doth  all  the  powers  of  hell  destroy ; 

Rising,  he  brings  our  heaven  to  light, 
And  takes  possession  of  the  joy. 

Dr.  Isaac  Watts  gave  us  this  as  No.  137  of 
Book  I.  in  his  Hymns,  1707.  It  is  entitled, 
"  Salvation  by  Grace  in  Christ."  Reference  is 
made  to  II.  Timothy  1:9:  "Be  thou  partaker 
of  the  afflictions  of  the  gospel  according  to 


the  power  of  God,  who  hath  saved  us,  and 
called  us  with  a  holy  calling,  not  according  to 
our  works,  but  according  to  his  own  purpose 
and  grace,  which  was  given  us  in  Christ  Jesus 
before  the  world  began,  but  is  now  made 
manifest  by  the  appearing  of  our  Saviour  Jesus 
Christ,  who  hath  abolished  death,  and  hath 
brought  life  and  immortality  to  light  through 
the  gospel." 

43  1  The  Lord's  Day.  6s,  5s. 

Welcome,  happy  morning ! 

Age  to  age  shall  say  ; 
Hellto-day  is  vanquished, 

Heaven  is  won  to-day  ! 
Lo  !   the  dead  is  living. 

Lord  for  evermore ! 
Him,  their  true  Creator, 

All  his  works  adore! — Ref. 

2  Earth  with  joy  confesses, 
Clothing  her  for  spring. 

All  good  gifts  returned  with 

Her  returning  King ! 
Bloom  in  ever>'  meadow. 

Leaves  on  every  bough. 
Speak  his  sorrow  ended, 

Hail  his  triumph  now. — Ref. 

3  Months  in  due  succession. 
Days  of  lengthening  light. 

Hours  and  passing  moments, 

Praise  thee  in  their  flight ; 
Brightness  of  the  morning, 

Sky  and  fields  and  sea. 
Vanquisher  of  darkness. 

Bring  their  praise  to  thee. — Ref. 

4  Maker  and  Redeemer, 
Life  and  health  of  all. 

Thou  from  heaven  beholding 

Human  nature's  fall, 
Of  the  Father's  Godhead 

True  and  only  Son, 
Manhood  to  deliver. 

Manhood  didst  put  on. — Ref. 

5  Thou  of  life  the  author, 
Death  didst  undergo. 

Tread  the  path  of  darkness. 

Saving  strength  to  show ; 
Come,  then.  True  and  Faithful! 

Now  fulfill  thy  word ; 
'T  is  thine  own  third  morning; 

Rise,  my  buried  Lord  ! — Ref. 

6  Loose  the  hearts  long  prisoned, 
Bound  with  Satan's  chain  ; 

All  that  now  is  fallen 

Raise  to  life  again  ; 
Show  thy  face  in  brightness, 

Bid  the  nations  see; 
Bring  again  our  daylight ; 

Day  returns  with  thee. 

Ref. — Welcome,  happy  morning ! 

Age  to  age  shall  say  ; 
Hell  to-day  is  vanquished, 

Heaven  is  w'on  to-day ! 
Lo !  the  dead  is  living. 

Lord  for  evermore ! 
Him,  their  true  Creator, 

All  his  works  adore ! 

Rev.  John  Ellerton  has  given  us  this  in  his 
Hymns,  1888,  in  full.  It  was  contributed 
first  to  the  Supplementary  Hy7nn  and  Tune 
Book  of  R.  B.  Borthwick,  1 868.  It  is  a  vig- 
orous translation,   or   perhaps   better,   para- 


RESURRECTION   AND   REIGN. 


197 


phrase  of  the  ancient  Salve,  festa  dies,  toto 
■venerabilis  cevo,  written  by  Fortunatus,  Bish- 
op of  Poitiers,  in  the  sixth  century.  Jerome 
of  Prague  sang  this  hymn  on  his  way  to  the 
stake  where  he  was  burned  to  death.  As 
the  fires  wrapped  their  awful  folds  about  his 
body,  he  was  heard  to  exclaim,  "  This  soul  in 
flames  I  offer,  Lord,  to  thee !"  And  so  he 
finished  his  course  and  kept  the  faith. 


432  Christ's  Ascension. 

Golden  harps  are  sounding. 

Angel  voices  ring, 
Pearly  gates  are  opened, 

Opened  for  the  King. 
Christ,  the  King  of  Glory, 

Jesus,  King  of  love. 
Is  gone  up  in  triumph 

To  his  throne  above. 

Ref. — All  his  work  is  ended, 
Joyfully  we  sing; 
Jesus  hath  ascended ! 
Glory  to  our  King ! 

2  He  who  came  to  save  us, 
He  who  bled  and  died, 

Now  is  crowned  with  gladness 

At  his  Father's  side. 
Never  more  to  suffer, 

Never  more  to  die, 
Jesus,  King  of  glory, 

Is  gone  up  on  high. — Ref. 

3  Praying  for  his  children 
In  that  blessed  place, 

Calling  them  to  glor\', 

Sending  them  his  grace ; 
H  is  bright  home  preparing. 

Little  ones,  for  you  ; 
Jesus  ever  liveth, 

Ever  loveth  too. — Ref. 

This  hymn  is  found  in  almost  all  of  the 
books,  little  and  large,  which  have  been  made 
up  of  selections  from  the  Poems  of  Miss 
Frances  Ridley  Havergal.  Its  title  is 
"Ascension  Song,"  and  she  has  affixed  to  it 
a  reference  to  Ephesians  4:8:  "  Wherefore 
he  saith.  When  he  ascended  up  on  high, 
he  led  captivity  captive,  and  gave  gifts  unto 
men."  It  was  written  at  Perry  Barr  in  1871. 
She  was  visiting  there,  and  on  one  occasion 
walked  to  the  boys'  schoolroom.  Being 
very  tired,  she  leaned  against  the  wall  of  the 
playground.  Mr.  Snepp,  who  edited  So/tgs 
of  Grace  and  Glory  in  1872,  was  with  her  at 
the  time :  but  when  she  was  resting  a  little, 
he  went  in.  Returning  in  ten  minutes,  he 
found  her  "  scribbling  on  an  old  envelope." 
At  his  request  she  gave  him  the  piece  she  had 
just  penciled,  which  was  this.  She  was  a 
composer  of  music  as  well,  and  she  subse- 
quently made  the  tune  "  Hermas  "  to  which 
her  words  are  usually  sung.  This  was  the 
strain  she  sang  when  she  was  dying.  Then 
her  sister  adds,  in  the  story  of  her  departure : 
"  Now  she  looked  up  steadfastly,  as  if  she 
saw  the  Lord ;  and  surely  nothing  less  heav- 


enly could  have  reflected  such  a  glorious 
radiance  upon  her  face.  For  ten  minutes  we 
watched  that  almost  visible  meeting  with  her 
King,  and  her  countenance  was  so  glad,  as  if 
she  were  already  talking  to  Him  !  Then  she 
tried  to  sing ;  but  after  one  sweet,  high  note 
her  voice  failed,  and  as  her  brother  com- 
mended her  soul  into  the  Redeemer's  hand, 
she  passed  away." 


6s,  5s.       433  Captivity  led  captive.  P.  M. 

The  strife  is  o'er,  the  battle  done: 
The  victory  of  Life  is  won  : 
The  song  of  triumph  has  begun — 
Hallelujah ! 

2  The  powers  of  death  have  done  their  worst, 
But  Christ  their  legions  hath  dispersed  ; 
Let  shout  of  holv  joy  outburst — 

I  Hallelujah ! 

3  The  three  sad  days  have  quickly  sped  ; 
He  rises  glorious  from  the  dead  ; 
All  glorv  to  our  risen  Head ! 

Hallelujah ! 

4  He  brake  the  age-bound  chains  of  hell : 
The  bars  from  heaven's  high  portals  fell ; 
Let  hvmns  of  praise  his  triumph  tell ! 

Hallelujah ! 

5  Lord,  by  the  stripes  which  wounded  thee, 
From  death's  dread  sting  thy  servants  free, 
That  we  may  live  and  sing  to  thee, 

Hallelujah ! 

The  ancient  Latin  hymn,'' Fzm'ta  jam  stmt 
prcelta,"  is  a  puzzle  to  the  hymn  critics ;  it 
stands  without  the  name  of  any  author  and 
without  the  date  of  any  origin  affixed  to  it. 
The  translation  of  it  here  printed  was  made 
in  1859  by  Rev.  Francis  Pott,  and  published 
two  years  after  in  his  Hymns  Fitted  to  the 
Order  of  Common  Prayer.  It  was  very  much 
altered  when  it  was  introduced  into  Hymns, 
Ancient  and  Modern,  and  the  changes  were 
not  welcome,  and  have  not  been  accepted. 

434  "He  is  risen."  P.  M. 

Morn's  roseate  hues  have  decked  the  sky ; 
The  Lord  has  risen  with  victory* : 
Let  earth  be  glad,  and  raise  the  cry, 
Hallelujah ! 

2  The  Prince  of  Life  with  death  has  striven. 
To  cleanse  the  earth  his  blood  has  given  ; 
Has  rent  the  vail,  and  opened  heaven : 

Hallelujah ! 

3  Our  bodies,  mouldering  to  decay, 
Are  sown  to  rise  to  heavenly  day ; 
For  he  bv  rising  burst  the  way : 

Hallelujah ! 

4  And  he,  dear  Lord,  that  with  thee  dies. 
And  fleshly  passions  crucifies. 
In  bodv,  like  to  thine,  shall  rise: 

Hallelujah ! 

5  Oh,  grant  us,  then,  with  thee  to  die. 
To  spurn  earth's  fleeting  vanity, 
And  love  the  things  above  the  sky : 

Hallelujah ! 

The  translator  of  this  hymn,  Rev.  William 
Cooke,  M.  A.,  was  born   near   Manchester, 


THE    LORD   JESUS   CHRIST, 


England,  in  1821,  studied  at  Cambridge,  and 
took  his  degree  at  Trinity  Hall.  He  was  or- 
dained in  1844,  and  after  having  served  as 
assistant  in  several  churches,  he  was  appointed 
in  1848  to  the  charge  of  St.  John's,  London. 
Two  years  later  he  became  vicar  of  St.  Ste- 
phen's, Shepherd's  Bush,  and  in  1854  was 
made  Honorary  Canon  of  Chester.  Mr. 
Cooke  has  held  several  other  positions  of 
honor  and  influence  and  was  editor  or  joint 
editor  of  three  collections  of  hymns.  He 
translated  for  these  books  some  of  the  Latin 
poems,  the  one  given  above  being  perhaps 
the  most  popular.  This  translation  was  writ- 
ten for  the  Hymnary,  1872.  The  original  is 
to  be  found  in  the  Paris  Breznary,  1736, 
where  it  was  appointed  to  be  sung  the  Suh- 
day  after  Easter  Day. 

435  Ancient  Hymn.  P.  M. 

Ye  sons  and  daughters  of  the  Lord  ! 
The  King  of  Glory,  King  adored, 
This  day  himself  from  death  restored. 

2  On  Sunday  morn,  at  break  of  day. 
The  faithful  women  went  their  way, 
To  see  the  tomb  where  Jesus  lay. 

3  Then  straightway  one  in  white  they  see, 
Who  saith,  "  Ye  seek  the  Lord  ;  but  he 

Is  risen,  and  gone  to  Galilee." 

4  That  night  the  apostles  met  in  fear. 
But  Christ  did  in  their  midst  appear — 
"  My  peace,"  he  said,  "be  on  all  here!" 

5  When  Thomas  first  these  tidings  heard, 
He  doubted  if  it  were  the  Lord, 

Until  he  came  and  spake  this  word  : 

6  "  Behold  my  side,  O  Thomas !  see 
My  hands,  my  feet,  I  show  to  thee; 
Nor  faithless,  but  believing  be." 

7  When  Thomas  saw  that  wounded  side. 
The  truth  no  longer  he  denied. 

"  Thou  art  my  Lord  and  God  !"  he  cried. 

8  How  blest  are  they  who  have  not  seen. 
And  yet  whose  faith  hath  constant  been ! 
For  they  eternal  life  shall  win. 

Various  authorities  classify  the  ancient 
Latin  hymn,  O  filii  et  filice,  as  belonging  some- 
where between  the  thirteenth  and  the  seven- 
teenth century,  but  the  name  of  the  author  is 
not  known.  In  many  of  the  French  dioceses 
the  piece  is  sung  at  the  salutation  of  the  Sac- 
rament on  the  evening  of  Easter  Day.  The 
original  text  can  be  found  in  the  Office  de  la 
Seiname  Sam/e,  Paris,  1674.  The  transla- 
tion into  English  which  is  now  before  us  was 
made  by  Dr.  John  Mason  Neale ;  but  some 
lines  of  it  have  been  changed  by  the  introduc- 
tion of  some  others  taken  from  one  made  by 
Edward  Caswall.  It  appears  therefore  more 
like  a  cento  compiled  from  the  two,  and  is 
much  abridged.  It  owes  its  popularity  more 
to  its  quaintness  and  flavor  of  antiquity,  and 
to  the  music  arranged  by  J.  Barnby  to  which 


it  is  generally  sung,  than  to  any  poetic  merit 
it  possesses. 

436  "Praise  the  Saviour."  P.  M. 

Praise  the  Saviour,  ye  who  know  him  : 
Who  can  tell  how  much  we  owe  him? 
Gladly  let  us  render  to  him 
All  we  are  and  have ! 

2  Sing  of  Jesus,  sing  for  ever 
Of  the  love  that  changes  never ; 
Who  or  what  from  him  can  sever 

Those  he  makes  his  own  ? 

3  With  his  blood  the  Lord  has  bought  them  ; 
When  they  knew  him  not,  he  sought  them, 
And  from  all  their  wanderings  brought  them ; 

His  the  praise  alone. 

4  Jesus  is  the  name  that  charms  us  ; 
He  for  conflict  fits  and  arms  us  ; 
Nothing  moves,  and  nothing  harms  us. 

When  we  trust  in  him. 

5  Trust  in  him,  ye  saints,  for  ever; 
He  is  faithful,  changing  never. 
Neither  force  nor  guile  can  sever 

Those  he  loves  from  him. 

This  bright  hymn,  looking  upward  and 
catching  a  glimpse  of  the  glorified  Saviour  at 
the  side  of  the  Father,  bursts  into  a  song  of 
adoration  and  love.  It  is  found  in  Rev. 
Thomas  Kelly's  Hymns  on  Various  Passages 
of  Scripture,  1806,  entitled  simply,  "  Praise  of 
Jesus." 

437  "Risen  indeed."  S.  M.  D. 

"  The  Lord  is  risen  indeed  !" 

And  are  the  tidings  true? 
Yes,  they  beheld  the  Saviour  bleed, 

And  saw  him  living  too. 
"  The  Lord  is  risen  indeed  !" 

Then  justice  asks  no  more; 
Mercy  and  truth  are  now  agreed, 

Who  stood  opposed  before. 

2  " The  Lord  is  risen  indeed!" 
Then  is  his  work  performed  ; 

The  mighty  Captive  now  is  freed. 
And  death,  our  foe,  disarmed. 

"  The  Lord  is  risen  indeed  !" 
He  lives  to  die  no  more  ; 

He  lives,  the  sinner's  cause  to  plead. 
Whose  curse  and  shame  he  bore. 

3  "  The  Lord  is  risen  indeed  !" 
Attending  angels !  hear ; 

Up  to  the  courts  of  heaven  with  speed 

The  joyful  tidings  bear. 
Then  wake  your  golden  lyres, 

And  strike  each  cheerful  chord ; 
Join,  all  ye  bright,  celestial  choirs! 

To  sing  our  risen  Lord. 

Another  of  Rev.  Thomas  Kelly's  composi- 
tions, taken  from  his  Hymns  on  Various  Pas- 
sages, 1809,  and  founded  on  Luke  24  :  34.  No 
mere  ecclesiastical  authority  has  established 
what  is  called  Easter.  It  has  no  denomina- 
tional or  sectarian  significance  to  it.  It  is 
neither  specially  prelatical  nor  papal.  It  is 
not  prelatical ;  for  churches  of  the  reformed 
faith,  in  lands  which  conscientiously  reject 
bishops,  celebrate  this  anniversary  with  as 
much  appropriateness  and  zeal  as  any  other. 


RESURRECTION   AND   REIGN. 


199 


And  it  certainly  is  not  papal,  for,  historically, 
it  had  its  place  and  its  celebration  long  before 
the  corruptions  of  the  Roman  hierarchy  had 
defiled  the  primitive  faith.  It  followed  the 
day  of  the  ancient  Passover  very  like  the  em- 
blematic feast  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  perpet- 
uating all  there  was  valuable  in  it,  and  then 
transcending  it  with  a  special  value  of  its  own. 
We  trace  the  observance  distinctly  back  to 
the  earliest  ages  of  the  Christian  era,  those 
trustworthy  times  when  Polycarp  suffered  and 
Ignatius  wrote.  Indeed,  Easter  is  not  a  church 
festival  at  all  so  much  as  it  is  a  mere  religious 
memorial.  Quite  possibly  a  recognition  of 
Easter  Sabbath  as  a  recurring  date  might 
sometimes  be  rendered  of  essential  service  in 
keeping  the  facts  of  our  Lord's  resurrection 
vividly  in  mind. 


438 


'Lead  us  to  thee!" 


S.M.D. 


Thou  art  gone  up  on  hi^h 

To  mansions  in  the  skies, 
And  round  thy  throne  unceasingly 

The  songs  of  praise  arise. 
But  we  are  lingering  here 

With  sin  and  care  oppressed  : 
Lord  !  send  thy  promised  Comforter, 

And  lead  us  to  thy  rest ! 

2  Thou  art  gone  up  on  high  : 

But  thou  didst  first  come  down, 
Througii  earth's  most  bitter  misery 

To  pass  unto  thy  crown. 
And  girt  with  griefs  and  fears 

Our  onward  course  must  be; 
But  only  let  that  path  of  tears 

Lead  us  at  last  to  thee  ! 

3  Thou  art  gone  up  on  high  : 
But  thou  shalt  come  again 

With  all  the  bright  ones  of  the  sky 

Attendant  in  thy  train. 
Oh,  by  thy  saving  power 

So  make  us  live  and  die 
That  we  may  stand  in  that  dread  hour 

At  thy  right  hand  on  high  ! 

Although  the  writer  of  many  pleasing  hymns, 
Mrs.  Emma  Leslie  Toke  has  never  published 
any.  Her  hymns  written  in  1851  were  given 
at  the  request  of  a  friend  to  aid  the  Committee 
of  the  Society  for  Promoting  Christian  Know- 
ledge, when  they  were  compiling  their  Hymn- 
Book,  and  these  were  sent  anonymously. 

Mrs.  Toke  was  the  daughter  of  Rev.  John 
Leslie,  D.  D.,  Bishop  of  Kilmore,  and  was 
born,  August  9,  181 2,  at  Holywood,  Belfast, 
Ireland.  In  1837  she  married  Rev.  Nicholas 
Toke,  of  Codington  Park,  Ashford,  Kent, 
England.     She  died  in  1872. 

439  "  Many  Crowns."  S.M.D. 

Crown  him  with  many  crowns, 

The  Lamb  upon  his  throne ; 
Hark  !  how  the  heavenly  anthem  drowns 

All  music  but  its  own  ! 
Awake,  my  soul,  and  sing 

Of  him  who  died  for  thee; 
And  hail  him  as  thy  matchless  King 

Through  all  eternity. 


2  Crown  him  the  Lord  of  love  ! 
Behold  his  hands  and  side, 

Those  wounds,  yet  visible  above, 

In  beauty  glorined  : 
No  angel  in  the  sky 

Can  fully  bear  that  sight, 
But  downward  bends  his  wondering  eye 

At  mysteries  so  bright. 

3  Crown  him  the  Lord  of  heaven  ! 
One  with  the  Father  known, 

And  the  blest  Spirit  through  him  given 

From  yonder  Triune  throne  ! 
All  hail.  Redeemer,  hail! 

For  thou  hast  died  for  me : 
Thy  praise  and  glorj-  shall  not  fail 

Throughout  eternity.  • 

Matthew  Bridges,  writer  of  many  excellent 
hymns,  was  born  in  Essex,  July  14,  1800,  and 
educated  in  the  Church  of  England,  although 
in  1848  he  became  a  Roman  Catholic.  His 
earliest  poems  were  published  in  1825,  and 
were  followed  at  the  time  of  his  change  of 
faith  by  Hyjitfts  of  the  Heart,  1848,  which  in- 
clude many  of  his  ftnest  songs;  and  in  1852 
by  The  Passion  of  Jesus.  In  the  last  book  is 
to*  be  found  this  hymn,  entitled,  "  Third  Sor- 
rowful Mystery,  Song  of  the  Seraphs."  It 
ranks  as  one  of  his  most  spiritual  and  beauti- 
ful poems,  and  has  been  widely  used  by 
churches  both  in  England  and  America.  Mr. 
Bridges  removed  to  Canada,  and  of  late  years 
has  resided  in  the  Province  of  Quebec. 


440 


'  The  work  is  do7te.' 


S.  M.  D. 


Bkvond  the  starry  skies, 

Far  as  the  eternal  hills, 
There  in  the  boundless  world  of  light 

Our  great  Redeemer  dwells. 
Around  him  angels  fair 

In  countless  armies  shine; 
And  ever,  in  exalted  lays, 

They  offer  songs  divine. 

2  "  Hail,  Prince  of  Life!"  they  cry, 
"Whose  unexampled  love 

Moved  thee  to  quit  these  glorious  realms 

And  royalties  above." 
And  when  he  stooped  to  earth, 

And  suffered  rucfe  disdain. 
They  cast  their  honors  at  his  feet. 

And  waited  in  his  train. 

3  They  saw  him  on  the  cross, 
While  darkness  vailed  the  skies, 

And  when  he  burst  the  gates  of  death. 
They  saw  the  conqueror  rise. 

They  thronged  his  chariot  wheels, 
And  bore  him  to  his  throne; 

Then  swept  their  golden  harps  and  sung — 
"  The  glorious  work  is  done." 

The  original  form  of  this  hymn  is  probably, 
"  Beyond  the  glittering,  starry  globes."  Rev. 
James  Fanch,  who  is  supposed  to  have  been 
joint  author  with  Rev.  Dr.  Daniel  Turner, 
was  bom  in  1704,  and  died  December  12. 
1767.  He  was  for  many  years  a  Baptist  min- 
ister at  Romsey,  England,  and  in  Hants, 
though  little  is  known  of  his  life.  The  hymn 
appeared  in  Dr.  Turner's  Sacred  and  Moral 
Poems,  1794,  and  in  that  book  it  has  more 


2CX> 


THE    LORD   JESUS   CHRIST. 


than  twenty  stanzas.  It  has  been  very  much 
ahered  in  every  collection  which  has  printed 
it. 

44  I  The  Ascension.  ys.  D. 

He  is  gone — a  cloud  of  light 
Has  received  him  from  our  sight ; 
High  in  heaven,  where  eye  of  men 
Follows  not,  nor  angels  ken  ; 
Through  the  vails  of  time  and  space. 
Passed  into  the  holiest  place; 
All  the  toil,  the  sorrow  done. 
All  the  battle  fought  and  won. 

2  He  is  gone — towards  their  goal 
World  and  church  must  onward  roll : 
Far  behind  we  leave  the  past ; 
For%vard  are  our  glances  cast : 

Still  his  words  before  us  range 
Through  the  ages  as  they  change: 
VVheresoe'er  the  truth  shall  lead. 
He  will  give  whate'er  we  need. 

3  He  is  gone — but  we  once  more 
Shall  behold  him  as  before  : 

In  the  heaven  of  heavens  the  same 

As  on  earth  he  went  and  came. 

In  the  many  mansions  there 

Place  for  us  he  will  prepare : 

In  that  world  unseen,  unknown,  • 

He  and  we  may  yet  be  one. 

4  He  is  gone — but  not  in  vain, 
Wait  until  he  comes  again : 
He  is  risen,  he  is  not  here; 
Far  above  this  earthly  sphere 
Evermore  in  heart  and  mind 
There  our  peace  in  him  we  find : 
To  our  own  eternal  Friend, 
Thitherward  let  us  ascend. 


being  the  rector  of  the  church  in  that  parish. 
He  entered  the  school  at  Rugby  when  he  was 
fourteen  years  of  age,  and  was  prepared  for 
college  under  the  care  of  that  prince  of  teach- 
ers, Dr.  Thomas  Arnold.  Everybody  has 
read  the  story  of  Tom  Brown's  School-days 
at  Rugby ;  it  is  said  that  the  character  of 
"Arthur  "  in  that  tale  found  its  original  sug- 
gestion in  this  famous  Dean  of  Westminster. 
He  graduated  in  1837  at  Balliol  College,  Ox- 
ford. Twenty  years  afterward  he  was  ap- 
pointed Professor  of  Ecclesiastical  History  in 
that  same  university.  But  in  1863  he  came 
forth  from  cloister  life  and  accepted  the  posi- 
tion of  dean  in  England's  proudest  abbey. 
This  ofifice  he  held  until  his  death,  July  18, 
1881. 

Dean  Stanley  is  known  in  this  country  bet- 
ter through  his  printed  volumes,  his  lectures 
on  the  Jewish  Church  and  on  the  -Eastern 
Church,  than  by  his  hymns.  He  was  famed 
as  a  preacher  in  his  later  years  also.  It  was 
our  glad  privilege  on  one  remembered  occa- 
sion to  listen  to  the  voice  of  Dean  Stanley  in 
his  own  pulpit.  We  saw  the  notice  of  a  ser- 
vice on  a  stormy  Sunday,  and  assumed  that 
one  more  in  the  audience  would  not  be  un- 
welcome. It  was  raining  as  only  Great  Brit- 
ain knows  how  to  rain  in  winter.  London 
streets  were  fearful.  Yet  great  crowds  of 
people  stood  just  outside  of  Westminster  Ab- 
bey, as  did  we,  for  near  an  hour,  waiting  till 
the  door  should  be  opened.  Then  that  vast 
nave  was  thronged  as  far  back  from  the  pul- 
pit as  it  was  possible  to  hear  any  living  voice. 
The  stone  pavement  was  wet  from  the  drip- 
ping garments,  and  the  chill  day  was  unutter- 
ably cheerless.  But  when  the  speaker  began 
his  discourse,  every  discouragement  was  for- 
gotten. And  we  bore  away  with  us  a  mem- 
ory, that  now  shines  out  through  the  years,  of 
a  thoughtful  man  and  a  sincere  Christian. 

The  present  hymn  was  written  in  1859  for 
the  use  of  a  private  family,  and  was  first  pub- 
lished in  Macmillati  s  Magazine,  June,  1862. 


DEAN  STANLEY. 


The  Rev.  Arthur  Penrhyn  Stanley,  D.  D., 
was  born  in  Alderley,  England,  December  13, 
181 5.     He  was  a   minister's  son,  his  father 


442  "Death  is  dead." 

Sing,  O  heavens !  O  earth  !  rejoice, 
Angel  harp  and  human  voice ! 
Round  him,  as  he  rises,  raise 
Your  ascending  Saviour's  praise! 
Bruised  is  the  serpent's  head ; 
Hell  is  vancjuished,  death  is  dead  ; 
And  to  Christ,  gone  up  on  high, 
Captive  is  captivity. 

2  All  his  work  and  warfare  done. 
He  into  his  heaven  is  gone; 
And,  beside  his  Father's  throne, 
Now  is  pleading  for  his  own. 
Sing,  O  heavens !  O  earth  !  rejoice. 
Angel  harp  and  human  voice! 
Round  him,  in  his  glory,  raise 
Your  ascended  Saviour's  praise. 


7S.  D. 


RESURRECTION  AND   REIGN. 


In  Rev.  Dr.  John  S.  B.  Monsell's  Hymns 
of  Lmie  and  Praise,  1863,  this  is  found  in  five 
stanzas  from  which  the  two  double-stanza 
verses  here  given  are  compiled.  It  has  an- 
nexed to  it  the  reference,  Psalm  47  :  5,  6  : 
"  God  is  gone  up  with  a  shout,  the  Lord  with 
the  sound  of  a  trumpet.  Sing  praises  to  God, 
sing  praises  :  sing  praises  unto  our  King,  sing 
praises."  He  calls  it  a  "  Hymn  for  Ascension 
Day." 

443  The  Risen  Redeemer.  7s. 

Christ,  the  Lord,  is  risen  to  day, 
Our  triumphant  holy-day : 
He  endured  the  cross  and  grave, 
Sinners  to  redeem  and  save. 

2  Lo  !  he  rises,  mighty  King ! 
Where,  O  Death  !  is  now  thy  sting? 
Lo !  he  claims  his  native  sky  ! 
Grave!  Where  is  thy  victory? 

3  Sinners,  see  your  ransom  paid, 
Peace  with  God  for  ever  made ; 
With  your  risen  Saviour  rise; 
Claim  with  him  the  purchased  skies. 

4  Christ,  the  Lord,  is  risen  to-day, 
Our  triumphant  holy-day. 

Loud  the  song  of  victory  raise; 
Shout  the  great  Redeemer's  praise. 

This  anonymous  composition  is  found  in 
Lyra  Da7ndka,  1 708  ;  afterwards  it  appeared 
in  Evans'  Collection,  1786,  entitled  "  The 
Resurrection  Hymn."  It  seems  too  good  to 
remain  nameless. 

Christians  at  large  have  already  had,  and 
through  all  time  cherished,  one  excellent  aid 
in  remembering  that  "  Jesus  Christ,  of  the 
seed  of  David,  was  raised  from  the  dead." 
The  institution  of  the  first  day  of  the  week  as 
the  Sabbath  is  a  permanent  memorial.  We 
all  understand  that  a  primary  and  important 
office  of  the  remarkable  alteration  of  the  day, 
noticeable  between  the  Old  Testament  and 
the  New,  even  the  change  in  name  which  now 
calls  it  the  "  Lord's  Day,"  was  just  to  perpet- 
uate the  august  fact  of  Jesus'  rising  from  the 
tomb. 

We  have  no  healthful  or  happy  associations 
with  Saturday.  It  was  the  day  in  which 
wickedness  triumphed  and  death  held  rule. 
Sunday,  the  first  day  of  the  week,  opened  with 
a  new  light,  and  all  our  memories  of  it  are 
joyous.  In  religious  matters  it  is  often  quite 
as  necessary  to  prompt  recollection  as  it  is  to 
instruct  intelligence.  We  need  to  be  reminded 
quite  as  much  as  we  need  to  be  taught.  Men 
are  profited  frequently  by  a  rehearsal  of  old 
truth  as  well  as  by  the  revelation  of  new. 

And  we  cannot  help  thinking  that  Easter 
makes  an  excellent  .annual  Lord's  Day.  In 
most  countries  where  the  Gospel  has  made 
its  way  a  yearly  recognition  is  likewise  insti- 


tuted in  the  form  of  an  anniversary.  It  is 
encouraging  to  note  that  the  American  peo- 
ple are  working  toward  this  rapidly. 


The  Resurrection.  7s. 

Angels  !  roll  the  rock  away ; 
Death  !  yield  up  thy  mighty  prey ; 
See!  the  Saviour  leaves  the  tomb, 
Glowing  with  immortal  bloom. 

2  Hark  !  the  wondering  angels  raise 
Louder  notes  of  joyful  praise; 

Let  the  earth's  remotest  bound 
Echo  with  the  blissful  sound. 

3  Saints  on  earth,  lift  up  your  eyes — 
Now  to  glory  see  him  rise 

In  long  triumph  through  the  sky. 
Up  to  waiting  worlds  on  high. 

4  Heaven  unfolds  its  portals  wide! 
Mighty  Conqueror!  through  them  ride; 
King  of  glor>-!  mount  thy  throne, 
Boundless  empire  is  thine  own. 

Rev.  Thomas  Scott,  the  writer  of  this  hymn, 
was  born  in  Norwich,  England,  in  1705,  and 
was  the  son  of  a  Dissenting  minister.  As  a 
young  man  he  taught  in  a  school  in  Norfolk, 
and  preached  once  a  month  at  Harleston.  In 
1733  he  was  settled  as  a  pastor  at  Lowestoft ; 
but,  as  the  climate  proved  too  severe  for  his 
delicate  health,  he  removed  a  year  later  to 
Ipswich,  where  he  was  co-pastor  with  Mr. 
Baxter,  minister  of  the  Presbyterian  congre- 
gation. On  the  death  of  Mr.  Baxter  in  1740 
he  succeeded  to  the  full  charge  ;  this  he  held 
for  many  years,  but  in  1774  his  health  failed, 
and  he  was  compelled  to  resign  ,  his  office, 
although  he  still  preached  at  Hapton  in  Nor- 
folk, whither  he  had  retired  on  leaving  Ip- 
swich. He  died  there  in  1775.  Mr.  Scott 
was  the  author  of  several  poetical  works,  in- 
cluding The  Book  of  Job,  in  English  Verse  ; 
translated  from  the  original  Hebrew,  with 
Remarks  Historical,  Critical,  and  Explana- 
tory. He  wrote  a  number  of  hymns  which 
appear  in  old  Presbyterian  collections  and  in 
some  Unitarian  books.  The  hymn  quoted 
above  consisted  originally  of  nine  stanzas,  and 
has  been  much  altered  ;  it  is  supposed  to  have 
been  written  in  1769. 


445  "Lion  of  Judah." 

Rise,  glorious  Conqueror,  rise; 
Into  thy  native  skies — 

Assume  thy  right ; 
And  where  in  iriany  a  fold 
The  clouds  are  backward  rolled- 
Pass  through  those  gates  of  gold. 

And  reign  in  light ! 

2  Victor  o'er  death  and  hell ! 
Cherubic  legions  swell 

Thy  radiant  train : 
Praises  all  heaven  inspire; 
Each  angel  sweeps  his  Wre, 
And  waves  his  wings  of  fire — 

Thou  Lamb  once  slain ! 


6s,  4s. 


202 


THE   LORD  JESUS  CHRIST. 


3  Enter,  incarnate  God  ! 
No  feet  but  thine  have  trod 

The  serpent  down : 
Blow  the  full  trumpets,  blow ! 
Wider  yon  portals  throw  ! 
Saviour  triumphant — go. 

And  take  thy  crown ! 

4  Lion  of  Judah — Hail ! 
And  let  thy  name  prevail 

From  age  to  age; 
Lord  of  the  rolling  years. 
Claim  for  thine  own  the  spheres, 
For  thou  hast  bought  with  tears 

Thy  heritage! 

This  hymn  by  Matthew  Bridges  can  be 
found  in  full  in  the  Lyra  Catholica  ;  it  first 
appeared  in  his  Hynms  of  the  Heart,  1848, 
where  it  had  seven  stanzas,  and  was  entitled 
"Ascension."  Most  of  the  compositions  of 
this  author,  once  an  Episcopalian,  but  now  a 
Roman  Catholic,  were  introduced  into  the 
hymnals  in  the  Protestant  churches  through 
the  Ply7nouth  Collectiofi  of  Henry  Ward 
Beecher,  1855.  Mr.  Bridges  was  born  in 
1800,  and  of  late  has  been  residing  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Quebec ;  he  must  be  very 
old,  if  living  at  the  present  time. 

443  "Jesus  is  King."  6s,  4s. 

Let  us  awake  pur  joys. 
Strike  up  with  cheerful  voice, 

Each  creature,  sing — 
Angels,  begin  the  song. 
Mortals,  the  strain  prolong. 
In  accents  sweet  and  strong, 

"Jesus  is  King." 

2  All  hail  the  glorious  day. 
When  through  the  heavenly  way, 

Lo,  he  sfiall  come ! 
While  they  who  pierced  him  wail. 
His  promise  shall  not  fail ; 
Saints,  see  your  King  prevail : 

Great  Saviour,  come. 

This  piece  was  contributed  by  its  author, 
Rev.  William  Kingsbury,  to  Dobell's  New 
Selection,  1806.  His  name  is  connected  with 
only  one  other  hymn — that  beginning,  "  Great 
Lord  of  all  thy  churches!  hear."  He  was 
born  July  12,  1744,  in  Bishopsgate  Sreeet, 
London ;  began  his  education  at  the  Mer- 
chant Tailors'  School,  and  continued  it  at 
,  Christ's  Hospital  School.  Subsequently  he 
studied  for  the  ministry  at  an  Independent 
Academy  in  London,  and  when  but  twenty- 
one  years  old  was  ordained.  The  forty-five 
years  of  his  pastoral  labors  were  spent  with 
the  ancient  Congregational  Church,  Above 
Bar,  in  Southampton ;  and  here  he  died 
peacefully,  February  i8,  1818. 

447  "Worthy the  Lamb !"  6s,  4s. 

Glory  to  God  on  high  ! 
Let  heaven  and  earth  reply, 

"  Praise  ye  his  name !" 
His  love  and  grace  adore. 
Who  all  our  sorrows  bore; 
Sing  loud  for  evermore, 

"  Worthy  the  Lamb  !" 


2  While  they  around  the  throne 
Cheerfully  join  in  one. 

Praising  his  name — 
Ye  who  have  felt  his  blood 
Sealing  your  peace  with  God, 
Sound  his  dear  name  abroad, 

"  Worthy  the  Lamb  !" 

3  Join,  all  ye  ransomed  race, 
Our  Lord  and  God  to  bless ; 

Praise  ye  his  name  ! 
In  him  we  will  rejoice. 
And  make  a  joyful  noise. 
Shouting  with  heart  and  voice, 

"  Worthy  the  Lamb  !" 

Rev.  James  Allen,  preacher  and  hymn- 
wTiter,  was  born  at  Gayle  in  Yorkshire,  Eng- 
land, June  24,  1734.  As  the  boy  grew  up  he 
was  intended  at  first  to  be  a  clergyman  of  the 
Established  Church,  but  during  his  study  years 
he  became  interested  in  the  teaching  of  Benja- 
min Ingham,  the  founder  of  the  sect  which 
bore  his  name.  They  were  Independents  in 
church  discipline,  but  had  some  peculiarities 
of  doctrine  and  practice ;  Mr.  Allen  joined 
their  number,  becoming  a  zealous  itinerant 
preacher.  On  one  occasion  he  was  saved  from 
a  mob  only  by  the  fortunate  arrival  of  an  old 
friend,  who  was  a  local  magistrate.  In  1761 
he  went  to  Scotland  to  investigate  the  char- 
acter of  the  churches  which  had  been  founded 
by  the  preachers  Glas  and  Sandeman,  and 
was  so  much  impressed  by  his  observations 
that  he  retired  from  the  Inghamites  and  joined 
the  Sandemanians.  He  afterwards  left  the 
new  sect,  and  built  a  chapel  in  his  own  estate 
at  Gayle,  where  he  ministered  until  his  death, 
October  31,  1804.  Mr.  Allen  was  the  editor 
and  principal  contributor  to  the  Keftdal  Hymn 
Book,  1757.  Nearly  a  hundred  of  his  compo- 
sitions have  appeared  in  different  books  since, 
but  few  are  in  common  use  at  present. 


448  Christ  for  the  World. 

Christ  for  the  world  we  sing; 
The  world  to  Christ  we  bring. 

With  loving  zeal ; 
The  poor,  and  them  that  mourn, 
The  faint  and  overborne. 
Sin-sick  and  sorrow-worn. 

Whom  Christ  doth  heal. 

2  Christ  for  the  world  we  sing ; 
The  world  to  Christ  we  bring, 

With  fervent  prayer ; 
The  wayward  and  the  lost. 
By  restless  passions  tossed. 
Redeemed  at  countless  cost 

From  dark  despair. 

3  Christ  for  the  world  we  sing ; 
The  world  to  Christ  we  bring. 

With  one  accord ; 
With  us  the  work  to  share. 
With  us  reproach  to  dare. 
With  us  the  cross  to  bear. 

For  Christ  our  Lord. 

4  Christ  for  the  world  we  sing; 
The  world  to  Christ  we  bring. 

With  joyful  song ; 
The  new-born  souls,  whose  days, 
Reclaimed  from  error's  ways, 
Inspired  with  hope  and  praise. 

To  Christ  belong. 


6s,  4s. 


RESURRECTION   AND    REIGN. 


203 


Rev.  Samuel  Wolcott,  D.  D.,  the  author  of 
this  hymn,  has  given  an  account  of  the  sug- 
gestion which  first  brought  it  into  existence. 
Some  time  in  the  year  1869  the  Young  Men's 
Associations  of  Ohio  met  in  one  of  the  churches 
of  Cleveland.  Over  the  pulpit  in  evergreen 
letters  they  placed  their  motto :  "  Christ  for 
the  World,  and  the  World  for  Christ."  On 
the  way  home  from  the  first  service,  walking 
by  himself  in  the  road  in  a  spirit  of  meditation, 
he  "  put  together  these  four  stanzas  "  as  they 
now  appear.  He  had  himself  been  a  faithful 
missionary  for  many  years  in  Syria,  and  his 
heart  was  aflame  when  such  a  sentiment  kin- 
dled it.  This  author  began  to  compose  hymns 
only  in  his  later  life.  Behind  him  have  been 
left  more  than  two  hundred  in  number,  of 
varying  excellence,  which  it  is  hoped  will  some 
day  find  their  way  into  the  modern  hymnals 
for  use.  He  wrote  these  words  in  1883,  less 
than  three  years  previous  to  his  somewhat 
sudden  decease :  "  I  have  the  feeling  that  I 
can  write  a  better  hymn  than  I  have  yet  writ- 
ten ;  and,  having  leisure  now,  am  turning  my 
attention  that  way.  But  after  all,  a  good 
hymn  can  be  written  only  as  it  is  given  of 
God ;  and  it  usually  comes,  if  at  all,  at  some 
unconscious  moment.  And  after  it  is  written, 
it  can  soar  only  as  some  suitable  tune  may 
furnish  it  with  wings."  This  hymn  was  ap- 
propriately sung  at  the  funeral  of  its  author 
in  the  various  churches  he  served. 

449  The  Angels'  praise.  6s,  4s. 
Sing,  sing  his  lofty  praise, 

Whom  angels  can  not  raise, 

But  whom  they  sing ; 
Jesus  who  reigns  above, 
Object  of  angels'  love, 
Jesus,  whose  g:race  we  prove, 

Jesus,  our  King. 

2  Rich  is  the  grace  we  sing, 
Poor  is  the  praise  we  bring, 

Not  as  we  ought ; 
But  when  we  see  his  face. 
In  yonder  glorious  place, 
Then  shall  we  sing  his  grace. 

Sing  without  fault. 

This  hymn  of  Rev.  Thomas  Kelly,  found 
in  the  fifth  edition  of  his  book,  1820,  has  six 
stanzas,  from  which  the  two  here  in  use  have 
been  selected.  It  has  annexed  to  it  a  refer- 
ence to  Psalm  145  :  I,  2. 

450  The  Return  to  Heaven.  8 
Jesus  comes,  his  conflict  over, 

Conies  to  claim  his  great  reward ; 
Angels  round  the  Victor  hover, 

Crowding  to  behold  their  Lord  ; 
Haste,  ye  saints  !  your  tribute  bring. 
Crown  him,  everlasting  King. 

2  Yonder  throne  for  him  erected. 
Now  becomes  the  Victor's  seat ; 

Lo,  the  Man  on  earth  rejected  ! 
Angels  worship  at  his  feet : 

Haste,  ye  saints  !  your  tribute  bring, 

Crown  him,  everlasting  King. 


i,  7S,  78. 


3  Day  and  night  they  cry  before  him, 

"  Holy,  holy,  holy  Lord  !" 
All  the  powers  of  heaven  adore  him, 

All  obey  his  sovereign  word ; 
Haste,  ye  saints  !  your  tribute  bring, 
Crown  him,  everlasting  King. 

Rev.  Thomas  Kelly  gives  us  this  in  addi- 
tion to  the  many  other  excellent  helps  in  our 
singing.  It  was  written  or  first  published  in 
1806,  and  was  suggested  by  I.  Corinthians 
15  :  54.  In  the  stanza  usually  omitted  the  line 
began,  "  Hark,  ten  thousand  voices  cry."  The 
piece  is  valuable  because  of  the  rareness  with 
which  our  poets  seem  to  choose  for  their  song 
that  majestic  moment  chosen  here — the  mo- 
ment when  Immanuel  returns  to  his  Father's 
side.  A  passage  in  the  book  of  Revelation 
reaches  the  absolute  height  of  sublimity  as  it 
rehearses  the  incidents  of  that  spectacle,  and 
it  records  the  vast  ascription  of  honors  to 
Christ :  "  Saying  with  a  loud  voice,  Worthy  is 
the  Lamb  that  was  slain  to  receive  power,  and 
riches,  and  wisdom,  and  strength,  and  honor, 
and  glory,  and  blessing."  This  seems  to  in- 
clude everything  that  mind  can  conceive  of 
supreme  ownership  and  control.  They  lay  the 
universe  down  at  his  feet.  The  special  reason 
they  suggest  for  their  applause  is  significant. 
It  is  as  the  "  Lamb  that  was  slain  "  that  they 
exalt  him  to  the  eminence.  These  angels  had 
no  part  in  the  atonement,  but  they  knew  just 
where  Christ's  greatest  exploits  had  been  done. 
They  had  for  ages  "  desired  earnestly  to  look 
into  "  this  mystery  of  his  humiliation  ;  now 
they  understood  what  it  meant.  Just  before 
Jesus  left  the  bosom  of  the  Father,  on  his  way 
to  suffering  and  death,  while  even  the  lowliest 
garments  of  his  humiliation  were  on  him,  they 
had  been  challenged  to  pay  him  the  usual 
adoration  :  "  And  again,  when  he  bringeth  in 
the  first-begotten  into  the  world,  he  saith.  And 
let  all  the  angels  of  God  worship  "him."  As  if  the 
Almighty  would  say,  "  You  shall  not  even  now 
despise  my  Son  !  though  he  is  bearing  sin  and 
shame  and  contumely,  give  him  every  honor 
as  the  chief  in  the  realm  !"  Now  they  saw  him 
coming  to  his  old  place  and  glory  again ;  and 
they  knew  that  the  Lamb  of  God  had  brought 
fresh  honor  to  his  adorable  name.  "  And  the 
four  living  creatures  said,  Amen  !"  Here  was 
an  anthem  in  one  word.  And  "  Amen  /"  is 
the  same  in  all  human  languages.  Here  was 
the  universal  endorsement  of  the  themes  of 
all  the  songs  at  once.  For  "  Amen  I"  means, 
"  So  be  it."  Hence,  it  was  the  acquiescence 
of  all  creation.  Here,  then,  was  the  last  dox- 
ology  of  a  satisfied  realm  that  the  Lamb  of  God 
was  going  hereafter  to  rule.  It  was  the  calm 
rejoicing  of  a  universe  which  had  reached 
good  government  at  last.     There  is  rest  for 


204 


THE  LORD  JESUS  CHRIST. 


the  tired  heart  in  that  sweet  glad  Amen  ! 
There  is  peace  for  all  the  singing  soldiers  of 
God  in  that  Amen  !  There  is  solace  for  the 
disturbed  foreboding  mind  in  that  Amen  ! 
Oh,  there  is  infinite  satisfaction  for  the  uni- 
verse in  that  Amen.  It  makes  one  feel  like 
falling  down,  as  the  elders  did,  and  worship- 
ing him  "  that  liveth  for  ever  and  ever." 

451  Isaiah  6^:1.  85,75,73. 

Who  is  this  that  comes  from  Edom, 
All  his  raiment  stained  with  blood; 

To  the  slave  proclaiming  freedom ; 
Bringing  and  bestowing  good : 

Glorious  in  the  garb  he  wears, 

Glorious  in  the  spoils  he  bears? 

2  'T  is  the  Saviour,  now  victorious, 
Traveling  onward  in  his  might ; 

'T  is  the  Saviour,  oh,  how  glorious 

To  his  people  is  the  sight ! 
Jesus  now  is  strong  to  save ; 
Mighty  to  redeem  the  slave. 

3  Why  that  blood  his  raiment  staining? 
'T  is  the  blood  of  many  slain ; 

Of  his  foes  there's  none  remaining, 

None  the  contest  to  maintain: 
Fallen  they,  no  more  to  rise. 
All  their  glory  prostrate  lies. 

4  Mighty  Victor,  reign  for  ever; 
Wear  the  crown  so  dearly  won ; 

Never  shall  thy  people,  never 

Cease  to  sing  what  thou  hast  done ; 
Thou  hast  fought  thy  people's  foes. 
Thou  hast  healed  thy  people's  woes. 

Another  of  Rev.  Thomas  Kelly's  Hymns 
on  Various  Passages  of  Scripture  ;  published 
in  1809,  and  founded  upon  Isaiah  63:1-3. 
"  Who  is  this  that  cometh  from  Edom,  with 
dyed  garments  from  Bozrah }  this  that  is 
glorious  in  his  apparel,  traveling  in  the  great- 
ness of  his  strength  }  I  that  speak  in  right- 
eousness, mighty  to  save.  Wherefore  art 
thou  red  in  thine  apparel,  and  thy  garments 
like  him  that  treadeth  in  the  winefat  }  I  have 
trodden  the  winepress  alone  ;  and  of  the  peo- 
ple there  was  hone  with  me :  for  I  will  tread 
them  in  mine  anger,  and  trample  them  in 
my  fury ;  and  their  blood  shall  be  sprinkled 
upon  my  garments,  and  I  will  stain  all  my 
raiment." 


452  All  glory  to  Christ. 

Glory,  glory  to  our  King! 

Crowns  unfading  wreathe  his  head  ; 
Jesus  is  the  name  we  sing — 

Jesus,  risen  from  the  dead  ; 
Jesus,  Conqueror  o'er  the  grave; 
Jesus,  mighty  now  to  save. 

2  Jesus  is  gone  up  on  high  : 
Angels  come  to  meet  their  King ; 

Shouts  triumphant  rend  the  sky, 

While  the  Victor's  praise  they  sing  : 
"  Open  now,  ye  heavenly  gates ! 
'T  is  the  King  of  glory  waits." 

3  Now  behold  him  high  enthroned. 
Glory  beaming  from  his  face. 

By  adoring  angels  owned, 
God  of  holiness  and  grace ! 


78.  61. 


Oh,  for  hearts  and  tonnes  to  sing — 
"  Glory,  glory  to  our  Kmg!" 

Once  more  we  choose  from  Rev.  Thomas 
Kelly's  Hymns  on  Various  Passages.  This 
was  published  in  1804,  and  is  founded  upon 
Psalm  47 : 5,  6 :  "  God  is  gone  up  with  a 
shout,  the  Lord  with  the  sound  of  a  trumpet. 
Sing  praises  to  God,  sing  praises  :  sing  praises 
unto  our  King,  sing  praises." 


453 


"Jesus  reigns." 


8s,  7s,  7S. 


Hark  !  ten  thousand  harps  and  voices 
Sound  the  note  of  praise  above; 

Jesus  reigns,  and  heaven  rejoices ; 
Jesus  reigns,  the  God  of  love; 

See,  he  sits  on  yonder  throne; 

Jesus  rules  the  world  alone. 

2  King  of  glory!  reign  for  ever — 
Thine  an  everlasting  crown  ; 

Nothing,  from  thy  love,  shall  sever 

Those  whom  thou  hast  made  thine  own — 
Happy  objects  of  thy  grace. 
Destined  to  behold  thy  face. 

3  Saviour!  hasten  thine  appearing ; 
Bring,  oh,  bring  the  glorious  day, 

When,  the  awful  summons  hearing. 

Heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away — 
Then,  with  golden  harps,  we  '11  sing — 
"  Glor>-,  glory  to  our  Kmg !" 

These  words,  sung  to  the  tune  "  Harwell," 
are  familiar  in  all  the  American  churches. 
Rev.  Thomas  Kelly  wrote  them  for  the  sec- 
ond edition  of  his  Hymns,  1806,  and  Lowell 
Mason  gave  us  the  music,  and  added  the 
Hallelujah  at  the  end  in  order  to  complete 
the  strain. 

454  ^e  live  in  Him.  8s,  75.  D. 

See,  the  Conqueror  mounts  in  triumph ! 

See  the  King  in  royal  state. 
Riding  on  the  clouds,  his  chariot. 

To  his  heavenly  palace  gate! 
Hark  !  the  choirs  of  angel  voices 

Joyful  hallelujahs  sing. 
And  the  portals  high  are  lifted 

To  receive  their  heavenly  King. 

2  Who  is  this  that  comes  in  glory, 
With  the  trump  of  jubilee? 

Lord  of  battles,  God  of  armies. 

He  has  gained  the  victory ; 
He,  who  on  the  cross  did  suffer. 

He,  who  from  the  ^rave  arose, 
He  has  vanquished  sm  and  Satan, 

He  by  death  has  spoiled  his  foes. 

3  Thou  hast  raised  our  human  nature. 
On  the  clouds  to  God's  right  hand ; 

There  we  sit  in  heavenly  places, 

There  with  thee  in  glor>-  stand ; 
Jesus  reigns,  adored  by  angels ; 

Man  with  God  is  on  the  throne: 
Mighty  Lord  !  in  thine  ascension 

We  by  faith  behold  our  own. 

4  Lift  us  up  from  earth  to  heaven. 
Give  us  wings  of  faith  and  love. 

Gales  of  holy  aspirations, 

Wafting  us  to  realms  above; 
That,  with  hearts  and  minds  uplifted. 

We  with  Christ  our  Lord  may  dwell, 
Where  he  sits  enthroned  in  glory. 

In  the  heavenly  citadel. 


RESURRECTION   AND   REIGN. 


205 


5  So  at  last,  when  he  appeareth, 

We  from  out  our  graves  may  spring, 
With  our  youth  renewed  Uke  eagles', 

Flocking  round  our  heavenly  King, 
Caught  up  on  the  clouds  of  heaven. 

And  may  meet  him  in  the  air — 
Rise  to  realms  where  he  is  reigning, 

And  may  reign  for  ever  there. 

Bishop  Christopher  Wordsworth  has  given 
us  this  song  in  his  Holy  Year,  1862,  but  of 
such  length  that  it  sometimes  appears  in  two 
portions.  It  is  confessedly  the  finest  and  no- 
blest of  his  compositions,  and  many  of  the 
best  critics  have  pronounced  it  the  "  nearest 
approach  in  style  and  treatment  to  a  Greek 
ode  known  to  us  in  the  English  language." 
It  rehearses  facts,  it  presents  gospel  truths,  it 
introduces  celestial  symbols,  it  swells  out 
into  an  anthem  of  intense  jubilation.  Our 
hearts  are  kindled  with  the  hopes  it  pictures 
of  our  "  youth  renewed  like  eagl^',"  of  our 
"  being  caught  up  on  the  clouds  of  heaven," 
meeting  Jesus  "  in  the  air."  Oh,  this  is  a 
good  faith  to  live  in !  A  better  faith  to  die 
in !  Somewhere  I  have  read  that  Ary  Schef- 
fer  fell  dead  at  the  foot  of  a  picture  he  was 
painting;  he  surrendered  his  breath  in  the 
very  act  of  drawing  on  the  canvas  the  rolling 
away  of  the  stone  from  the  sepulcher  of  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Surely  no  theme  of  con- 
templation could  be  more  fitting  for  one  just 
entering  the  great  New  World  ! 

455  Easter  Anthem.  8s,  7s.  D. 

Sing  with  all  the  sons  of  glory. 

Sing  the  resurrection  song! 
Death  and  sorrow,  earth's  dark  story. 

To  the  former  days  belong : 
All  around  the  clouds  are  breaking, 

Soon  the  storms  of  time  shall  cease, 
In  God's  likeness,  man,  awaking. 

Knows  the  everlasting  peace. 

2  Oh,  what  glory,  far  exceeding 
All  that  eye  has  yet  perceived  ! 

Holiest  hearts  for  ages  pleading, 

Never  that  full  joy  conceived. 
God  has  promised,  Christ  prepares  it, 

There  on  high  our  welcome  waits; 
Every  humble  spirit  shares  it, 

Christ  has  passed  the  eternal  gates. 

3  Life  eternal !  heaven  rejoices, 

I  Jesus  lives  who  once  was  dead ; 

Join,  O  man,  the  deathless  voices. 

Child  of  God,  lift  up  thy  head  ! 
Patriarchs  from  the  distant  ages. 

Saints  all  longing  for  their  heaven. 
Prophets,  psalmists,  seers  and  sages, 

All  await  the  glory  given. 

4  Life  eternal !  oh,  what  wonders 
Crowd  on  faith  ;  what  joy  unknown. 

When,  amidst  earth's  closing  thunders. 
Saints  shall  stand  before  the  throne  I 

Oh,  to  enter  that  bright  portal. 
See  that  glowing  firmament, 

Know,  with  thee,  O  God  immortal, 
"Jesus  Christ  whom  thou  hast  sent !" 

The  best  English  rendering  of  the  ''Dies 
Irce "  was  made  by  the  Rev.  William  Josiah 


Irons,  D.  D.,  the  composer  of  this  hymn.  He 
was  a  son  of  Joseph  Irons,  an  Independent 
preacher,  and  was  born  September  12,  181 2, 
at  Hoddesdon  in  Hertfordshire,  England. 
Graduating  from  Queen's  College,  Oxford,  in 
1833,  he  became  in  1835  curate  of  St.  Mary's, 
Newington,  and  vicar,  successively,  of  St. 
Peter's,  Walworth,  1837;  Barkway,  Hertford- 
shire, 1838;  Brompton,  London,  1842.  Sub- 
sequently, he  became  Prebendary  of  St.  Paul's, 
London,  and  rector  of  St.  Mary-Woolnoth. 
Throughout  his  life  Dr.  Irons  was  noted  for 
his  devotion  to  the  Church  of  England  and 
his  e.xtreme  High  Church  views.  He  began 
to  write  and  to  translate  hymns  during  his 
curacy  at  St.  Mary's,  Newington,  and  con- 
tinued it  until  his  death,  which  took  place 
June  18,  1883.  His  hymns  are  said  to  be 
especially  fine.  According  to  Julian,  their 
"  variety  of  subjects  and  meters,  intense  ear- 
nestness and  almost  faultless  rhythm,  must 
commend  them  to  the  notice  of  hymn-book 
compilers." 

456  "Lamb  of  God!"  8s,  7s.  D. 

Lamb  of  God  !  thou  now  art  seated 

High  upon  thy  Father's  throne ; 
All  thy  gracious  work  completed. 

All  thy  mighty  victory  won  : 
Every  knee  in  heaven  is  bending 

To  the  Lamb  for  sinners  slain  ; 
Every  voice  and  harp  is  swelling — 

"Worthy  is  the  Lamb  to  reign." 

2  Lord  !  in  all  thy  power  and  glory. 
Still  thy  thoughts  and  eyes  are  here. 

Watching  o'er  thy  ransomed  people, 
To  thy  gracious  heart  so  dear. 

Thou  for  us  art  interceding; 
Everlasting  is  thy  love; 

And  a  blessed  rest  preparing. 
In  our  Father's  house  above. 

3  Lamb  of  God  !  thou  sooti  in  glory- 
Wilt  to  this  sad  earth  return  ; 

All  thy  foes  shall  quake  before  thee. 
All  that  now  despise  thee  mourn  : 

Then  thy  saints  too  shall  attend  thee. 
With  thee  in  thy  kingdom  reign  : 

Thine  the  praise,  and  thine  the  glory- 
Lamb  of  God,  for  sinners  slain  ! 

Rev.  James  George  Deck  has  included  this 
in  his  Appendix  to  the  Hyiims  for  the  Poor 
of  the  Flock,  1841.  It  is  remarkable  for  the 
ease  and  gracefulness  with  which  it  connects 
the  grand  evangelical  truths  of  the  gospel 
with  the  resurrection  and  ascension  of  the 
Lord  Jesus  to  the  right  hand  of  the  throne  of 
God.  The  praises  of  the  redeemed  ones 
are  made  the  vehicle  of  a  gracious  invitation 
to  sinners ;  the  promise  of  Christ's  return  to 
the  earth  as  he  left  it  is  swiftly  led  away  into 
an  expostulation  with  those  who  continue 
unrepentant  in  view  of  such  matchless  grace. 
So  let  us  bear  in  mind  that  the  resurrection 
of  Jesus  Christ  is  more  than  a  fact ;  it  is  a 


2o6 


THE  LORD  JESUS  CHRIST. 


doctrine.  And  once  admitted,  it  will  surely 
take  all  the  other  Christian  doctrines  in  its 
train.  Just  let  me  know  that  Jesus  himself 
folded  that  napkin,  burst  those  stony  barriers 
of  the  sepulcher,  and  led  captivity  captive, 
and  then  I  know  that  the  atonement  is  per- 
fected. Man  may  find  his  way  unhindered 
in  returning  unto  God,  and  through  penitence 
and  faith  sin  may  be  checked,  Satan  con- 
quered, and  heaven  set  open  for  ever ! 

With  such  a  Gospel,  why  does  any  one 
wait }  Even  the  Turks  say  in  a  proverb, 
"  Hold  thy  mantle  wide  open  when  heaven  is 
raming  gold !"  Here  is  offered  to  our  blind 
and  helpless  race  a  full  disclosure  of  the 
future  so  longed  for  and  needed.  "  Christ 
rose,  and  I  shall  surely  rise."  Is  it  the  work 
of  wise  men  to  reject  a  hope  so  resplendent  ? 
But  that  hope,  like  the  doctrine,  does  not  go 
or  come  alone;  it  carries  a  train  after  it. 
"  If  only  in  this  life  we  have  hope  in  Christ, 
we  are  of  all  men  most  miserable."  If  only 
in  that  life  we  have  hope  in  Christ,  we  are  of 
all  men  most  mean  and  most  selfish.  It 
would  be  a  strange  thing  to  see  in  the  Fa- 
ther's house  one  who  never  served  the  Father 
here,  nor  ever  loved  his  Son  ! 


457 


REV.    ROBERT   ROBINSON. 

Christ  is  God.  8s,  7s.  D. 

Mighty  God !  while  angels  bless  thee, 

May  a  mortal  lisp  thy  name? 
Lord  of  men,  as  well  as  angels ! 

Thou  art  every  creature's  theme: 
Lord  of  every  land  and  nation ! 

Ancient  of  eternal  days ! 
Sounded  through  the  wide  creation 

Be  thy  just  and  awful  praise. 

2  For  the  grandeur  of  thy  nature — 

Grand  beyond  a  seraph's  thought ; 
For  the  wonders  of  creation, 

Works  with  skill  and  kindness  wrought; 
For  thy  providence,  that  governs 

Through  thine  empire's  wide  domain, 
Wings  an  angel,  guides  a  sparrow  ; — 

BlessSd  be  thy  gentle  reign. 


3  For  thy  rich,  thy  free  redemption, 
Bright,  though  vailed  in  darkness  long, 

Thought  is  poor,  and  poor  expression  ; 

Who  can  sing  that  wondrous  song? 
Brightness  of  the  Father's  glory! 

Shall  thy  praise  unuttered  lie? 
Break,  my  tongue!  such  guilty  silence, 

Sing  the  Lord  who  came  to  die : — 

4  From  the  highest  throne  of  glory 
To  the  cross  of  deepest  woe, 

Came  to  ransom  guilty  captives — 

Flow,  my  praise !  for  ever  flow : 
Re-ascend,  immortal  Saviour ! 

Leave  thy  footstool,  take  thy  throne; 
Thence  return  and  reign  for  ever ; — 

Be  the  kingdom  all  thine  own  ! 

It  was  doubtless  owing  to  the  prayers  of  a 
devoted  Christian  mother  that  Rev.  Robert 
Robinson  became  such  a  power  in  the  Chris- 
tian church.  He  was  born  of  poor  parents, 
at  Swaffham,  in  Norfolk,  England,  Septem- 
ber 27,  1735.  His  father  died  while  his  son 
was  a  mere  child,  and  though  it  was  his 
mother's  ferv^ent  wish  to  see  her  boy  a  clergy- 
man in  the  Church  of  England,  she  was 
forced  through  poverty  to  apprentice  him  to 
a  London  barber  in  1749.  It  was  not  a  very 
pleasant  position  for  one  who  was  fond  of 
books  and  study ;  and  the  uncongeniality  of 
his  surroundings  seems  to  have  led  him  occa- 
sionally to  indulge  in  a  wild  frolic,  by  way  of 
relief.  Once,  while  with  a  crowd  of  boys 
bent  on  mischief,  he  helped  to  make  an  old 
gypsy-woman  intoxicated,  and  persuaded  her 
to  tell  his  fortune.  She  predicted  that  he 
"  would  see  his  children  and  grandchildren," 
which  statemient  set  him  to  pondering  the 
fact  that  his  course  of  life  would  not  much 
benefit  his  prospective  household.  As  a  step 
in  the  right  direction,  he  went  at  once  to  hear 
Whitefield  preach,  and  the  sermon  was  the 
means  of  his  conversion.  He  lived  in  Lon- 
don until  1758,  and  then  began  to  preach,  or 
rather  to  exhort,  in  the  interests  of  the 
Methodists,  with  whom  he  had  connected 
himself.  After  his  marriage,  however,  he 
became  a  Baptist,  and  was  called  to  take 
charge  of  a  church  of  that  denomination  at 
Cambridge.  He  commenced  his  literary 
career  in  1770,  and  from  that  time  until  his 
death,  on  June  9,  1790,  he  wrote  e.xtensively 
on  many  theological  topics.  His  books  have 
been  eagerly  read,  and  highly  commended  by 
scholars.  The  religious  views  he  cherished 
were  far  in  advance  of  the  times,  and  his  love 
of  liberty  led  him  from  one  denomination  to 
another ;  so  that  he  was  in  turn  Episcopalian, 
Methodist,  Baptist,  and  Independent,  and  one 
biographer  declares  him  to  have  been  a  Uni- 
tarian also  ;  but  Mr.  Robinson's  sermons  do 
not  carry  out  this  assertion.  He  is  known  to 
have  written  but  two  hymns,  namely  :  "  Come, 


RESURRECTION    AND    REIGN. 


207 


thou  F(5lint  of  every  blessing,"  and  the  one 
here  quoted,  both  of  which  appeared  in  the 
Siippleme7it  to  Evans'  Collection  in  1786,  and 
both  of  which  are  acknowledged  to  be 
among  the  very  finest  in  our  English 
tongue. 


458 


"  Lo,  Jehovah  i 


8s,  7S.  D. 


Crown  his  head  with  endless  blessing. 

Who,  in  God  the  Father's  name. 
With  compassions  never  ceasing, 

Comes  salvation  to  proclaim. 
Hail,  ye  saints,  who  know  his  favor, 

Who  within  liis  gates  are  found  ; 
Hail,  ye  saints,  the  exalted  Saviour, 

Let  his  courts  with  praise  resound. 

2  Lo,  Jehovah,  we  adore  thee ; 
Thee  our  Saviour !  thee  our  God  ! 

From  his  throne  his  beams  of  glory 
Shine  through  all  the  world  abroad. 

In  his  word  his  light  arises, 
Brightest  beams  of  truth  and  grace; 

Bind,  oh,  bind  your  sacrifices, 
In  his  courts  your  offerings  place. 

3  Jesus,  thee  our  Saviour  hailing, 
Thee  our  God  in  praise  we  own  ; 

Highest  honors,  never  failing. 
Rise  eternal  round  thy  throne; 

Now,  ye  saints,  his  power  confessing, 
In  your  grateful  strains  adore ; 

For  his  mercy,  never  ceasing. 
Flows,  and  flows  for  evermore. 

Rev.  William  Bull,  who  induced  Cowper  to 
translate  the  hymns  of  Madame  Guyon,  was 
the  man  from  whom  Rev.  William  Goode, 
the  author  of  this  version  of  Psalm  118,  found 
in  his  Entire  New  Version  of  the  Book  of 
Psalms,  1811,  received  his  early  education. 
Mr.  Bull  was  a  Dissenting  minister  at  New- 
port Pagnel,  England,  and  under  his  earnest 
teaching  his  young  scholar  became  deeply 
religious.  In  1778,  however,  the  boy  began 
a  more  serious  preparation  for  college  with 
Rev.  Thomas  Clark.  He  entered  Magdalen 
Hall,  Oxford,  in  1780,  graduating  in  1784; 
was  made  deacon  in  1786,  and  subsequently 
became  curate  of  Abbotts  Langley,  Herts; 
then  of  St.  Ann's,  Blackfriars,  and  finally  rec- 
tor of  the  latter.  Besides  his  parish  work, 
he  found  time  to  perform  the  duties  of  secre- 
tary to  several  benevolent  societies,  and  held 
also  the  lectureships  of  St.  Lawrence  and  St. 
John. 

He  was  born  at  Buckingham,  England, 
April  2,  1762;  he  died,  April  15,  1816. 


459  "Hosanna!" 

HosANNA  to  the  living  Lord  ! 
Hosanna  to  the  incarnate  Word  ! 
To  Christ,  Creator,  Saviour,  King, 
Let  earth,  let  heaven,  Hosanna  sing. 

2  Hosanna,  Lord!  thine  angels  cry ; 
Hosanna,  Lord  !  thy  saints  reply ; 
Above,  beneath  us,  and  around. 
The  dead  and  living  swell  the  sound. 


L.  M. 


3  O  Saviour,  with  protecting  care, 
Return  to  this  thy  house  of  prayer: 
Assembled  in  thy  sacred  name. 
Where  we  thy  parting  promise  claim. 

4  But,  chiefest,  in  our  cleansed  breast, 
Eternal .  bid  thy  Spirit  rest ; 

And  make  our  secret  soul  to  be 
A  temple  pure,  and  worthy  thee. 

5  So  in  the  last  and  dreadful  day, 
When  earth  and  heaven  shall  melt  away. 
Thy  flock,  redeemed  from  sinful  stain,    ' 
Shall  swell  the  sound  of  praise  again. 

After  his  decease,  the  pieces  which  Bishop 
Reginald  Heber  had  designed  for  a  series  of 
hymns,  the  arrangement  of  which  should  fol- 
low on  in  the  course  of  the  commemorations 
of  the  Christian  Year,  were  issued  in  a  vol- 
ume. This  hymn  was  first  published  in  the 
Christian  Observer,  October,  1811;  then  it 
was  added  to  the  collection  of  1827,  when,  as 
belonging  to  the  history  of  Our  Lord,  it  was 
assigned  to  the  First  Sunday  in  Advent.  It 
fitly  notices  the  Hosannas  in  the  Temple. 

460  Christ  IS  God.  L.  M. 

What  equal  honors  shall  we  bring. 
To  thee,  O  Lord  our  God,  the  Lamb, 

When  all  the  notes  that  angels  sing 
Are  far  inferior  to  thy  name? 

2  Worthy  is  he  that  once  was  slain. 

The  Prince  of  Peace  that  groaned  and  died. 
Worthy  to  rise,  and  live,  and  reign 
At  his  almighty  Father's  side. 

3  Honor  immortal  must  be  paid. 
Instead  of  scandal  and  of  scorn  ; 

While  glory  shines  around  his  head, 
And  a  bright  crown  without  a  thorn. 

4  Blessings  for  ever  on  the  Lamb 

Who  bore  the  curse  for  wretched  men ; 
Let  angels  sound  his  sacred  name, 
And  every  creature  say,  Amen. 

This  is  found  in  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  Hymns, 
Book  I.,  No.  63.  It  has  six  stanzas,  of  which 
the  four  above  quoted  are  the  best ;  it  is  en- 
titled, "  Christ's  Humiliation  and  Exaltation ;" 
and  it  has  the  reference  annexed,  Revelation 
5:12. 

46 1  Our  Resurrection.  L.  M. 

O  Christ,  who  hast  prepared  a  place 
For  us  around  thy  throne  of  grace, 
We  pray  thee,  lift  our  hearts  above. 
And  draw  them  with  the  cords  of  love! 

2  Source  of  all  good,  thou,  gracious  Lord, 
Art  our  exceednig  great  reward  : 

How  transient  is  our  present  pain  ! 
How  boundless  our  eternal  gain  ! 

3  With  open  face  and  joyful  heart 
We  then  shall  see  thee  as  thou  art ; 
Our  love  shall  never  cease  to  glow. 
Our  praise  shall  never  cease  to  flow. 

4  Thy  never-failing  grace  to  prove, 
A  surety  of  thine  endless  love. 
Send  down  thy  Holy  Ghost  to  be 
The  raiser  of  our  souls  to  thee. 


2o8 


THE   LORD   JESUS   CHRIST. 


5  Oh,  future  Judge,  eternal  Lord, 
Thy  name  be  hallowed  and  adored  : 
To  God  the  Father,  King  of  heaven. 
And  Holy  Ghost,  like  praise  be  given. 

The  Latin  hymn,  of  which  this  is  a  render- 
ing, "■Nobis  Olympo  reddtius," \va.s  composed 
in  the  seventeenth  century  by  Jean  Baptiste 
de  Santeiiil,  better  known  as  SantoHus  Vic- 
torinus.  He  was  born  May  12,  1630,  and 
died  August  5,  1697.  His  reputation  was 
that  of  an  excellent  scholar,  a  devout  man, 
and  a  meritorious  poet.  The  Latin  text  of 
the  piece  may  be  found  in  the  Part's  Brevia- 
ry. The  translation  into  English,  which  here 
forms  our  hymn,  was  made  by  Rev.  John 
Chandler,  and  published  in  1837.  There  is 
an  allusion  in  the  whole  sentiment  to  the 
words  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  "  I  go  to  prepare  a 
place  for  you,"  John  14:2. 

462  "  Lord  0/ heaven."  L.  M. 

O  Christ,  the  Lord  of  heaven  !  to  thee. 

Clothed  with  all  majesty  divine. 
Eternal  power  and  glor>-  be ! 

Eternal  praise,  of  right,  is  thine. 

2  Reign,  Prince  of  life  !  that  once  thy  brow 
Didst  yield  to  wear  the  wounding  thorn ; 

Reign,  throned  beside  the  Father  now, 
Adored  the  Son  of  God  first-born. 

3  From  angel  hosts  that  round  thee  stand. 
With  forms  more  pure  than  spotless  snow, 

From  the  bright  burning  seraph  band. 
Let  praise  \n  loftiest  numbers  flow. 

4  To  thee,  the  Lamb,  our  mortal  songs. 
Born  of  deep  fervent  love,  shall  rise ; 

All  honor  to  thy  name  belongs, 
Our  lips  would  sound  it  to  the  skies. 

5  "Jesus  !" — all  earth  shall  speak  the  word  ; 
"Jesus  !" — all  heaven  resound  it  still ; 

Immanuel,  Saviour,  Conqueror,  Lord  ! 
Thy  praise  the  universe  shall  fill 

Dr.  Ray  Palmer  is  reported  to  have  said  of 
this  hymn  that  it  "  satisfied  "  him  better  than 
any  other  of  those  he  composed.  It  was  writ- 
ten in  New  York  City,  1867,  suggested  by  the 
name  applied  to  Jesus  in  Revelation  19:  16, 
"  King  of  kings,  and  Lord  of  lords."  He  pub- 
lished it  first  in  his  Hymns  of  my  Holy  Hours, 
issued  that  same  year.  It  was  no  affectation 
on  the  part  of  Dr.  Palmer  to  use  such  language 
as  he  does  here  concerning  his  songs,  "  born 
of  deep,  fervent  love."  He  had  always  the 
most  vivid  sense  of  his  Lord's  nearness  to  the 
believer.  It  was  like  a  dear  presence  to  his 
own  soul.  We  all  understand  that  there  is 
such  a  thing  as  beauty  of  investiture.  That 
is,  we  are  accustomed  to  love  them  to  whom 
we  give  our  whole  willing  hearts  and  on  whom 
we  bestow  the  caresses  of  our  purest  affec- 
tion, quite  often  more  for  the  excellences  with 
which  we  invest  them  than  for  those  they  ex- 
hibit in  shape,  form,  or  fact.  We  love  our 
homes  for  something  far  worthier  than  their 


architecture.  We  move  in  a  world  of  ideals. 
We  fondly  accredit  to  one  who  is  kind  to  us 
everything  that  is  included  in  gratitude  and 
reverence,  and  we  picture  him  as  positively 
perfect.  Just  so  a  spiritual  Christian  loves 
Christ ;  he  is  positively  perfect,  and  so  our 
entire  being  goes  out  towards  him.  "  L^nto 
you  which  believe  he  is  precious." 

463  Our  High  Priest.  L.  M. 

Before  the  throne  of  God  above 
I  have  a  strong,  a  perfect  plea — 

A  great  High  Priest,  whose  name  is  Love, 
Who  ever  lives  and  pleads  for  me. 

2  My  name  is  graven  on  his  hands, 
My  name  is  written  on  his  heart ; 

I  know  that  while  in  heaven  he  stands, 
No  tongue  can  bid  me  thence  depart. 

3  When  Satan  tempts  me  to  despair. 
And  tells  me  of  the  guilt  within. 

Upward  I  look,  and  see  him  there 
Who  made  an  end  of  all  my  sin. 

4  Because  the  sinless  Saviour  died, 
My  sinful  soul  is  counted  free ; 

For  God.  the  Just,  is  satisfied 
To  look  on  him,  and  pardon  me. 

5  One  with  himself,  I  cannot  die. 
My  soul  is  purchased  by  his  blood ; 

My  life  is  hid  with  Christ  on  high. 
With  Christ,  my  Saviour  and  my  God. 

It  is  when  we  sing  such  hymns  as  this  that 
the  thought  comes  to  us  again  of  our  indebt- 
edness to  our  Mediator,  for  he  not  only  car- 
ries the  weight  of  our  guilt,  taking  it  upon 
his  own  sinless  soul,  but  he  offers  his  suffer- 
ing to  atone  for  it.  He  unites  men  with  God. 
"  A  mediator  is  not  a  mediator  of  one."  Our 
names  are  "  written  on  his  heart "  and  "  graven 
on  his  hands."  What  a  power  of  meaning  is 
condensed,  then,  into  the  words — "  even  as 
Qo6.,for  Christ's  sake,  hath  forgiven  you."  It 
is  this  thought  that  Mrs.  Charitie  Lees  Ban- 
croft has  brought  out  in  the  hymn  quoted. 
She  was  the  daughter  of  Rev.  Sidney  Smith, 
an  Episcopalian  clergy-man,  and  was  born  at 
Bloomfield,  Merrion,  County  Dublin,  Ireland, 
June  21,  1 841.  In  1869  she  married  Arthur 
E.  Bancroft.  Her  hymns  are  well  known  both 
in  England  and  Ireland,  and  are  to  be  found 
in  Lyra  Sacra  Hibernica,  Kyle's  Spiritual 
Songs,  Lyra  Britannica,  and  Times  of  Re- 
freshing. 

404  The  atoning  Priest.  L.  M. 

Now  to  the  Lord,  who  makes  us  know 

The  wonders  of  his  dying  love. 
Be  humble  honors  paid  below. 

And  strains  of  nobler  praise  above. 

2  'T  was  he  who  cleansed  our  foulest  sins. 
And  washed  us  in  his  precious  blood  ; 

'T  is  he  who  makes  us  priests  and  kings. 
And  brings  us  rebels  near  to  God. 

3  To  Jesus,  our  atoning  Priest, 
To  Jesus,  our  eternal  King, 

Be  everlasting  power  confessed  ! 
Let  every  tongue  his  glory  sing. 


RESURRECTION   AND   REIGN. 


209 


4  Behold  !  on  flying  clouds  he  comes, 
And  every  eye  shall  see  him  move; 

Though  with  our  sins  we  pierced  him  once, 
He  now  displays  his  pardoning  love. 

5  The  unbelieving  world  shall  wail, 
While  we  rejoice  to  see  the  day  ; 

Come,  Lord  !  nor  let  thy  promise  fail, 
Nor  let  thy  chariot  long  delay. 

Dr.  Isaac  Watts  has  made  this  his  No.  61 
of  Book  I.,  in  "his  Hymns.  He  composed  it  to 
follow  a  sermon  on  Revelation  i  :  5-7,  and  gave 
it  the  double  title :  "  Christ  our  High  Priest 
a  id  King,  and  Christ  Coming  to  Judgment." 

4.35  "  The  Song  of  Songs."  L.  M. 

Come,  let  us  sing  the  song  of  songs — 
The  saints  in  heaven  began  the  strain— 

The  homage  which  to  Christ  belongs  : 
"  Worthy  the  Lamb,  for  he  was  slain  !" 

2  Slain  to  redeem  us  by  his  blood. 
To  cleanse  from  every  sinful  stain. 

And  make  us  kings  and  priests  to  God — 
"  Worthy  the  Lamb,  for  he  was  slain  !" 

3  To  him,  enthroned  by  filial  right. 

All  power  in  heaven  and  earth  proclaim, 
Honor,  and  majesty,  and  might : 
"Worthy  the  Lamb,  for  he  was  slain  !" 

4  Long  as  we  live,  and  when  we  die. 
And  while  in  heaven  w-ith  him  we  reign : 

This  song  our  song  of  songs  shall  be; 
"  Worthy  the  Lamb,  for  he  was  slain  !" 

This  may  be  found  in  James  Montgomery's 
Original  Hymns,  1853.  It  takes  the  title, 
"  The  Song  of  Songs,"  and  has  seven  stanzas. 
Its  theme  is  the  gospel  of  substitution  that  is 
offered  for  the  redemption  of  men.  Jesus 
Christ,  as  a  redeemer  and  surety,  comes  and 
assumes  the  sinner's  exposures  and  liabilities. 

This  is  the  picture  so  often  presented  by 
the  apostle  Paul  in  more  than  one  of  his  re- 
markable chapters;  he  appears  never  to  be 
tired  of  it.  Vividly  seeming  to  see  the  cruci- 
fixion scene,  that  in  which  Jesus  on  the  cross 
is  the  central  figure,  he  explains  its  mystery  by 
declaring  that  this  perfectly  holy  Being  was 
suffering  not  for  any  sins  of  his  own,  but  for 
the  sins  of  another.  Jesus  was  making  an 
atonement  for  men.  Hence  a  substitution 
was  effected  for  all  that  would  accept  him  by 
faith.  It  is  the  mere  plainness  of  this  action 
which  renders  Paul's  language  so  dramatic 
and  picturesque.  He  can  behold  nothing 
more  nor  less  than  a  Redeemer  bearing  men's 
guilt,  and  giving  them  his  merit.  So  his  de- 
scriptions swell  with  strong  feeling  and  fairly 
tremble  with  grateful  acknowledgment.  "  For 
when  we  were  yet  without  strength,  in  due 
time  Christ  died  for  the  ungodly.  For  scarcely 
for  a  righteous  man  will  one  die  :  yet  perad- 
venture  for  a  good  man  some  would  even  dare 
to  die.  But  God  commendeth  his  love  toward 
us,  in  that,  while  we  were  yet  sinners,  Christ 
died  for  us." 


Higher  than  this  it  does  not  seem  possible 
for  even  an  inspired  preacher  to  go.  But  Paul 
does  go  one  step  higher.  He  grows  more 
and  more  earnest  as  he  continues  to  exhort 
his  dear  friends  in  Philippi,  more  and  more 
fervid  with  each  reiteration  of  his  words  of 
counsel.  And  now  at  last,  as  if  he  well  un- 
derstood the  inveteracy  of  their  besetting  sin, 
he  suddenly  makes  a  new  appeal  of  tremen- 
dous power,  grounding  the  stress  of  it  upon 
the  very  essence  of  their  piety,  springing  out 
before  them  the  example  of  their  Master  him- 
self, and  challenging  their  instant  admiration 
and  imitation :  "  Let  this  mind  be  in  you, 
which  was  also  in  Christ  Jesus :  who,  being 
in  the  form  of  God,  thought  it  not  robbery  to 
be  equal  with  God ;  but  made  himself  of  no 
reputation,  and  took  upon  him  the  form  of  a 
servant,  and  was  made  in  the  likeness  of  men  : 
and  being  found  in  fashion  as  a  man,  he 
humbled  himself,  and  became  obedient  unto 
death,  even  the  death  of  the  cross.  Where- 
fore God  also  hath  highly  exalted  him,  and 
given  him  a  name  which  is  above  every  name  : 
that  at  the  name  of  Jesus  every  knee  should 
bow,  of  things  in  heaven,  and  things  in  earth, 
and  things  under  the  earth ;  and  that  every 
tongue  should  confess  that  Jesus  Christ  is 
Lord,  to  the  glory  of  God  the  Father." 

46@  "King,  Creator,  Lord."  L.  M. 

O  Christ  !  our  King,  Creator,  Lord  ! 
Saviour  of  all  who  trust  thy  word  ! 
To  them  who  seek  thee  ever  near, 
Now  to  our  praises  bend  thine  ear. 

2  In  thy  dear  cross  a  grace  is  found — 
It  flows  from  every  streaming  wound — 
Whose  power  our  inbred  sin  controls. 
Breaks  the  firm  bond,  and  frees  our  souls. 

3  Thou  didst  create  the  stars  of  night ; 
Yet  thou  hast  vailed  in  flesh  thy  light, 
Hast  deigned  a  mortal  form  to  wear, 
A  mortal's  painful  lot  to  bear. 

4  When  thou  didst  hang  upon  the  tree, 
The  quaking  earth  acknowledged  thee ; 
When  thou  didst  there  yield  up  thy  breath. 
The  world  grew  dark  as  shades  of  death. 

5  Now  in  the  Father's  glory  high, 
Great  Conqueror!  never  more  to  die, 
Us  by  thy  mighty  power  defend. 
And  reign  through  ages  without  end. 

Dr.  Ray  Palmer  gave  to  the  Sabbath 
Hvmn-Book  in  1858  four  translations  of  emi- 
nent merit,  adding  so  much  to  the  highest 
spiritual  wealth  of  the  churches.  Of  these, 
that  here  offered  was  one.  It  is  a  close  and 
beautiful  rendering  from  the  ancient  hymn  of 
Gregory  the  Great,  Rex  Christe,  Factor  om- 
nium. This  man  was  born  in  A.  D.  541  at 
Rome,  became  a  Bishop  in  that  great  center 
and  capital  of  imperial  influence,  and  in  590 
was  chosen  and  installed  as  Pope.     He  was 

14 


2IO 


THE   LORD  JESUS   CHRIST. 


a  patron  of  letters  and  of  art ;  sent  missions  ; 
circulated  the  Scriptures ;  loved  music,  and 
made  chants :  rather  a  harmless  pontiff  for 
those  times,  till  the  patriarch  of  Constantino- 
ple claimed  to  be  Universal  Bishop ;  this 
made  Gregory  jealous  and  roused  his  tem- 
per. His  language  was  peremptory  ;  he  called 
such  a  thing  "  proud,  heretical,  blasphemous, 
antichristian,  and  diabolical;"  which  is  very 
like  what  most  of  us  think  of  the  Pope  of 
Rome  now,  who  claims  the  same  title ;  and 
we  ought  to  be  grateful  to  know  that  such 
objurgations  are  canonical,  for  Popes  are  re- 
puted to  be  infallible  in  their  official  utter- 
ances. 


467 


Psalm  24. 


L.  M.  D. 


Our  Lord  is  risen  from  the  dead. 

Our  Jesus  is  gone  up  on  high  : 
The  powers  of  hell  are  captive  led. 

Dragged  to  the  portals  of  the  sky. 
There  his  triumphal  chariot  waits. 

And  angels  chant  the  solemn  lay : 
"  Lift  up  your  heads,  ye  heavenly  gates  I 

Ye  everlasting  doors !  give  way." 

2  Loose  all  your  bars  of  massy  light. 
And  wide  unfold  the  ethereal  scene ! 

He  claims  these  mansions  as  his  right ; 

Receive  the  King  of  glory  in. 
Who  is  this  King  of  glor>- — who  ! 

The  Lord  who  all  our  foes  o'ercame; 
Who  sin,  and  death,  and  hell  o'erthrew! 

And  Jesus  is  the  conqueror's  name. 

3  Lo!  his  triumphal  chariot  waits, 
And  angels  chant  the  solemn  lay — 

"  Lift  up  your  heads,  ye  heavenly  gates ! 

Ye  everlasting  doors  !  give  way." 
Who  is  this  King  of  glorj- — who  ? 

The  Lord  of  boundless  power  possessed : 
The  King  of  saints  and  angels,  too, 

God  over  all,  for  ever  blessed. 

One  of  the  finest  and  noblest  of  all  Rev. 
Charles  Wesley's  versions  from  the  Psalter. 
It  is  found  in  A  Collection  of  Psalms  and 
Hymns,  1743.  The  rendering  is  beautifully 
rhythmical,  and  yet  so  close  to  the  prose  of 
our  Bible  that  it  seems  almost  a  transcription 
of  some  of  the  phrases. 


468 


Sending  the  Spirit. 


L.  M.  D. 


We  are  not  left  to  walk  alone. 
The  Spirit  of  our  God  hath  come. 
For  ever  with  us  to  abide, 
Our  Teacher,  Comforter,  and  Guide; 
Thus,  with  his  gracious  presence  blest. 
We  press  on  toward  our  heavenlv  rest ; 
Hasting  the  dreary  desert  through, 
With  our  eternal  home  in  view. 

2  Jesus,  the  Father's  onlv  Son, 
Jesus,  his  own  belov6d  One, 
Jesus,  now  seated  at  his  side, 

Hath  claimed  us  for  his  own,  his  bride. 
Of  him  and  his  the  Spirit  tells. 
Upon  his  love  he  sweetly  dwells ; 
And  while  we  listen  to  his  voice. 
We  wonder,  worship,  and  rejoice. 

3  He  teaches  us  the  Father's  grace, 
Reveals  to  us  the  Saviour's  face. 
And  doth  to  all  our  hearts  declare 
The  glory  it  is  ours  to  share. 


Our  every  sorrow  be  forgot. 
The  joys  of  earth  be  heeded  not ; 
The  Comforter  is  come,  and  we 
Shall  soon  with  our  Beloved  be. 

When  we  learn  that  the  lady  who  wTOte 
this  hymn  was  the  sister  of  Rev.  James  George 
Deck,  to  whom  we  are  indebted  for  a  number 
of  our  best  songs  of  praise,  we  realize  that  the 
spirit  of  poetry  did  not  reside  entirely  in  one 
member  of  the  family.  Mrs.  Mary  Jane  Walk- 
er is  the  daughter  of  John  Deck,  Esq.,  of  Bury 
St.  Edmunds,  England ;  she  was  married  in 
1848  to  Rev.  Dr.  Edward  Walker,  rector  of 
Cheltenham.  A  few  of  her  poems  were  is- 
sued as  leaflets,  but  most  of  them  were  con- 
tributed to  Psalms  and  Hymns  for  Public  and 
Social  Worship,  1855,  ^  collection  of  lyrics 
which  was  compiled  by  her  husband.  It  is 
evident  that  the  sentiment  of  this  hymn  was 
suggested  by  the  promise  of  our  Lord  in  John 
16 :6,  7  :  "  Because  I  have  said  these  things 
unto  you,  sorrow  hath  filled  your  heart. 
Nevertheless  I  tell  you  the  truth  ;  it  is  expedi- 
ent for  you  that  I  go  away :  for  if  I  go  not 
away,  the  Comforter  will  not  come  unto  you ; 
but  if  I  depart,  I  will  send  him  unto  you." 

469  "  Crowned  ivith  Honor."  CM. 

The  head  that  once  was  crowned  with  thorns 

Is  crowned  with  glory  now  ; 
A  royal  diadem  adorns 

The  mighty  Victor's  brow. 

2  The  highest  place  that  heaven  affords 
Is  his  by  sovereign  right ; 

The  King  of  kings,  and  Lord  of  lords, 
He  reigns  in  glory  bright ; — 

3  The  joy  of  all  who  dwell  above, 
The  joy  of  all  below, 

To  whom  he  manifests  his  love, 
And  grants  his  name  to  know. 

4  To  them  the  cross  with  all  its  shame, 
With  all  its  grace,  is  given  ; 

Their  name — an  everlasting  name. 
Their  joy — the  joy  of  heaven. 

Found  in  Rev.  Thomas  Kelly's  Hymns  on 
Various  Passages  of  Scripture,  1820.  It 
is  entitled,  "  Perfect  through  Sufferings :" 
Hebrews  2  :  10.  The  point  of  the  thought 
expressed  in  these  five  stanzas  is  this:  Be 
patient  in  all  your  trials ;  remember  that  life 
is  short  and  heaven  is  close  at  hand ;  Jesiis 
suffered,  and  now  reigns.  The  reach  of  this 
exhortation  transcends  all  analysis.  We 
should  lose  the  vast  force  of  it  by  picking  it 
to  pieces  for  details  of  doctrine.  Be  like 
Christ :  he  was  God  ;  he  became  man  ;  could 
any  one  ever  have  been  more  worthily  exalt- 
ed ?  could  any  one  ever  have  been  more 
deeply  humiliated?  so  he  received  his  rec- 
ompense of  reward. 

Just  as  some  orator,  skilfully  addressing  a 
company  of  soldiers  on  the  eve  of  battle,  be- 


EXALTATION    AND   OFFICES. 


211 


gins  with  an  admonition  and  ends  with  a  pic- 
ture ;  just  as  he  would  appeal  to  their  man- 
hood, their  consistency,  their  honor,  and  their 
courage,  as  he  would  play  upon  their  fear  of 
disgrace  and  their  contempt  of  poltroonery  ; 
just  as  he  would  follow  up  each  motive  with 
another  and  a  more  elevated  one,  until,  at  the 
last,  he  would  invoke  their  patriotism  and 
their  love  for  their  leader,  alike  and  together, 
by  unfurling  the  national  ensign  and  showing 
them  how  he  had  caused  to  be  painted  across 
the  folds  the  likeness  of  the  face  they  knew  ; 
so  here  the  apostle  seeks  to  arouse  Christian 
enthusiasm  by  quickly  exhibiting  the  very 
image  of  the  Captain  of  our  salvation,  and 
bidding  us  follow  him  alone. 

470  ''Worthy  the  Lamb:'  CM. 

Come,  let  us  join  our  cheerful  songs 

With  angels  round  the  throne ; 
Ten  thousand  thousand  are  their  tongues, 

But  all  their  joys  are  one. 

2  "Worthy  the  Lamb  that  died,"  they  cry, 
"  To  be  exalted  thus!" 

"  Worthy  the  Lamb !"  our  lips  reply, 
"  For  he  was  slain  for  us." 

3  Jesus  is  worthy  to  receive 
Honor  and  power  divine ; 

And  blessings  more  than  we  can  give. 
Be,  Lord,  for  ever  thine ! 

4  Let  all  that  dwell  above  the  sky, 
And  air,  and  earth,  and  seas, 

Conspire  to  lift  thy  glories  high, 
And  speak  thine  endless  praise. 

5  The  whole  creation  join  in  one 
To  bless  the  sacred  name 

Of  him  who  sits  upon  the  throne. 
And  to  adore  the  Lamb  ! 

This  hymn  by  Dr.  Isaac  Watts  was  written 
in  1709,  and  bore  the  title  "Jesus  Christ,  the 
Lamb  of  God  worshiped  by  all  the  Creation." 
It  is  No.  62  of  Book  I.  Not  only  from  the 
tongues  of  angels  should  songs  of  praise 
ascend  to  God  ;  mankind  has  the  same  duty, 
and  even  the  brute  creation  shares  in  the  uni- 
versal chorus  of  love  and  gratitude  towards 
its  Maker. 

On  Corpus  Christ i  day  the  poor  Indians  of 
Paraguay  used  to  raise  triumphal  arches  of 
the  most  beautiful  flowers  and  fruits,  in  the 
adorning  of  which  they  took  the  greatest  de- 
light, sometimes  contriving  means  to  draw 
wild  and  savage  nature  into  the  sphere  of 
homage,  so  that  leopards  and  lions  would  be 
seen  ranged  on  each  side  of  the  procession- 
way,  while  birds  of  the  most  exquisite  plu- 
mage would  appear  flying  from  branch  to 
branch,  displaying  their  variegated  wings ; 
thus  they  showed  how  they  desired  to  have 
all  creation  united  in  praising  Jehovah. 


471  "  Lord  0/ all."  CM. 

All  hail  the  power  of  Jesus'  name! 

Let  angels  prostrate  fall ; 
Bring  forth  the  royal  diadem. 

And  crown  him  Lord  of  all. 

2  Crown  him,  ye  martyrs  of  our  God, 
Who  from  his  altar  call : 

Extol  the  stem  of  Jesse's  rod. 
And  crown  him  Lord  of  all. 

3  Ye  chosen  seed  of  Israel's  race, 
Ye  ransomed  from  the  fall ; 

Hail  him,  who  saves  you  by  his  grace, 
And  crown  him  Lord  of  all. 

4  Sinners,  whose  love  can  ne'er  forget 
The  wormwood  and  the  gall. 

Go,  spread  your  trophies  at  his  feet. 
And  crown  him  Lord  of  all, 

5  Let  every  kindred,  every  tribe, 
On  this  terrestrial  ball, 

To  him  all  majesty  ascribe, 
And  crown  him  Lord  of  all. 

6  Oh,  that  with  yonder  sacred  throng 
We  at  his  feet  may  fall ; 

We  '11  join  the  everlasting  song. 
And  crown  him  Lord  of  all. 

When  this  remarkable  composition  was 
offered  to  the  Christian  public,  it  was  refused 
a  place  in  the  Methodist  collection.  The 
Wesleys  at  that  time  had  a  singular  antipathy 
against  the  author,  in  common  with  the  cler- 
gy of  the  Established  Church.  They  believed 
the  Establishment  to  be  Laodicean,  filled 
with  worldliness  and  formality.  Dr.  Belcher 
relates  this  incident : 

"  Mr.  Wesley  had  long  been  desirous  of 
hearing  Edward  Perronet  preach ;  and  Mr. 
Perronet,  aware  of  it,  was  as  resolutely  de- 
termined he  should  not,  and  therefore  studied 
to  avoid  every  occasion  that  would  lead  to  it. 
Mr.  Wesley  was  preaching  in  London  one 
evening,  and,  seeing  Mr.  Perronet  in  the  chap- 
el, published,  without  asking  his  consent,  that 
he  would  preach  there  the  next  morning  at 
five  o'clock.  Mr.  Perronet  had  too  much 
respect  for  the  congregation  to  disturb  their 
peace  by  a  public  remonstrance,  and  too 
much  regard  for  Mr.  Wesley  entirely  to  resist 
his  bidding.  The  night  passed  over.  Mr. 
Perronet  ascended  the  pulpit  under  the  im- 
pression that  Mr.  Wesley  would  be  secreted 
in  some  corner  of  the  chapel,  if  he  did  not 
show  himself  publicly,  and,  after  singing  and 
prayer,  informed  the  congregation  that  he 
appeared  before  them  contrary  to  his  own 
wish ;  that  he  had  never  been  once  asked, 
much  less  his  consent  gained,  to  preach ;  that 
he  had  done  violence  to  his  feelings  to  show 
his  respect  for  Mr.  Wesley  ;  and.  now  that  he 
had  been  compelled  to  occupy  the  place  in 
which  he  stood,  weak  and  inadequate  as  he 
was  for  the  work  assigned  him,  he  would 
pledge  himself  to  furnish  them  with  the  best 


212 


THE   LORD  JESUS   CHRIST. 


sermon  that  had  ever  been  delivered.  Open- 
ing the  Bible,  he  proceeded  to  read  our  Lord's 
Sermon  on  the  Mount,  which  he  concluded 
without  a  single  word  of  his  own  by  way  of 
note  or  comment.  He  closed  the  service 
with  singing  and  prayer.  No  imitator  has 
been  able  to  produce  equal  effect." 

Concerning  the  author  of  this  now  famous 
hymn,  almost  nothing  can  be  told.  He  print- 
ed it  in  a  rare  volume  entitled  :  Occasional 
Verses,  Moral  a  fid  Sacred,  Published  for  the 
Instruction  and  Amusement  of  the  Candidly 
Serious  and  Religious.  London,  1785.  It 
is  said  that  there  is  a  copy  of  this  in  the  Brit- 
ish Museum,  and  another  in  the  Library  of 
the  Drew  Seminary,  Madison,  N.  J.  Rev. 
Edward  Perronet,  born  in  1726,  was  the  son 
of  Rev.  Vincent  Perronet,  who  was  the  vicar 
of  Shoreham,  in  Kent,  England.  He  became 
very  intimate  with  the  Wesleys.  At  one  time 
he  had  a  charge  in  Lady  Huntingdon's  con- 
nection. He  drifted  among  the  denomina- 
tions until  at  last  he  ended  his  days  in  Can- 
terbury, January  2,  1792,  as  the  minister  of  a 
Dissenting  congregation.  His  last  words 
were :  "  Glory  to  God  in  the  height  of  his 
divinity  I  Glory  to  God  in  the  depth  of  his 
humanity  !  Glory  to  God  in  his  all-sufficien- 
cy !  And  into  his  hands  I  commend  my 
spirit !" 

472  Children's  Hosannas.  C.  M.  D. 

HosANNA ;  raise  the  pealing  hymn 

To  David's  Son  and  Lord  ; 
With  cherubim  and  seraphim 

Exalt  the  incarnate  Word. 
Hosanna !  Lord,  our  feeble  tongue 

No  lofty  strains  can  raise ; 
But  thou  wilt  not  despise  the  young, 

Who  meekly  chant  thy  praise. 

2  Hosanna !  Sovereig^n,  Prophet,  Priest ; 
How  vast  thy  gifts,  how  free! 

Thy  blood,  our  life;  thy  word,  our  feast ; 

Thy  name,  our  only  plea. 
Hosanna  !  Master,  lo,  we  bring 

Our  offerings  to  thy  throne ; 
Nor  gold,  nor  myrrh,  nor  mortal  thing. 

But  hearts  to  be  thine  own. 

3  Hosanna !  once  thy  gracious  ear 
Approved  a  lisping  throng; 

Be  gracious  still,  and  deign  to  hear 

Our  poor  but  grateful  song. 
O  Saviour,  if,  redeemed  by  thee, 

Thy  temple  we  behold, 
Hosannas  through  eternity 

We  '11  sing  to  harps  of  gold ! 

This  author,  Rev.  William  Henry  Haver- 
gal,  was  the  father  of  Miss  Frances  Ridley 
Havergal.  He  wrote  more  than  a  hundred 
hymns,  most  of  which  were  issued  in  the 
Diocesan  Hyvtn  Book,  Worcester,  1 849,  which 
he  edited.  Some  had  a  real  and  w^orthy  pop- 
ularity, being  published  on  leaflets  for  wide 
circulation.     But  only  a  few  have  found  their 


way  into  American  hymnals.  The  hymn  be- 
fore us  was  written  in  1 833,  and  was  copied 
for  Lyra  Britannica  by  the  author.  It  was 
suggested  by  the  song  of  the  children  in  the 
temple,  Matthew  21  :i5,  16. 

473  "  The  Seamless  Robe."  C.  M.  D. 

Awake,  my  heart,  arise,  my  tongue, 

Prepare  a  tuneful  voice ; 
In  God,  the  life  of  all  my  joys. 

Aloud  will  I  rejoice. 
'T  is  he  adorned  my  naked  soul. 

And  made  salvation  mine; 
Upon  a  poor,  polluted  worm 

He  makes  his  graces  shine. 

2  And  lest  the  shadow  of  a  spot 
Should  on  my  soul  be  found. 

He  took  the  robe  the  Saviour  wrought, 

And  cast  it  all  around. 
How  far  the  heavenly  robe  exceeds 

What  earthly  princes  wear ! 
These  ornaments,  how  bright  they  shine! 

How  white  the  garments  are! 

3  The  Spirit  wrought  my  faith  and  love, 
And  hope  and  every  grace ; 

But  Jesus  spent  his  life  to  work 

The  robe  of  righteousness. 
Strangely,  my  soul,  art  thou  arrayed 

By  the  great  sacred  Three ; 
In  sweetest  harmony  of  praise 

Let  all  thy  powers  agree. 

In  his  Hymns,  1707,  Dr.  Isaac  Watts  has 
included  this  as  No.  20  of  Book  I.  It  was 
WTitten  to  be  sung  after  a  sermon  upon 
Isaiah  61  :  10.  He  entitled  it  "  Spiritual  Ap- 
parel ;  namely,  the  Robe  of  Righteousness, 
and  Garments  of  Salvation."  An  exquisite 
illustration  of  the  sentiment  made  prominent 
in  this  song  of  praise  has  been  given  in  the 
first  five  verses  of  Zechariah  3 :  "And  he 
showed  me  Joshua  the  high  priest  standing 
before  the  angel  of  the  Lord,  and  Satan 
standing  at  his  right  hand  to  resist  him. 
And  the  Lord  said  unto  Satan,  The  Lord 
rebuke  thee,  O  Satan ;  even  the  Lord  that 
hath  chosen  Jerusalem  rebuke  thee :  is  not 
this  a  brand  plucked  out  of  the  fire  ?  Now 
Joshua  was  clothed  with  filthy  garments,  and 
stood  before  the  angel.  And  he  answered 
and  spake  unto  those  that  stood  before  him, 
saying,  Take  away  the  filthy  garments  from 
him.  And  unto  him  he  said.  Behold  I  have 
caused  thine  iniquity  to  pass  from  thee,  and 
I  will  clothe  thee  with  change  of  raiment. 
And  I  said.  Let  them  set  a  fair  miter  upon 
his  head.  So  they  set  a  fair  miter  upon  his 
head,  and  clothed  him  with  garments.  And 
the  angel  of  the  Lord  stood  by." 


474  The  Mediator. 

I  SEE  a  man  at  God's  right  hand, 
Upon  the  throne  of  God, 

Anci  there  in  sevenfold  light  I  see 
The  sevenfold  sprinkled  bkxxl. 


C.  M.  D. 


EXALTATION   AND   OFFICES. 


213 


I  look  upon  that  glorious  Man, 
On  that  blood-sprinkled  throne; 

1  know  that  he  sits  there  for  me, 
That  glory  is  my  own. 

2  The  heart  of  God  flows  forth  in  love, 
A  deep  eternal  stream ; 

Through  that  beloved  Son  it  flows 

To  me  as  unto  him. 
And,  looking  on  his  face,  I  know — 

Weak,  worthless,  though  I  be — 
How  deep,  how  measureless,  how  sweet, 

That  love  of  God  to  me. 

3  The  Lord  who  sits  upon  the  throne 
With  them  his  joy  will  share. 

And  there  the  sprinkled  blood  appears 

That  he  may  set  them  there. 
From  drear  dark  places  of  the  earth, 

From  depths  of  sin  and  shame, 
He  takes  the  vessels  for  his  grace, 

A  people  for  his  name. 

This  hymn,  written  by  Dr.  Horatius  Bonar, 
was  first  published  in  the  third  edition  of  the 
Praise  Book  edited  by  Dr.  William  Reid, 
1872.  It  affords  an  illustration  of  the  match- 
less felicity  which  this  eminent  writer  pos- 
sessed of  urging  theological  doctrine  into  the 
songs  of  the  house  of  God,  without  making 
them  stiff  or  didactically  dry.  Here  the  en- 
tire work  of  Jesus  Christ  as  Mediator  is 
brought  into  three  musical  stanzas ;  it  is 
astonishing  how  simile  and  type,  dogma  and 
duty,  faith,  hope,  and  zeal,  are  introduced 
into  the  easy  and  rhythmical  sentences  of  each 
verse.  Man  dares  not  come  directly  to  God, 
and  he  could  accomplish  nothing  if  he  did. 
Three  things  repel  him :  God's  holiness, 
God's  justice,  and  God's  power.  He  becomes 
ashamed,  afraid,  alarmed,  all  at  once.  Job 
exclaimed  :  "  If  I  speak  of  strength,  lo,  he  is 
strong;  and  if  of  judgment,  who  shall  set 
me  a  time  to  plead  }  He  is  not  a  man  that 
I  should  answer  him."  The  patriarch  felt 
the  need  of  some  one  as  a  go-between : 
"  Neither  is  there  any  daysman  betwixt  us, 
that  might  lay  his  hand  upon  us  both."  To 
this  Old  Testament  outcry  of  a  desolate  soul 
the  New  Testament  makes  immediate  reply 
"  There  is  one  God,  and  one  Mediator  be- 
tween God  and  men,  the  man  Christ  Jesus.' 
Thus  there  is  offered  "  a  better  covenant,' 
and  our  Saviour  is  the  mediator  of  it — divine 
so  that  we  might  trust  him ;  human,  so  that 
we  might  approach  him.  The  Son  of  God 
becomes  the  Son  of  Mary. 


475 


"  A  thoughtless  tongue.^'' 


C.  M.  D. 


Oh  !  for  a  shout  of  sacred  icy 

To  God,  the  sovereign  King; 
Let  all  the  lands  their  tongues  employ. 

And  hymns  of  triumph  sing. 
Jesus,  our  God,  ascends  on  high  ; 

His  heavenly  guards  around 
Attend  him  rising  through  the  sky. 

With  trumpets'  joyful  sound. 


2  While  angels  shout  and  praise  their  King, 

Let  mortals  learn  their  strains ; 
'  Let  all  the  earth  his  honor  sing — 

O'er  all  the  earth  he  reigns. 
Rehearse  his  praise,  with  awe  profound ; 

Let  knowledge  lead  the  song ; 
Nor  mock  him  with  a  solemn  sound 

Upon  a  thoughtless  tongue. 

This  is  the  version  of  Psalm  47  which  Dr. 
Isaac  Watts  has  made  his  only  representative 
of  that  ancient  song  "  For  the  sons  of  Korah." 
It  is  more  like  a  paraphrase  than  a  translation. 
He  entitled  it,  "  Christ,  Ascending  and  Reign- 
ing," and  tried  to  inject  into  it  a  New  Testa- 
ment sentiment,  and  to  draw  a  practical  les- 
son out  of  it  for  what  he  calls  "  these  British 
isles." 

476  Reconciliation.  C.  M.  D. 

Come,  let  us  lift  our  joyful  eyes 

Up  to  the  courts  above. 
And  smile  to  see  our  Father  there 

Upon  a  throne  of  love. 
Now  we  may  bow  before  his  feet, 

And  venture  near  the  Lord  : 
No  fiery  cherub  guards  his  seat, 

Nor  double  flaming  sword. 

2  The  peaceful  gates  of  heavenly  bliss 

Are  opened  by  the  Son ; 
High  let  us  raise  our  notes  of  praise, 

And  reach  the  almighty  throne. 
To  thee  ten  thousand  thanks  we  bring. 

Great  Advocate  on  high. 
And  glory  to  the  eternal  King, 

Who  lays  his  anger  by. 

Dr.  Isaac  Watts  has  given  us  this  in  his 
Hymtis  and  Spiritual  Songs,  1707,  as  No.  108 
of  Book  II.  It  has  six  stanzas,  and  is  enti- 
tled, "  Access  to  the  throne  of  grace  by  a  Me- 
diator." The  whole  thought  of  Jesus  Christ 
as  an  Advocate  is  full  of  paradoxes  to  one 
whose  heart  is  not  enlightened  by  the  Holy 
Spirit.  The  image  of  a  court,  with  its  judge 
and  its  lawyers,  is  very  helpful  if  it  were  not 
for  some  peculiar  seeming  contradictions  to 
our  sen.se  of  ordinary  justice.  Here  is  a  cul- 
prit arraigned  at  the  bar ;  he  secures  an  advo- 
cate to  plead  his  cause.  But  this  Advocate  is 
the  Son  of  the  Father  who  is  on  the  bench  to 
decide  guilt  and  give  sentence  of  judgment. 
Moreover,  the  Judge  says  he  agrees  with 
everything  the  Advocate  does,  and  is  well 
pleased  with  him.  Then,  too,  the  Advocate 
proceeds  with  all  his  power  to  force  the  con- 
viction of  his  client.  He  exhibits  his  awful 
guilt  relentlessly,  act  after  act  of  measureless 
and  daring  rebellion  against  the  Law.  He 
dashes  away  every  species  or  semblance  of 
defence.  Then,  too,  this  strange  Advocate 
seems  to  have  a  perfect  horror  of  the  man  he 
defends,  and  yet  declares  he  loves  him  enough 
to  lay  down  his  own  life  in  his  behalf.  He 
calls  on  his  Father  to  bid  his  client  kneel  for 
the  sentence  of  awful  doom.     And  then  the 


k 


214 


THE   LORD   JESUS   CHRIST. 


client  rises  witli  a  gold  crown  on  his  head,  a 
roll  of  pardon  in  his  hand,  a  robe  of  white 
righteousness  on  his  person,  like  that  of  the 
Advocate.  The  Son  opens  the  gates  of  heav- 
enly bliss,  and  the  culprit,  now  saved  and 
safe,  enters  the  halls  of  eternity  with  songs 
of  welcome  in  the  celestial  air.  Such  para- 
doxes need  the  other  doctrine  of  atonement 
made  on  the  cross  of  Calvary,  and  then  they 
are  perfectly  clear  and  beautiful. 

A^7  Our  Joy  and  Reward.  CM. 

O  Christ  !  our  hope,  our  heart's  desire, 

Redemption's  only  spring ! 
Creator  of  the  world  art  thou,    . 

Its  Saviour  and  its  King. 

2  How  vast  the  mercy  and  the  love 
Which  laid  our  sins  on  thee, 

And  led  thee  to  a  cruel  death 
To  set  thy  people  free  ! 

3  But  now  the  bonds  of  death  are  burst. 
The  ransom  has  been  paid  : 

And  thou  art  on  thy  Father's  throne, 
In  glorious  robes  arrayed. 

4  Oh,  may  thy  mighty  love  prevail, 
Our  sinful  souls  to  spare  ! 

Oh,  may  we  come  before  thy  throne 
And  find  acceptance  there ! 

5  O  Christ !  be  thou  our  present  joy, 
Our  future  great  reward  ! 

Our  only  glory  may  it  be 
To  glory  in  the  Lord. 

There  was  a  hymn,  composed  by  some 
ancient  and  anonymous  believer  in  the  mys- 
terious period  between  the  seventh  and  tenth 
century,  beginning :  "Jesu  nostra  redemptio  ;" 
this  has  proved  to  have  force  enough  to  live 
down  to  our  time.  The  manuscript  of  it  may 
be  found  to  this  day  in  the  British  Museum, 
as  well  as  in  two  or  three  other  places  on  the 
Continent.  The  present  translation  is  given 
as  an  Ascension  hymn  by  Rev.  John  Chandler ; 
it  dates  in  1837,  and  is  included  in  his  Hytnns 
of  the  Primitive  Church. 

478  ChrisVs  return  to  Heaven.  C.  M 

The  golden  gates  are  lifted  up, 

The  doors  are  opened  wide, 
The  King  of  glory  is  gone  in 

Unto  his  Father's  side. 

2  Thou  art  gone  up  before  us,  Lord, 
To  make  for  us  a  place. 

That  we  may  be  where  now  thou  art. 
And  look  upon  God's  face. 

3  And  ever  on  thine  earthly  path 
A  gleam  of  glory  lies ; 

A  light  still  breaks  behind  the  cloud 
That  vailed  thee  from  our  eyes. 

4  Lift  up  our  hearts,  lift  up  our  minds, 
Let  thy  dear  grace  be  given, 

That  while  we  tarry  here  below. 
Our  treasure  be  in  heaven  ! 

5  That  where  thou  art,  at  God's  right  hand. 
Our  hope,  our  love  may  be ; 

Dwell  thou  in  us_,  that  we  may  dwell 
For  evermore  m  thee  ! 


This  piece  is  sometimes  missed  in  the  in- 
dexes because  of  the  absence  of  what  was 
originally  its  first  line  :  "  The  eternal  gates  lift 
up  their  heads."  That  stanza  was  left  off  in 
the  revised  form  which  Mrs.  Cecil  Frances 
Alexander,  the  author,  published  in  1858  in 
her  Hymns  Descriptive  and  Devotional.  Allu- 
sion is  made  in  the  opening  verse  to  Psalm 
24:7-10.  The  poetry  of  the  composition  lies 
in  the  conception  of  "  a  gleam  of  glor)' "  flung 
on  Jesus'  "  earthly  path  "  by  the  light  which 
"  still  breaks  behind  the  cloud  "  beyond  which 
the  rising  Lord  has  gone. 

479  Jobi^-.i-,.  CM. 

1  KNOW  that  my  Redeemer  lives, 
And  ever  prays  for  me : 

A  token  of  his  love  he  gives, 
A  pledge  of  liberty. 

2  I  find  him  lifting  up  my  head  ; 
He  brings  salvation  near: 

His  presence  makes  me  free  indeed, 
And  he  will  soon  appear. 

3  He  wills  that  I  should  holy  be  : 
What  can  withstand  his  will  ? 

The  counsel  of  his  grace  in  me 
He  surely  shall  fulfill. 

4  Jesus,  I  hang  upon  thy  word : 
I  steadfastly  believe 

Thou  wilt  return,  and  claim  me,  Lord, 
And  to  thyself  receive. 

There  are  twenty-three  stanzas  in  this  piece 
as  it  appears  in  the.  Hymns  and  Sacred  Poe7ns, 
1742,  of  Rev.  Charles  Wesley.  It  is  entitled 
"  Rejoicing  in  Hope,"  and  has  annexed  to  it 
the  reference,  Romans  12:12. 

It  has  often  been  said  in  theological  dis- 
cussions that  men  will  be  quick  to  preach 
Arminianism,  but  will  become  the  rigidest  of 
Calvinists  the  moment  they  start  to  sing  or 
pray.  Surely  it  would  be  difficult  to  find  in 
all  the  round  of  hymnological  literature  a 
more  direct  acknowledgment  of  the  divine 
sovereignty  at  its  supreme  exercise  than  is 
here  given  by  the  historic  Asaph  of  the 
Methodist  Church.  And  while  some  in 
modern  times  are  seeking  to  reject  many  of 
the  old  formulas  of  belief  as  to  election  and 
perseverance,  it  may  be  refreshing  to  remem- 
ber that  enthusiasm  with  which  the  followers 
of  the  Wesleys  still  sing  these  lines  : 

"  He  wills  that  I  should  holy  be  : 
What  can  withstand  his  will? 
The  counsel  of  his  grace  in  me 
He  surely  shall  fulfill." 

480  Christ,  our  Priest.  CM. 

Come,  let  us  join  our  songs  of  praise 

To  our  ascended  Priest ; 
He  entered  heaven  with  all  our  names 

Engraven  on  his  breast. 

2  Below  he  washed  our  guilt  away. 

By  his  atoning  blood  ; 
Now  he  appears  before  the  throne, 

And  pleads  our  cause  with  God. 


EXALTATION   AND   OFFICES. 


215 


■3  Clothed  with  our  nature  still,  he  knows 

The  weakness  of  our  frame, 
And  how  to  shield  us  from  the  foes 

Which  he  himself  o'ercame. 

4  Nor  time,  nor  distance,  e'er  shall  quench 
The  fervor  of  his  love ; 

For  us  he  died  in  kindness  here, 
For  us  he  lives  above. 

5  Oh  !  may  we  ne'er  forget  his  grace, 
Nor  blush  to  bear  his  name ; 

Still  may  our  hearts  hold  fast  his  faith — 
Our  lips  his  praise  proclaim. 

The  author  of  this  hymn,  Rev.  Alexander 
Pirie,  was  a  Scotch  clergyman  who  was  con- 
nected for  some  time  with  the  Antiburgher 
Synod  of  the  Presbyterian  Church  of  Scot- 
land. He  came  to  America  in  1760,  having 
been  appointed  an  instructor  of  the  Philo- 
sophical Class  in  the  Theological  Seminary, 
New  York  City.  Soon  afterward,  however, 
he  displeased  his  denomination,  and  on  a 
technical  charge  was  formally  dismissed 
from  the  church.  He  then  returned  to  Scot- 
land, joined  the  society  of  the  Burghers,  and 
undertook  the  pastorate  of  a  church  in 
Abernethy.  His  views  again  brought  him 
into  difficulty  with  his  fellow- workers,  and  in 
1769  he  left  the  Secession  Church,  with 
which  he  had  been  connected,  and  allied 
himself  with  the  Independents,  finally  becom- 
ing the  minister  of  a  congregation  at  New- 
burgh,  Fifeshire ;  in  which  place  he  died  in 
1804. 

The  hymn  quoted  first  appeared  in  1777, 
in  Psalms,  or  Hymns  founded  on  some  import- 
ant Passages  of  Scripture.  Allusion  is  here 
made  to  the  high-priest's  ephod,  as  described 
in  Exodus  28:9-12. 

48  i  Names  on  his  heart.  C.  M. 

Now  let  our  cheerful  eyes  survey 

Our  great  High-Priest  above; 
And  celebrate  his  constant  care 

And  sympathetic  love. 

2  Though  raised  to  a  superior  throne. 
Where  angels  bow  around. 

And  high  o'er  all  the  shining  train, 
With  matchless  honors  crowned : 

3  The  names  of  all  his  saints  he  bears 
Deep  graven  on  his  heart ; 

Nor  shall  the  meanest  Christian  say 
That  he  hath  lost  his  part. 

4  Those  characters  shall  fair  abide 
Our  everlasting  trust. 

When  gems,  ana  monuments,  and  crowns, 
Are  mouldered  down  to  dust. 

5  So,  gracious  Saviour !  on  my  breast 
May  thy  dear  name  be  worn, 

A  sacred  ornament  and  guard, 
To  endless  ages  borne. 

Dr.  Philip  Doddridge  has  entitled  this 
hymn,  "  Christ's  Intercession  Typified  by 
Aaron's  Breastplate."  It  appears  in  his 
Hymns  as  No.  8,  and  has  the  usual  five  stan- 


zas. Allusion  is  made  to  the  record  in  E.x- 
odus  28 :  28,  29 :  "And  they  shall  bind  the 
breastplate  by  the  rings  thereof  unto  the 
rings  of  the  ephod  with  a  lace  of  blue,  that  it 
may  be  above  the  curious  girdle  of  the  ephod, 
and  that  the  breastplate  be  not  loosed  from 
the  ephod.  And  Aaron  shall  bear  the  names 
of  the  children  of  Israel  in  the  breastplate  of 
judgment  upon  his  heart,  when  he  goeth  in 
unto  the  holy  place,  for  a  memorial  before 
the  Lord  continually." 

482  Christ  in  Heaven.  8s,  7s. 

Christ,  above  all  glory  seated  ! 

King  eternal,  strong  to  save  ! 
To  thee.  Death,  by  death  defeated, 

Triumph  high  and  glory  gave. 

2  Thou  art  gone  where  now  is  given 
What  no  mortal  might  could  gain, 

On  the  eternal  throne  of  heaven, 
In  thy  Father's  power  to  reign. 

3  There  thy  kingdoms  all  adore  thee. 
Heaven  above  and  earth  below. 

While  the  depths  of  hell  before  thee 
Trembling  and  defeated  bow. 

4  We,  O  Lord !  with  hearts  adoring. 
Follow  thee  above  the  skj; : 

Hear  our  prayers  thy  grace  imploring, 
Lift  our  souls  to  thee  on  high. 

5  So  when  thou  again  in  glory 

On  the  clouds  of  heaven  shalt  shine. 
We  thy  flock  shall  stand  before  thee, 
Owned  for  evermore  as  thine. 

Church  Hymns,  the  English  collection  edit- 
ed by  Sir  Arthur  Sullivan  for  the  Society  for 
Promoting  Christian  Knowledge,  credits  this 
excellent  hymn  to  William  John  Copeland  as 
a  translation  from  the  Latin.  This  author  is 
reported  as  the  rector  of  Farnham,  Essex,  and 
rural  dean.  He  was  graduated  at  Oxford, 
1829,  and  entered  the  ministry  of  the  Church 
of  England  in  1840.  His  death  occurred  Au- 
gust 25,  1885.  But  the  Dictionary  of  Hym- 
nology,  1892,  gives  the  piece  as  a  version  of 
the  ancient  Latin  hymn  "  ALterne  Rex  altissi- 
tne,  Redemptor,"  an  anonymous  canticle  of 
the  fourteenth  century,  or  thereabouts — some 
even  say  the  fifth  century — and  credits  the 
translation  to  Rev.  James  Russell  Woodford, 
D.  D.,  the  late  Bishop  of  Ely.  And  Rev. 
Samuel  W.  Duffield,  our  best  authority  upon 
such  a  subject,  says  that  it  resembles  "  faint- 
ly "  the  Ambrosian  piece,  "  Christe,  rex  caeli 
domine ;"  also,  that  it  has  "a  trifling  like- 
ness "  to  the  Paris  Breviary  hymn,  "  Christe, 
qiti  sedes  Olympo." 

483  "  The  Bridegroom  cometh."  P.  M. 

Wake,  awake !  for  night  is  flying ; 

The  watchmen  on  the  heights  are  crying. 

Awake,  Jerusalem,  at  last ! 
Midnight  hears  the  welcome  voices, 
And  at  the  thrilling  cry  rejoices ; 

Come  forth,  ye  virgins,  night  is  past ! 


2l6 


THE   LORD   JESUS   CHRIST. 


The  Bridegroom  comes ;  awake, 
Vour  lamps  with  gladness  take  ; 

Halleluiah  ! 
And  for  his  marriage  feast  prepare, 
hor  ye  must  go  to  meet  him  there. 

2  Zion  hears  the  watchmen  singing, 
And  all  her  heart  with  joy  is  springing ; 

She  wakes,  she  rises  from  her  gloom  ; 
For  her  Lord  comes  down  all-glorious ; 
The  strong  in  grace,  in  truth  victorious; 

Her  Star  is  risen,  her  Light  is  come! 
Ah,  come,  thou  blessed  One, 
God's  own  beloved  Son ; 

Hallelujah ! 
We  follow  till  the  halls  we  see 
Where  thou  hast  bid  us  sup  with  thee. 

3  Now  let  all  the  heavens  adore  thee. 
And  men  and  angels  sing  before  thee 

With  harp  and  cymbal's  clearest  tone; 
Of  one  pearl  each  shining  portal, 
Where  we  are  with  the  choir  immortal 

Of  angels  round  thy  dazzling  throne; 
Nor  eye  hath  seen,  nor  ear 
Hath  yet  attained  to  hear. 

What  there  is  ours ; 
But  we  rejoice,  and  sing  to  thee 
Our  hymn  of  joy  eternally. 

From  the  German  of  Philipp  Nicolai,  Miss 
Catharine  Winkworth  translated  this  hymn. 
It  is  to  be  found  in  her  Lyra  Gerjnam'ca,  Sec- 
ond Series,  1858,  where  it  is  entitled  "The 
Final  Joy."  Mendelssohn  used  the  chorale  to 
which  it  is  usually  sung  in  his  "  St.  Paul," 
and  the  words,  also,  after  a  few  slight  changes 
had  been  made  in  them.  The  piece  has  been 
translated  into  many  languages. 

Rev.  Philipp  Nicolai,  D.  D.,  was  born  at 
Mengeringhausen,  in  Waldeck,  Germany,  Au- 
gust 10,  1556.  He  began  to  study  at  the 
University  of  Erfurt  in  1575,  and  a  year  later 
went  to  Wittenberg ;  after  his  graduation  in 
1579  he  lived  in  a  town  near  his  birthplace, 
and  sometimes  preached  for  his  father.  He 
received  the  appointment  of  the  Lutheran 
pastorate  at  Herdecke  in  1 583 ;  but  as  the 
authorities  were  all  Roman-catholics  he  had  a 
difficult  time  to  get  along,  and  in  1586  he  re- 
signed. After  laboring  in  various  fields  for 
two  years,  he  became  court  preacher  to  Coun- 
tess Margaretha  of  Waldeck,  and  tutor  to  her 
young  son.  He  took  an  active  interest  in  the 
theological  controversies  of  the  day,  and  his 
partisan  spirit  led  him  into  many  difficulties  ; 
but  when  a  fearful  pestilence  came  upon  the 
land  in  1597,  and  struck  down  thousands, 
Nicolai's  earnest  piety  shone  forth,  and  his 
zeal  for  the  relief  of  his  suffering  people  was 
untiring.  It  was  during  this  time  that  he 
wrote  his  "  IVachet  auf,  ruft  uns  die  Stim- 
ine,"  the  English  rendering  of  which  is  before 
us.  When  the  Spaniards  invaded  the  coun- 
try in  1 598  he  was  forced  to  flee ;  but  he 
returned  again,  and  in  1601  became  the  chief 
minister  of  St.  Katherine's  Church,  at  Ham- 
burg, which  charge  he  retained  until  his 
death,  October  26,  1608. 


484  "  Vent,  Immanuel."  L.  M.  61. 

Draw  nigh,  draw  nigh,  Immanuel, 
And  ransom  captive  Israel, 
That  mourns  in  lonely  exile  here. 
Until  the  Son  of  God  appear. 
Ref. — Rejoice!    Rejoice!    Immanuel 
Shall  come  to  thee,  O  Israel ! 

2  Draw  nigh,  draw  nigh,  O  Morning  Star, 
And  bring  us  comfort  from  afar; 

And  banish  far  from  us  the  gloom 

Of  sinful  night  and  endless  doom. — Ref. 

3  Draw  nigh,  draw  nigh,  O  David's  Key, 
The  heavenly  gate  unfolds  to  thee  ; 
Make  safe  the  way  that  leads  on  high. 
And  close  the  path  to  misery. — Ref. 

4  Draw  nigh,  draw  nigh,  O  Lord  of  might. 
Who  once,  from  Sinai's  flaming  height 
Didst  give  the  trembling  tribes  thy  law, 
In  cloud,  and  majesty,  and  awe. — ^Ref. 

This  is  one  of  Dr.  John  Mason  Neale's 
translations.  It  is  offered  as  the  rendering  of 
an  anonymous  and  almost  dateless  produc- 
tion of  the  twelfth  century,  as  some  conjec- 
ture :  "  Vent,  vent,  Immanuel."  It  is  not  very 
valuable.  Gounod's  music  brings  to  it  a  mea- 
sure of  popularity  as  a  carol,  and  it  has  been 
of  ser\'ice  in  missionary  fields  where  the  gos- 
pel comes  in  contact  with  Israelites.  The 
fact  is,  Immanuel  has  come ;  he  came  almost 
nineteen  hundred  years  ago,  whether  the  Jews 
believe  it  or  not.  But  all  can  join  heartily  in 
the  petition  and  promise  that  he  may  yet  ef- 
fectually come  to  God  s  ancient  people. 

485  The  Judgment.  Ss,  7s.  D. 

He  is  coming,  he  is  coming, 

Not  as  once  he  came  before, 
Wailing  infant,  born  in  weakness 

On  a  lowly  stable  floor : 
But  upon  his  cloud  of  glory. 

In  the  crimson-tinted  sky, 
Where  we  see  the  golden  sunrise 

In  the  rosy  distance  lie. 

2  He  is  coming,  he  is  coming. 

Not  in  pain,  and  shame,  and  woe. 
With  the  thorn-crown  on  his  forehead. 

And  the  blood-drops  trickling  slow; 
But  with  diadem  upon  him. 

And  the  scepter  m  his  hand. 
And  the  dead  all  ranged  before  him, 

Raised  from  death,  hell,  sea,  and  land. 

3  He  is  coming,  he  is  coming, 

Not  as  once  he  wandered  through 
All  the  hostile  land  of  Judah, 

With  his  followers  poor  and  few : 
But  with  all  the  holy  angels 

Waiting  round  his  judgment-seat. 
And  the  chosen  twelve  apostles 

Sitting  crowned  at  his  feet. 

4  He  is  coming,  he  is  coming; 
Let  his  lowly  first  estate. 

And  his  tender  love  so  teach  us 
That  in  faith  and  hope  we  wait. 

Till  in  glorv-  eastward  burning 
Our  redemption  draweth  near; 

And  we  see  the  sign  in  heaven 
Of  our  Judge  and  Saviour  dear. 

This  hymn  was  found  in  Barnby's  Hymna- 
ry,  1872,  credited  to  Mrs.  Cecil  Frances  Alex- 
ander, and  was  copied  into  Laudes  Domini  as 


COMING   AGAIN. 


217 


one  of  its  most  welcome  and  valuable  acquisi- 
tions. Why  other  collections  have  not  taken 
it  up  it  is  not  easy  to  see.  Our  old  friend,  Rev. 
Samuel  Willoughby  Duffield,  has  not  men- 
tioned it,  neither  is  it  named  in  Julian's  great 
Dictionary,  yet  it  will  arrest  attention  by  the 
beauty  of  its  diction,  the  melody  of  its  rhythm, 
and  the  Scripturalness  of  its  sentiment. 

436-  ^' Desire  of  the  Nations."  8s,  7s.  D. 

Come,  thou  long-expected  Jesus, 

Born  to  set  thy  people  free ; 
From  our  fears  and  sins  release  us, 

Let  us  find  our  rest  in  thee : 
Israel's  Strength  and  Consolation, 

Hope  of  all  the  saints  thou  art ; 
Dear  Desire  of  every  nation, 

Joy  of  every  longing  heart. 

2  Born,  thy  people  to  deliver ; 

Born  a  child,  and  yet  a  King ; 
Born  to  reign  in  us  for  ever, 

Now  thy  precious  kingdom  bring: 
By  thine  own  eternal  Spirit 

Rule  in  all  our  hearts  alone; 
By  thine  all-sufficient  merit 

Raise  us  to  thy  glorious  throne. 

This  is  found  in  Rev.  Charles  Wesley's 
Hytnns  for  the  Nativity  of  our  Lord,  1 744. 
It  celebrates  the  first  advent  of  Jesus,  and  it 
looks  forward  to  the  second.  Christ  has  al- 
ways been  "  the  Desire  of  all  nations,"  Hag- 
gai  2  :  7.  He  was  the  unconscious  prophecy 
of  the  prophets  and  seers  through  many  a 
clouded  century.  They  were  restless ;  they 
did  not  know  what  they  wanted ;  but  they 
longed  for  him  as  the  needle  longs  for  the 
star.  And  the  world  still  longs  for  him  to  re- 
turn and  be  here  again.  When  we  look  back 
to  the  time  of  John  the  Baptist  we  find  heathen 
historians  declaring  that  even  heathen  nations 
were  expecting  Somebody  to  come.  Then, 
just  after  that,  he  did  come.  How  different 
the  record  !  Everybody  is  singing.  Mary  is 
giving  us  the  Magnificat,  and  Zacharias  is 
composing  the  Betiedictus  ;  Simeon  is  chant- 
ing the  Nunc  Dimittis,  and  the  whole  world 
is  listening  to  the  Gloria  in  Excelsis  which  the 
angels  had  been  singing  over  Bethlehem  hills. 


5  Oh,  to  love  and  serve  thee  better  ! 

From  all  evil  set  us  free ; 
Break,  Lord,  every  sinful  fetter, 

Be  each  thought  conformed  to  thee. 


487  ' '  Brother,  King .'' ' 

Friend  of  sinners  !    Lord  of  glory  ! 

Lowly,  mighty  I    Brother,  King ! 
Musing  o'er  thy  wondrous  story, 

Fain,  would  I  thy  praises  sing. 

2  Friend  to  help  us,  comfort,  save  us, 
In  whom  power  and  pity  blend. 

Praise  we  must  the  ^race  which  gave  us 
Jesus  Christ,  the  sinner's  Friend. 

3  Friend  who  never  fails  nor  grieves  us. 
Faithful,  tender,  constant,  kind  ! 

Friend  who  at  all  times  receives  us, 
Friend  who  came  the  lost  to  find  ! 

4  Sorrow  soothing,  joys  enhancing. 
Loving  until  life  shall  end, 

Then  conferring  bliss  entrancing, 
Still  in  heaven  the  sinner's  Friend. 


8s,  7s. 


THE  REV.   NEWMAN  HALL,   LL.  B. 

In  the  New  Laudes  Domini  an  additional 
verse  is  found,  omitted  in  this  version  for  me- 
chanical reasons  ;  that  shows  why  the  hymn- 
was  placed  among  those  reckoned  as  belong- 
ing to  the  second  coming  of  our  Lord. 

Rev.  Christopher  Newman  Hall,  LL.  B.,  the 
well-known  Congregational  minister  of  Surrey 
Chapel  in  Southwark,  London  (afterwards  re- 
named Christ-Church,  Westminster),  is  the 
fourth  child  of  that  eminent  servant  of  Jesus, 
John  Vine  Hall,  the  author  of  the  Sinner's 
Friend.  He  was  born  at  Maidstone,  May  22, 
1 8 16.  Strongly  tempted  to  enter  the  profes- 
sion of  law,  he  entered  the  ministry  simply 
and  solely  "  to  persuade  men  to  Jesus."  This 
is  the  key-note  of  his  whole  life- labor.  His 
theology  is  the  theology  of  Calvary.  Himself 
a  nominal  Congregationalist,  he  uses  the 
Church  of  England  liturgy  in  his  Sabbath 
service ;  he  has  a  Presbyterian  board  of  elders ; 
he  assimilates  with  Methodists  in  many  of  his 
modes  of  labor ;  he  is  equally  at  home  with 
Episcopalians  like  Bickersteth  or  with  Qua- 
kers like  Bevan  Braithwaite. 

He  is  now  retired  from  the  active  ministry, 
his  great  age  unfitting  him  for  outside  care. 
But,  close  down  to  the  day  of  his  resignation, 
this  is  the  record  written  of  him :  "  After 
preaching  in  the  church  edifice  it  is  Mr.  Hall's 
frequent  habit  to  go  out  and  address  the  peo- 


2l8 


THE  LORD  JESUS  CHRIST. 


pie  in  the  street,  Though  now  ahnost  sev- 
enty-four years  old,  he  stands  erect  in  mag- 
nificent strength,  nearly  six  feet  in  height ;  he 
has  the  muscle  and  endurance  of  an  athlete, 
can  climb  a  mountain  like  a  member  of  the 
Alpine  Club,  and  often  walks  a  dozen  miles 
on  Sunday  to  and  from  his  church.  He  has 
the  element  of  humor  in  him,  can  enjoy  a 
merry  romp  with  children,  and  brims  over 
with  life  in  every  direction.  His  church  num- 
bers nearly  two  thousand  members,  and 
among  them  are  several  scores  of  converted 
inebriates.  He  is  a  zealous  teetotaler  and 
makes  the  temperance  reform  prominent,  no 
less  than  five  meetings  for  the  promotion  of 
total  abstinence  being  held  every  month  I 
His  church  maintains  thirteen  Sunday- 
schools,  seventeen  lodging-houses,  a  Chris- 
tian Instruction  Society,  and  holds  about 
forty  services  for  the  poor  every  week  !" 

From  1842  to  1854  this  most  evangelic 
and  zealous  preacher  was  pastor  over  the 
Albion  Church  in  Hull.  While  settled  there 
he  went  out  one  evening  from  a  dinner-party 
to  preach  to  a  throng  who  had  gathered  in 
the  street.  A  primitive  Methodist  was  sing- 
ing to  the  crowd  that  familiar  ditty,  "  Come 
to  Jesus  just  now."  Mr.  Hall  caught  up  the 
words  and  extemporized  a  powerful  exhorta- 
tion on  the  spot.  He  repeated  it  to  his  own 
congregation.  Soon  afterward,  being  con- 
fined to  his  room  by  a  long  illness,  he  recalled 
the  discourse  and  determined  to  turn  it  into 
a  short  practical  treatise  for  inquirers  after 
salvation.  He  wrote  it  out  in  the  fewest  and 
simplest  words  possible,  and  his  brother,  Mr. 
Warren  Hall,  printed  two  thousand  copies 
for  distribution.  Such  was  the  origin  of  that 
wonderful  tract,  "  Come  to  Jesus,"  which  has 
already  been  circulated  in  thirty  different  lan- 
guages, to  the  number  of  three  million  five 
hundred  thousand  copies ! 

In  1858  Mr.  Hall  published  a  volume  called 
Hymns  Composed  at  Bolton  Abbey,  and  Other 
Rhymes.  The  present  hymn  appeared  first  in 
that  book.  Another  collection  of  his  poetic 
pieces  has  been  issued  since,  1870,  entitled 
Pilgrim  Songs  in  Sunshine  and  Shade  ;  and 
a  third  has  followed  that.  Songs  of  Earth  and 
Heaven.  His  hymns  have  proved  very  ac- 
ceptable among  non-conformists  in  Britain ; 
Mr.  Spurgeon  has  some  in  his  collection,  and 
so  have  other  compilers ;  but  not  many  have 
found  their  way  across  the  sea. 

488  The  Prince  of  Peace.  8s,  7s.  D. 

Light  of  those  whose  dreary  dwelling 

Borders  on  the  shades  of  death ! 
Rise  on  us,  thy  love  revealing, 
Dissipate  the  clouds  beneath : 


Thou  of  heaven  and  earth  Creator, 

In  our  deepest  darkness  rise, 
Scattering  all  the  night  of  nature. 

Pouring  day  upon  our  eyes. 

2  Still  we  wait  for  thine  appearing; 
Life  and  joy  thy  beams  impart, 

Chasing  all  our  fears,  and  cheering 

Every  poor  benighted  heart : 
Come  and  manifest  thy  favor 

To  the  ransomed,  helpless  race; 
Come,  thou  glorious  God  and  Saviour ! 

Come,  and  bring  the  gospel  grace. 

3  Save  us,  in  thy  great  compassion, 
O  thou  mild,  pacific  Prince! 

Give  the  knowledge  of  salvation, 

Give  the  pardon  of  our  sins ; 
By  thine  ^1-sufficient  merit 

Every  burdened  soul  release ; 
Every  weary,  wandering  spirit 

Guide  into  thy  perfect  peace. 

In  1744  Rev.  Charles  Wesley  published  a 
small  book,  like  a  tract  in  size,  called  Hymns 
for  the  Nativity  of  our  Lord.  It  was  printed 
anonymously,  without  date,  and  contained 
only  sixteen  hymns,  of  which  this  was  one. 
Singular  it  is  that  such  a  cherished  treasure 
of  the  churches  should  have  had  so  humble 
an  origin^such  a  modest  introduction  into 
the  world !  Worth  tells  in  the  end.  These 
poems  forced  their  way  into  cordial  recogni- 
tion as  among  the  best  the  Epworth  poet 
ever  made. 

489  "King  0/ kings."  8s,  7s,  4s. 

Look,  ye  saints,  the  sight  is  glorious, 

See  the  Man  of  Sorrows  now : 
From  the  fight  returned  victorious. 

Ever)'  knee  to  him  shall  bow : 
Crown  him,  crown  him  ! 

Crowns  become  the  Victor's  brow. 

2  Crown  the  Saviour,  angels,  crown  him ; 
Rich  the  trophies  Jesus  brings ; 

In  the  seat  of  power  enthrone  him. 
While  the  vault  of  heaven  rings : 

Crown  him,  crown  him  ; 
Crown  the  Saviour  "  King  of  kings." 

3  Sinners  in  derision  crowned  him  ; 
Mocking  thus  the  Saviour's  claim : 

Saints  and  angels  crowd  around  him, 
Own  his  title,  praise  his  name : 

Crown  him,  crown  him  ; 
Spread  abroad  the  Victor's  fame. 

4  Hark,  those  bursts  of  acclamation ! 
Hark,  those  loud  triumphant  chords ! 

Jesus  takes  the  highest  station  ; 
Oh,  what  joy  the  sight  aflTords : 

Crown  him,  crown  him  ; 
King  of  kings  and  Lord  of  lords." 

This  great  coronation  song  is  taken  from 
Rev.  Thomas  Kelly's  Hymns  on  Various 
Passages  of  Scripture.  1809.  The  text  is 
Revelation  11:15:  "  The  kingdoms  of  this 
world  are  become  the  kingdoms  of  our  Lord, 
and  of  his  Christ;  and  he  shall  reign  for  ever 
and  ever." 

490  Creation  groans.  8s,  7s,  4s. 

Saviour  !  hasten  thine  appearing; 

Take  thy  waiting  people  home! 

'T  is  this  hope,  our  spirits  cheering, 


COMING   AGAIN. 


219 


While  we  in  the  desert  roam, 

Makes  thy  people 
Strangers  here  till  thou  shall  come. 

2  Lord  !  how  long  shall  the  creation 
Groan  and  travail  sore  in  pain  ; 

Waiting  for  its  sure  salvation, 
When  thou  shalt  in  glory  reign. 

And  like  Eden, 
This  sad  earth  shall  bloom  again? 

3  Reign,  oh,  reign  !  almighty  Saviour! 
Heaven  and  earth  in  one  unite; 

Make  it  known  that  in  thy  favor 
There  alone  is  life  and  light. 

When  we  see  thee, 
We  shall  have  unmixed  delight. 

This  was  written  by  Rev.  James  George 
Declc,  and  published  in  his  Hymns  for  the 
Poor  of  the  Flock,  1838.  It  is  entitled,  "  Sec- 
ond Advent  Desired."  The  first  line  there 
reads  thus  :  "  Saviour,  haste ;  our  souls  are 
waiting."  This  took  the  form  now  in  use 
when  the  hymn  was  copied  for  Walker's 
Psalms  and  Hymns  for  Public  and  Social 
Worship,  1855. 

491  ^' Thou  art  worthy."  8s,  7s,  4s. 

Holy  Saviour !  we  adore  thee, 

Seated  on  the  throne  of  God ; 
While  the  heavenly  hosts  before  thee 

Gladly  sing  thy  praise  aloud. 
"  Thou  art  worthy ! 

We  are  ransomed  by  thy  blood." 

2  Saviour!  though  the  world  despised  thee, 
Though  thon  here  wast  crucified. 

Yet  the  Father's  glory  raised  thee. 
Lord  of  all  creation  wide  ; 

"  Thou  art  worthy ! 
We  shall  live,  for  thou  hast  died." 

3  Haste  the  day  of  thy  returning 
With  thy  ransomed  church  to  reign  : 

Then  shall  end  our  days  of  mourning. 
We  shall  sing  with  rapture  then, 

"  Thou  art  worthy  ! 
Come,  Lord  Jesus,  come,  Amen." 

This  •  was  originally  published  in  Hymns 
for  the  Poor  of  the  Flock,  1838,  edited  by 
Rev.  James  G.  Deck,  and  for  a  long  time 
bore  his  name  as  the  author.  In  the  edition 
of  1 88 1  it  appeared,  however,  with  the  ascrip- 
tion of  Rev.  Samuel  Prideaux  Tregelles,  LL.  D. 
Of  him,  now  recognized  as  a  hymn-writer  of 
real  excellence,  the  story  is  easily  told.  He 
was  the  son  of  a  Quaker,  the  editor  of  a 
Greek  Testament,  a  scholar  of  much  emi- 
nence, and  an  invalid  who  bore  his  miseries 
bravely.  He  was  born  at  Wodehouse  Place, 
Falmouth,  Cornwall  in  England,  January  20, 
181 3.  There  he  was  educated,  and  became  a 
teacher.  His  great  book  made  slow  progress, 
for  it  was  hindered  by  two  attacks  of  paraly- 
sis which  he  suffered  in  186 1  and  1870.  Still, 
he  kept  courageously  on  as  best  he  could. 
The  New  Testament  began  in  1844,  and  was 
issued  in  instalments ;  Part  VI.  came  out  in 
1872,     He  was  compelled  to  receive  literarj' 


help  at  the  last,  and  the  volume  appeared  as 
a  whole  in  1879.  He  was  appreciated, 
cheered,  and  helped ;  but  his  disabilities 
hedged  his  way.  The  Government  gave  him 
an  honorable  pension ;  he  was  put  on  the 
historic  Revision  Committee ;  but  he  had  no 
health  for  the  active  work.  He  made  some 
excellent  hymns,  and  did  some  small  service 
among  the  Plymouth  Brethren,  with  whom 
he  was  affiliated.  But  nature  finally  failed  ; 
he  died  at  Plymouth,  April  24,  1875. 


492 


"Christ  is  coming !" 


8s,  7s,  4s. 


Christ  is  coming!  let  creation 
Bid  her  groans  and  travail  cease; 

Let  the  glorious  proclamation 
Hope  restore  and  faith  increase; 

Christ  is  coming! 
Come,  thou  blessed  Prince  of  peace! 

2  Earth  can  now  but  tell  the  story 
Of  thy  bitter  cross  and  pain  ; 

She  shall  yet  behold  thy  glory 
When  thou  comest  back  to  reign  ; 

Christ  is  coming! 
Let  each  heart  repeat  the  strain. 

3  Long  thy  exiles  have  been  pining. 
Far  from  rest,  and  home,  and  thee; 

But,  in  heavenly  vesture  shining. 
Soon  they  shall  thy  glory  see ; 

Christ  is  coming! 
Haste  the  joyous  jubilee. 

4  With  that  "bless6d  hope"  before  us. 
Let  no  harp  remain  unstrung; 

Let  the  mighty  advent  chorus 
Onward  roll  from  tongue  to  tongue ; 

Christ  is  coming ! 
Come,  Lord  Jesus,  quickly  come. 

This  hymn  was  composed  by  Rev.  Dr. 
John  Ross  Macduff,  known  w-idely  to  the 
American  world  as  the  author  of  Morning 
and  Night  Watches,  The  Faithful  Prom- 
iser,  and  other  devotional  books  republished 
upon  this  side  of  the  water.  He  is  a  strong 
advocate  of  what  are  called  pre-millennial 
views ;  ranking  with  Spurgeon  and  Guthrie, 
Bonar,  McCheyne,  and  Duff.  Most  of  his 
hymns  were  published  in  his  Gates  of  Praise, 
1875,  but  a  few  were  first  issued  in  Altar 
Stones,  1853.  The  one  before  us  is  founded 
upon  Titus  2:11-13.  This  in  the  Revision 
reads  thus  :  "  For  the  grace  of  God  hath  ap- 
peared, bringing  salvation  to  all  men,  instruct- 
ing us,  to  the  intent  that,  denying  ungodliness 
and  worldly  lusts,  we  should  live  soberly  and 
righteously  and  godly  in  this  present  world  ; 
looking  for  the  blessed  hope  and  appearing 
of  the  glory  of  our  great  God  and  Saviour 
Jesus  Christ." 


493  Watt,  watch,  pray,  praise. 

Hark  !  't  is  the  watchman's  cry  : 
Wake,  brethren,  wake! 

Jesus  our  Lord  is  nigh  ; 
Wake,  brethren,  wake ! 


P.M. 


THE   LORD  JESUS  CHRIST. 


Sleep  is  for  sons  of  night  ; 
Ye  are  children  of  the  light ; 
Yours  is  the  glorj-  bright — 
Wake,  brethren,  wake! 

2  Call  to  each  waking  band, 
Watch,  brethren,  watch ! 

Clear  is  our  Lord's  command. 

Watch,  brethren,  watch. 
Be  ye  as  they  that  wait 
Always  at  the  Bridegroom's  gate ; 
Ev'n  though  he  tarry  late. 

Watch,  brethren,  watch ! 

3  Hear  we  the  Saviour's  voice, 
Pray,  brethren,  pray ! 

Would  ye  his  heart  rejoice? 

Pray,  brethren,  pray. 
Sin  calls  for  constant  fear ; 
Weakness  needs  the  strong  One  near  ; 
Long  as  ye  struggle  here. 

Pray,  brethren,  pray. 

4  Nqw  sound  the  final  chord, 
Praise,  brethren,  praise! 

Thrice  holy  is  our  Lord  ; 

Praise,  brethren,  praise! 
What  more  befits  the  tongues 
Soon  to  join  the  angels'  songs. 
While  heaven  the  note  prolongs, 

Praise,  brethren,  praise! 

Among  the  many  men  of  God  who  believe 
in  the  pre-millennial  coming  of  Christ  was 
Dr.  Horatius  Bonar.  In  the  "  Mildmay  Mis- 
sionary Conference  Report "  we  find  these 
words  of  his :  "  I  know  not  but  this  may  be 
my  last  opportunity  of  bearing  witness  to  the 
much-forgotten  doctrine  which  was  so  spe- 
cially given  to  the  Church  as  her  blessed 
hope,  and  I  wish  to  say  how  increasingly  im- 
portant that  doctrine  seems  to  me  to  become 
as  the  ages  are  running  to  their  close,  and  the 
power  of  the  great  adversary  is  unfolding  it- 
self both  in  the  Church  and  in  the  world. 
For  this  is  not  merely  '  man's  day,'  but 
'  Satan's  day,'  and  he  has  come  down,  hav- 
ing great  wrath,  because  he  knoweth  he  hath 
but  a  short  time.  The  poison  of  the  last  days 
has  penetrated  everywhere.  Unbelief,  error, 
strong  delusion,  self-will,  ambition,  pride, 
hatred  of  God  and  of  his  Christ — these  are 
the  deadly  forces  that  are  operating  all  over 
earth,  and  disintegrating  society,  making  all 
human  rule  impossible,  and  demonstrating 
the  necessity  for  the  arrival  of  Him  who  is  to 
end  all  these  overturnings,  and  to  introduce 
the  kingdom  of  peace,  the  reign  of  everlasting 
order."  Dr.  Bonar  was  not  a  pessimist,  but 
his  spiritual  vision  was  clear,  and  he  saw  the 
powerful  influence  that  the  world  has  over 
the  Church  to-day. 

494  "'The  Lamb's  Wife."  C.  M.  D. 

Bride  of  the  Lamb,  awake,  awake! 

Why  sleep  for  sorrow  now  ? 
The  hope  of  glory,  Christ,  is  thine, 

A  child  of  glor>'  thou. 


Thy  spirit,  through  the  lonely  night, 

From  earthly  joy  apart. 
Hath  sighed  for  one  that 's  far  away — 

The  Bridegroom  of  thy  heart. 

2  But  see!  the  night  is  waning  fast. 

The  breaking  morn  is  near  ; 
And  Jesus  comes,  with  voice  of  love. 

Thy  drooping  heart  to  cheer. 
Then  weep  no  more;  't  is  all  thine  own. 

His  crown,  his  joy  divine  ; 
And,  sweeter  far  than  all  beside. 

He,  he  himself  is  thine! 

Sir  Edward  Denny  here  appears  in  his  most 
thoroughly  characteristic  light.  In  most  of 
the  collections,  used  by  those  who  cherish  the 
hope  and  faith  that  our  Lord  will  return  per- 
sonally to  reign  on  the  earth  previous  to  the 
millennium,  his  contributions  appear.  But  he 
is  always  the  happiest,  the  most  spirited  and 
most  poetic,  when  he  is  singing  of  the  advent 
of  Jesus.  We  find  this  piece  in  his  Hym7ts 
for  the  Poor  of  the  Flock,  1837-8  ;  there  he 
has  given  to  it  the  title, "  The  Church  Cheered 
with  the  Hope  of  her  Lord's  Return,"  and  the 
reference  to  Solomon's  Song  2:14  for  a  mot- 
to-text. Dufifield  repeats  the  author's  quota- 
tion from  Lady  Powercourt's  Letters  :  "  Sent 
of  Jesus,  even  as  he  was  sent  of  the  Father, 
and  while  seeking  to  be  worthy  of  the  name 
put  upon  her,  may  she  remember  that  it  is 
not  of  herself  the  Bride  is  to  speak,  but  her 
object,  her  subject,  her  delight,  her  hope,  her 
only  resting-place,  is  her  Beloved — the  Bride- 
groom of  her  heart." 


495 


"  Behold,  I  come  quickly." 


C.  M.  D. 


Soon  will  the  heavenly  Bridegroom  come; 

Ye  wedding-guests,  draw  near, 
And  slumber  not  in  sin,  when  he. 

The  Son  of  God,  is  here! 
Come,  let  us  haste  to  meet  our  Lord, 

Ana  hail  him  with  delight ; 
Who  saved  us  by  his  precious  blood, 

And  sorrows  infinite ! 

2  Beside  him  all  the  patriarchs  old. 
And  holy  prophets  stand  ; 

The  glorious  apostolic  choir, 

And  noble  martyr  band. 
As  brethren  dear  they  welcome  us. 

And  lead  us  to  the  throne, 
Where  angels  bow  their  vailed  heads 

Before  the  Three  in  One  ! — 

3  Where  we,  with  all  the  saints  of  God, 
A  white-robed  multitude. 

Shall  praise  the  ascended  Lord,  who  deigns 

To  bear  our  flesh  and  blood  ! 
Our  lot  shall  be  for  aye  to  share 

His  reign  of  peace  above: 
.  And  drink,  with  unexhausted  joy, 

The  river  of  his  love. 

■  It  was  a  famous  German  "  Sangermeister," 
or  choirmaster,  who  wrote  the  original  of  this 
hymn.  His  name  was  Johann  Walther.  and  he 
was  born  in  1496  at  a  village  near  Cola  in  Thu- 
ringia.  He  was  a  member  of  the  orchestra  at 
the  Court  of  the  Elector  of  Saxony  in  1524, 
and  master  of  the  musicians  in  1526.     Later, 


COMING  AGAIN. 


221 


in  1534,  he  was  appointed  preceptor  in  singing 
in  the  school  at  Torgau.  Various  other  posi- 
tions in  the  musical  world  were  held  by  him, 
and  finally  he  was  pensioned  by  the  Govern- 
ment in  1 554,  and  died  at  Torgau  in  the  spring 
of  1 570.  Walther  was  better  known  as  a  mu- 
sician than  as  a  writer  of  hymns,  and  he  aided 
Martin  Luther  very  materially  in  his  adapta- 
tion of  the  old  church  music  to  the  needs  of 
the  Lutheran  service. 

The  English  version  now  before  us  was 
made  by  Rev.  Benjamin  Hall  Kennedy,  D.  D., 
who  published  it  in  1 863  in  his  Hymnologia 
Christiana  ;  or  Psalms  and  Hymns  Arranged 
in  the  order  of  the  Christian  Seasons.  This 
author  was  born  at  Summer  Hill,  near  Bir- 
mingham, England,  November  6,  1804.  His 
education  was  begun  at  King  Edward's 
School,  Birmingham,  and  continued  at 
Shrewsbury  School,  and  St.  John's  College, 
Cambridge,  from  which  he  graduated  in  1827. 
After  his  ordination  he  was  Prebendary  in 
Lichfield  Cathedral  and  rector  of  West  Fel- 
ton,  Salop.  He  held  a  number  of  prominent 
positions  both  in  literature  and  theology,  and 
was  the  compiler  of  several  volumes  of  hymns 
with  metrical  versions  of  the  Psalms.  He 
died  at  Torquay,  April  6,  1889. 


496 


"Come,  Lord  Jesus." 


C.  M.  D. 


Hope  of  our  hearts,  O  Lord,  appear, 

Thou  glorious  Star  of  day ! 
Shine  forth,  and  chase  the  dreary  night, 

With  all  our  tears,  away. 
No  resting-place  we  seek  on  earth, 

No  loveliness  we  see ; 
Our  eye  is  on  the  royal  crown, 

Prepared  for  us — and  thee ! 

2  But,  dearest  Lord,  however  bright 

That  crown  of  joy  above, 
What  is  it  to  the  brighter  hope 

Of  dwellin^^  in  thy  love? 
What  to  the  joy,  the  deeper  joy, 

Unniingled,  pure,  and  free, 
Of  union  with  our  living  Head, 

Of  fellowship  with  thee? 

Another  of  Sir  Edward  Denny's  longing 
prayers  for  the  coming  of  our  Lord,  taken 
also  from  Selection  of  Hymtis,  1839,  where  it 
is  entitled,  "  The  Church  Waiting  for  the  Son 
from  Heaven."  The  references  annexed  are 
L  Thessalonians  1:10;  and  4:16-18.  Our 
"  absent  Lord  "  is  surely  coming  back  again 
to  this  world.  He  predicted  his  second  ad- 
vent (John  14:28).  The  language  Jesus 
used  in  this  remembered  declaration  is  not  at 
all  figurative  ;  it  all  goes  together  as  a  state- 
ment of  fact.  He  said,  literally,  he  would 
send  the  Comforter,  and  the  Holy  Spirit  came 
in  person  on  the  Day  of  Pentecost.  And  just 
as  literally  did  he  say  he  would  himself  re- 
turn at  the  appointed  time. 


497  Your  descending  King.  C.  M. 

Lo !  WHAT  a  glorious  sight  appears 

To  our  believing  eyes ! 
The  earth  and  seas  are  passed  away, 

And  the  old  rolling  skies. 

2  From  the  third  heaven  where  God  resides — 
That  holy,  happy  place — 

The  New  Jerusalem  comes  down, 
Adorned  with  shining  grace. 

3  Attending  angels  shout  for  joy, 
And  the  bright  armies  sing — 

"  Mortals !  behold  the  sacred  seat 
Of  your  descending  King  : 

4  "  The  God  of  glory,  down  to  men, 
Removes  his  blest  abode; 

Men,  the  dear  objects  of  his  grace, 
And  he  their  loving  God  : 

5  "His  own  soft  hand  shall  wipe  the  tears 
From  every  weeping  eye ; 

And  pains,  and  groans,  and  griefs,  and  fears. 
And  death  itself  shall  die!" 

6  How  long,  dear  Saviour!  oh,  how  long 
Shall  this  bright  hour  delay  ? 

Fly  swifter  round,  ye  wheels  of  time! 
And  bring  the  welcome  day. 

One  of  the  oldest  and  best  of  our  Second 
Advent  hymns.  It  is  No.  21  of  Dr.  Isaac 
Watts'  Book  I.,  1707.  It  has  remained  un- 
altered all  these  years  with  its  grand  memo- 
ries of  the  past  and  its  beautiful  prospect  of 
the  future.  Sung  to  old  "  Northfield,"  the 
verses  have  filled  the  prayer-meetings  and 
monthly  concerts  with  enthusiasm  for  many 
generations  here  in  the  United  States.  It 
was  entitled  at  the  beginning  :  "A  vision  of 
the  Kingdom  of  Christ  Among  Men,"  and 
there  was  added  to  it  the  reference.  Revela- 
tion 21  : 1-4 :  "  And  I  saw  a  new  heaven  and 
a  new  earth  :  for  the  first  heaven  and  the  first 
earth  were  passed  away ;  and  there  was  no 
more  sea.  And  I,  John,  saw  the  holy  city, 
new  Jerusalem,  coming  down  from  God  out 
of  heaven,  prepared  as  a  bride  adorned  for 
her  husband.  And  I  heard  a  great  voice  out 
of  heaven  saying.  Behold,  the  tabernacle  of 
God  is  with  men,  and  he  will  dwell  with 
them,  and  they  shall  be  his  people,  and  God 
himself  shall  be  with  them,  and  be  their  God. 
And  God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  their 
eyes ;  and  there  shall  be  no  more  death,  nei- 
ther sorrow,  nor  crying,  neither  shall  there  be 
any  more  pain :  for  the  former  things  are 
passed  away." 

498  Messiah's  Reign.  C.  M. 

Behold,  the  mountain  of  the  Lord 

In  latter  days  shall  rise 
On  mountain  tops,  above  the  hills. 

And  draw  the  wondering  eyes. 

2  The  beam  that  shines  from  Zion's  hill 
Shall  lighten  every  land  : 

The  King  who  reigns  in  Salem's  towers 
Shall  all  the  world  command. 

3  No  strife  shall  vex  Messiah's  reign. 
Or  mar  the  peaceful  years ; 

To  ploughshares  men  shall  beat  their  swords, 
To  pruning-hooks  their  spears. 


THE   LORD  JESUS  CHRIST. 


Another  of  the  pieces  of  the  young  theo- 
logical student,  Michael  Bruce,  whose  early 
death  put  an  end  to  the  promise  of  usefulness 
which  his  hopeful  heart  had  cherished  and 
his  plucky  courage  had  sought  during  patient 
and  laborious  years  to  fulfill.  It  was  included 
among  the  selected  paraphrases  of  the  Scotch 
collections,  and  it  was  for  many  generations 
credited  to  his  false  friend  Logan,  who  ap- 
propriated his  work  and  took  his  fame.  It  is 
founded  upon  Isaiah  2:1-5;  indeed  it  is  al- 
most a  transcription  of  that  inspired  passage, 
exceedingly  well  done. 

499  "  Come,  blessed  Lord  .'"  C.  M. 

Light  of  the  lonely  pilgrim's  heart ! 

Star  of  the  coming  day  ! 
Arise,  and  with  thy  morning  beams 

Chase  all  our  griefs  away. 

2  Come,  blessed  Lord  !  let  every  shore 
And  answering  island  sing 

The  praises  of  thy  roval  name. 
And  own  thee  as  their  King. 

3  Jesus  !  thy  fair  creation  groans. 
The  air,  the  earth,  the  sea, 

In  unison  with  all  our  hearts, 
And  calls  aloud  for  thee. 

4  Thine  was  the  cross,  with  all  its  fruits 
Of  ^race  and  peace  divine ; 

Be  thine  the  crown  of  glory  now, 
The  palm  of  victory  thine. 

Once  more  we  select  a  song  from  Sir  Ed- 
ward Denny's  Hymns  atid Poems,  1848.  It  is 
entitled, "  The  Heart  Watching  for  the  Morn- 
ing." It  is  not  fair  to  look  on  Jestis  as  a  mere 
absentee  lord  of  the  soil.  For  he  made  this 
world ;  he  has  suffered  wonderfully  to  save 
souls ;  and  he  owns  what  he  has  purchased. 
It  must  be  remembered  that  he  went  away 
for  a  most  gracious  purpose.  He  would  send 
the  Comforter  (John  16:7).  He  has  gone  to 
prepare  a  "  place  "  for  those  whom  he  died  to 
redeem  (John  14:2,  3).  It  is  better  to  urge 
his  coming  back  with  eagerness  of  prayer. 
There  is  fitness  in  the  passionate  words  of 
Richard  Baxter  :  "  Haste,  O  my  Saviour,  the 
time  of  thy  return :  send  forth  thy  angels,  let 
the  last  trumpet  sound  !  Delay  not,  lest  the 
living  give  up  hope.  Oh,  hasten  that  great 
resurrection  day  when  the  seed  thou  sowedst 
corruptible  shall  come  forth  incorruptible,  and 
the  graves  that  retain  but  dust  shall  return 
their  glorious  ones,  thy  destined  bride  !" 


500 


"  How  long,  O  Lord  !" 


S.  M.  D. 


The  Church  has  waited  long 

Her  absent  Lord  to  see; 
And  still  in  loneliness  she  waits, 

A  friendless  stranger  she. 
How  long,  O  Lord  our  God, 

Holy  and  true  and  good, 
Wilt  thou  not  judge  thy  suffering  Church, 

Her  sighs  and  tears  and  blood  ? 


2  Saint  after  saint  on  earth 
Has  lived  and  loved  and  died  ; 

And  as  they  left  us,  one  by  one. 

We  laid  them  side  by  side. 
We  laid  them  down  to  sleep. 

But  not  in  hope  forlorn  ; 
We  laid  them  but  to  ripen  there, 

Till  the  last  glorious  morn. 

3  We  long  to  hear  thy  voice. 
To  see  thee  face  to  face, 

To  share  thy  crown  and  glory  then. 

As  now  we  share  thy  grace. 
Come,  Lord,  and  wipe  away 

The  curse,  the  sin,  the  stain, 
And  make  this  blighted  world  of  ours 

Thine  own  fair  world  again. 

Another  of  Dr.  Horatius  Bonar's  Hymns 
of  Faith  and  Hope.  It  was  written  in  1844, 
President  Woolsey's  comment  upon  Mark 
13:32  is  worth  studying :  "  '  But  of  that  day 
or  that  hour  knoweth  no  one,  not  even  the 
angels  in  heaven,  neither  the  Son,  but  the 
Father.'  This  is  not  in  Luke;  but  in  Mat- 
thew, in  the  text  followed  by  the  Authorized 
Version,  it  stood  '  knoweth  no  tnan  (that  is, 
no  one),  no,  not  the  angels  in  heaven,  but  my 
Father  only,'  where  nor  the  Son  was  wanting 
in  the  manuscripts  used.  In  the  Revised 
Version,  however,  neither  the  Son  is  added 
by  the  oldest  manuscripts,  as  it  always  stood 
in  Mark. — '  But  of  that  day  or  that  hour.'  In 
Matthew,  'that  day  and  hour;'  that  is,  the 
prdcise  time  when  it  shall  come  to  pass. — 
'  Neither  the  Son,  but  the  Father.'  Here  there 
is  a  gradation  from  the  angels  upward  to  the 
Son,  and  from  him  to  the  Father.  From  his 
nature  and  intimate  union  with  the  Father,  he 
might  be  expected  to  know  when  that  day 
should  arrive ;  but  he  denies  the  knowledge, 
and  that  for  the  purpose,  it  would  seem,  of 
showing  to  them  that,  if  he  does  not  know, 
much  more  ought  they  not  to  expect  to  know. 
He  knew  the  events,  and  when  they  would 
happen,  but  not  the  exact  date.  This  pas- 
sage has  had  to  bear  a  great  variety  of  inter- 
pretations to  bring  it  into  formulas  of  theolo- 
gy. Many  of  them  are  scarcely  honest.  It 
is  better  to  say  that,  when  the  Word  emptied 
himself,  and  took  upon  him  the  form  of  a  ser- 
vant, he  subjected  himself  to  limitations ;  he 
was  tempted ;  he  prayed  to  the  Father ;  he 
learned  by  experience ;  he  cried,  '  If  it  be  pos- 
sible, let  this  cup  pass  from  me,'  as  if  the 
Father  were  the  judge  of  the  possibility ;  his 
compassion  was  aroused  by  what  he  saw,  and 
so  had  a  change  of  feelings.  And  yet  he 
knew  men,  not  by  his  sagacity  only,  but  by 
the  wisdom  of  his  higher  nature,  and  had 
every  power  and  knowledge  beyond  human 
proportions,  when  it  was  necessary  for  the 
discharge  of  his  great  office.  And  the  very 
fact  that  he  had  such  a  nature  forbids  wise 
Christians  to  try  to  explain  it  minutely," 


COMING   AGAIN. 


225 


501 


"  Thy  kingdom  come .'" 


Come,  kingdom  of  our  God, 

Sweet  reign  of  light  and  love  ! 
Shed  peace  and  hope  and  joy  abroad, 

Ana  wisdom  from  above. 
Over  our  spirits  first 

Extend  thy  healing  reign  ; 
There  raise  and  quench  the  sacred  thirst 

That  never  pains  again. 

2  Come,  kingdom  of  our  God  ! 

And  make  the  broad  earth  thine ; 
Stretch  o'er  her  lands  and  isles  the  rod 

That  flowers  with  grace  divine. 
Soon  may  all  tribes  be  blest 

With  fruit  from  life's  glad  tree ; 
And  in  its  shade  like  brothers  rest, 

Sons  of  one  family. 

In  1837  this  piece  was  contributed  to 
Beard's  Collection  of  Unitarian  hymns,  pub- 
Hshed  in  Manchester,  England,  where  it  was 
made  up  of  five  stanzas  of  four  lines  each,  and 
was  entitled,  "  Prayer  for  the  Kingdom  of 
God."  It  is  to  be  found  also  in  many  other 
collections  both  in  Great  Britain  and  Amer- 
ica. 

Rev.  John  Johns,  who  composed  it,  was 
born  at  Plymouth,  England,  March  17,  1801. 
He  received  his  education  partly  at  the  gram- 
mar school  and  partly  from  the  Unitarian 
minister  in  the  town,  and  then  spent  two 
years  in  Edinburgh.  His  first  charge  was 
that  of  the  old  Presbyterian  Chapel  at  Credi- 
ton.  Here  he  remained  from  1820  to  1836, 
when  he  went  to  Liverpool  as  Minister  to  the 
Poor.  He  labored  untiringly  among  his  peo- 
ple, and  died  of  a  fever,  June  23,  1847.  He 
wrote  three  volumes  of  poetry,  and  was  a  con- 
tributor to  a  number  of  religious  periodicals. 

502  Philippians  2:  lo,  11.  S.  M.  D. 

O  THOU  whom  we  adore ! 

To  bless  our  earth  a^ain, 
Assume  thine  own  almighty  power, 

And  o'er  the  nations  reign. 
The  world's  Desire  and  Hope, 

All  power  to  thee  is  given  ; 
Now  set  the  last  great  empire  up, 

Eternal  Lord  of  heaven ! 

2  A  gracious  Saviour,  thou 

Wilt  all  thy  creatures  bless : 
And  every  knee  to  thee  shall  bow, 

And  every  tongue  confess. 
According  to  thy  word, 

Now  be  thy  grace  revealed  ; 
And  with  the  knowledge  of  the  Lord 

Let  all  the  earth  be  filled. 

There  is  in  existence  a  small  pamphlet  of 
less  than  fifty  pages  written  by  Rev.  Charles 
Wesley  in  1782,  and  yet  not  specified  or  de- 
scribed in  his  biography.  It  was  entitled, 
Hymns  for  the  Nation.  It  seems  likely  that 
it  contained  some  patriotic  songs  for  the 
British  people,  who  were  then  in  the  stress  of 
conflict  with  the  American  colonies,  and 
wanting  solace.  In  this  little  collection  the 
present  hymn  was  found,  with  the  motto  at 
the  head  of  it,  "  On  the  American  War." 


S.  M.  D.       503  "  Come,  Lord  Jesus." 

Come,  Lord,  and  tarry  not ! 

Bring  the  long-looked-for  day ; 
Oh,  why  these  years  of  waiting  here, 

These  ages  of  delay  ? 

2  Come,  for  thy  saints  still  wait ; 
Daily  ascends  their  sigh  ; 

The  Spirit  and  the  Bride  say,  Come! 
Dost  thou  not  hear  the  cry? 

3  Come,  for  creation  groans, 
Impatient  of  thy  stay, 

Worn  out  with  these  long  years  of  ill. 
These  ages  of  delay. 

4  Come,  and  make  all  things  new. 
Build  up  this  ruined  earth, 

Restore  our  faded  paradise — 
Creation's  second  birth. 

5  Come,  and  begin  thy  reign 
Of  everlasting  peace; 

Come,  take  the  kingdom  to  thyself, 
Great  King  of  Righteousness ! 


In  the  first  series  of  Hymns  of  Faith  and 
Hope,  1857,  by  Rev.  Horatius  Bonar,  D.  D., 
there  is  a  poem  with  fourteen  stanzas,  bearing 
the  motto,  "  Senuit  mundus :  Augustine." 
From  this  the  verses  of  the  present  hymn 
have  been  chosen.  Dr.  William  C.  Prime  re- 
lates an  interesting  personal  reminiscence  of 
Dr.  Bonar : 

"One  dark  night  in  the  year  1856,  in  the 
earthly  city  Jerusalem,  I  wandered  into  a 
lighted  mission-room  on  Mount  Zion,  where  a 
small  com.pany  of  men  and  women  of  various 
nationalities  and  complexions  were  gathered. 
In  the  desk  -was  a  man  of  impressive  counte- 
nance, whose  voice  seemed  to  me  remarkably 
forcible,  though  low  and  musical.  Musical  to 
me  at  least,  because  in  my  childhood  I  was 
surrounded  by  Scotch  people,  and  in  my  fa- 
ther's house  was  always  familiar  with  the 
voices  of  mighty  men  of  the  Scotch  Church  in 
America,  such  men  as  Bullions  and  Proudfit 
and — why  name  them  }  Are  not  their  names 
recorded  in  the  rolls  of  the  saints,  who  after 
the  war  have  had  honor  and  refreshment  and 
rest  in  the  times  of  eternal  peace  !  Very  me- 
lodious in  my  ears  are  the  tones  of  any  voices, 
however  harsh  to  some  ears,  which  remind 
me  of  those  gentle  yet  stalwart  champions  of 
the  faith. 

"  The  preacher,  as  I  learned  later,  was  Dr. 
Horatius  Bonar.  Learned  and  eloquent,  there 
was  a  wonderful  charm  in  what  he  said  that 
night,  because  he  had  strong  convictions  on 
that  subject  of  much  speculation,  the  second 
coming  of  the  Lord.  He  believed  in  his  per- 
sonal coming,  to  reign  on  the  earth.  And 
his  faith,  seconded  by  his  rich  poetic  imagina- 
tion and  fervor,  all  quickened  by  the  fact  that 
we  were  in  Jerusalem,  the  city  of  the  Passion, 
the  Crucifixion,  the  Resurrection,  the  city  on 


•^    224 


THE    LORD   JESUS   CHRIST. 


which  every  morning  the  dawn  broke  over 
the  mountain  of  the  Ascension — these  gave  to 
his  words  a  winning  power  which  you  may 
imagine,  but  which  I  cannot  describe.  He 
had  no  idea  of  any  specific  time  for  the  ad- 
vent. He  did  not  argue,  nor  was  there  a 
controversial  word  in  all  that  he  said.  He 
only  gave  himself  up,  and  gave  us  up  too, 
to  the  scene  which  shall  be  sooner  or  later, 
W'hen  the  King  shall  come  again  to  walk  in 
the  streets  of  his  abasement,  when  the  efful- 
gence of  the  light  that  will  darken  the  sun- 
light shall  attend  him  from  the  Garden  of 
Gethsemane  to  the  judgment  seats  of  Herod 
and  Pilate,  and  along  the  Via  Dolorosa  to 
Calvary  and  the  rock-hewn  tomb. 

"  To  hear  such  a  man  in  Jerusalem,  having 
a  firm  belief  in  the  personal  coming  and  reign 
of  Christ,  thus  communicate  to  others  freely 
his  confident  hopes  and  imaginings,  was  a 
memorable  event.  In  the  course  of  the  next 
few  days  I  was  happy  in  making  the  personal 
acquaintance  of  Dr.  Bonar,  and  from  day  to 
day  was  led  to  admire  and  honor — I  had 
almost  said  revere — him." 

504  The  hidden  Life.  S.  M. 

OvK  life  is  hid  with  Christ, 

With  Christ  in  God  aHove; 
Upward  our  heart  would  go  to  him 

VV'hom,  seeing  not,  we  love. 

2  When  he  who  is  our  life 
Appears,  to  take  the  throne, 

We  too  shall  be  revealed,  and  shine 
In  glory  like  his  own. 

3  He  liveth,  and  we  live! 
His  life  for  us  prevails: 

His  fullness  fills  our  mighty  void, 
His  strength  for  us  avails. 

4  Life  worketh  in  us  now, 
Life  is  for  us  in  store ; 

So  death  is  swallowed  up  of  life ; 
We  live  for  evermore. 

5  Like  him  we  then  shall  be. 
Transformed  and  glorified : 

For  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is. 
And  in  his  light  abide. 

This  poem  by  Dr.  Horatius  Bonar  was  first 
published  in  his  Hymns  of  Faith  and  Hope, 
Third  Series,  1867,  with  the  title  "Life  in 
Christ."  It  is  filled  with  a  joyous  anticipa- 
tion of  the  second  appearing  of  our  Lord,  and 
the  resurrection  unto  life  eternal,  which  will 
give  back  to  us  those  who  have  fallen  asleep 
in  Jesus.  In  a  notable  series  of  verses,  ad- 
dressed to  the  church  in  Thessalonica,  the 
apostle  Paul  takes  pains  to  meet  a  manifest 
anxiety  on  this  head.  "  But  I  would  not  have 
you  to  be  ignorant,  brethren,  concerning  them 
which  are  asleep,  that  ye  sorrow  not,  even  as 
others  which  have  no  hope.  For  if  we  be- 
lieve that  Jesus  died  and  rose  again,  even  so 


them  also  which  sleep  in  Jesus  will  God 
bring  with  him."  There  is  great  significance 
in  this  ;  for  we  must  remember  that  the  first 
Epistle  to  the  Thessalonians  is  the  oldest 
thing  in  the  New  Testament.  Evidently  the 
earliest  matter  of  discussion  among  the  im- 
mediate followers  of  the  risen  Redeemer  was 
concerning  the  state  and  future  faring  of  the 
pious  dead.  Why  not  study  up  all  we  can 
know  upon  this  subject }  Paul  says  he  would 
not  have  those  people  ignorant.  It  is  folly 
and  wilfulness  to  insist  that  all  disquisitions 
in  this  direction  end  in  extravagance.  When 
one  is  simply  invited  to  notice  that  all  the 
Scripture  wTiters  appear  to  look  upon  the 
Saviour's  advent  as  very  near,  even  in  their 
time,  it  does  not  seem  either  fair  or  relevant 
to  begin  laughing  at  those  who  have  spent 
their  time  trying  to  find  out  what  "  man  "  six 
hundred  and  sixty-six  was  the  "  number  "  of. 
Prophecy  is  a  different  thing  from  eschatol- 

ogy- 

505  The  final  Judgment.  S.  M. 

And  will  the  Juda;e  descend. 

And  must  the  cJead  arise, 
And  not  a  single  soul  escape 

His  all-discerning  eyes? 

2  How  will  my  heart  endure 
The  terrors  of  that  day, 

When  earth  and  heaven  before  his  face 
Astonished  shrink  away? 

3  But,  ere  the  trumpet  shakes 
The  mansions  of  the  dead, 

Hark,  from  the  Gospel's  cheering  sound 
What  joyful  tidings  spread! 

4  Ye  sinners !  seek  his  grace 

•   Whose  wrath  ye  cannot  bear ; 
Fly  to  the  shelter  of  his  cross. 
And  find  salvation  there. 

"  The  Final  Sentence  and  Misery  of  the 
Wicked :"  this  was  the  title  which  Dr.  Philip 
Doddridge  gave  to  his  hymn.  He  added  also 
as  a  reference  the  text  Matthew  25  :  41.  The 
appeal  is  very  solemn  as  he  urges  it  in  the 
final  verse.  The  instinctive  tendency  of  the 
human  heart  is  to  procrastinate  in  the  per- 
formance of  religious  work.  So,  when  the 
reckoning  is  demanded,  souls  are  surprised. 
If  all  the  good  resolutions  that  have  been 
made  by  members  of  the  church  of  God  had 
been  executed  in  their  due  time,  the  millen- 
nial glory  would  long  ago  have  gleamed  on 
every  hill  and  shone  in  every  valley.  Time 
glides  mysteriously  on  with  no  reference  to 
daring  delay.  The  grave",  like  the  horse- 
leech's daughter,  cries.  Give  (Prov.  30:15, 
16),  and  damnation  slumbereth  not  (2  Peter 
2:3),  but  men  sleep  clear  up  to  the  edge  of 
divine  judgment.  They  did  in  Noah's  time, 
and  in  Lot's,  when  a  less  catastrophe  was  at 


COMING  AGAIN. 


>25 


hand  ;  and  so  it  will  be  when  the  Son  of  man 
is  revealed  (Luke  i8  :  26-30).  Christians 
ought  to  hold  in  memory  the  repeated  ad- 
monitions they  have  received.  Walter  Scott 
wrote  on  his  dial-plate  the  two  Greek  words 
which  mean  "  the  night  cometh,"  so  that  he 
might  keep  eternity  in  mind  whenever  he  saw 
the  hours  of  time  flitting  by.  Evidently  the 
apostle  Paul  feels  that  he  has  the  right  to 
press  peculiarly  pertinent  and  solemn  appeals 
upon  those  who  had  enjoyed  the  advantage 
of  such  long  instruction  (I.  Thessalonians 
5  :  1-7).  There  is  no  second  chance  offered 
after  the  first  is  lost. 


506 


The  Tribunal. 


C.  P.  M. 


When  thou,  my  righteous  Judge,  shall  come 
To  take  thy  ransomed  people  home, 

Shall  I  among  them  stand  ? 
Shall  such  a  worthless  worm  as  I, 
Who  sometimes  am  afraid  to  die, 

Be  found  at  thy  right  hand  ? 

2  I  love  to  meet  thy  people  now. 
Before  thy  feet  with  them  to  bow. 

Though  vilest  of  them  all; 
But,  can  I  bear  the  piercing  thought. 
What  if  my  name  should  be  left  out, 

When  thou  for  them  shalt  call? 

3  O  Lord,  prevent  it  by  thy  grace, 
Be  thou  my  only  hiding-place. 

In  this  the  accepted  day ; 
Thy  pardoning  voice,  oh,  let  me  hear, 
To  still  my  unoelieving  fear, 

Nor  let  me  fall,  I  pray. 

4  Among  thy  saints  let  me  be  found. 
Whene'er  the  archangel's  trump  shall  sound. 

To  see  thy  smiling  face  ; 
Then  loudest  of  the  throng  I  '11  sing. 
While  heaven's  resounding  mansions  ring 

With  shouts  of  sovereign  grace. 

Selina,  Countess  of  Huntingdon,  was  born 
on  August  24,  1707,  being  the  second  daugh- 
ter of  Washington  Shirley,  Earl  Ferrers. 
This  ancient  family  traced  its  pedigree  up  to 
the  reign  of  Edward  the  Confessor,  and  had 
been  allied  to  the  royal  family  of  England  by 
marriage.  As  a  very  young  child  the  little 
Selina  was  very  thoughtful,  and  accustomed 
herself  to  pray  over  every  difficulty  and  worry. 
At  nine  years  of  age  she  was  much  impressed 
by  the  spectacle  of  a  child's  funeral,  and,  fall- 
ing on  her  knees,  she  offered  up  an  earnest 
supplication  that  her  last  hour  might  be  a 
happy  one.  This  serious  spirit  distinguished 
her  during  all  those  early  years  of  girlhood 
and  young  womanhood. 

Lady  Selina  Shirley  was  married  to  The- 
ophilus,  Earl  of  Huntingdon,  in  June,  1728, 
and  still  exemplified  in  her  changed  position 
the  same  serious  habits.  She  attended  to  the 
wants  of  the  poor  on  her  husband's  estates, 
statedly  performed  her  religious  duties  in 
private,  and  constantly  attended  on  public 
worship.      She  was  presented  at  court  and 


took  some  part  in  the  fashionable  amuse- 
ments of  the  day,  but  never  with  any  real 
relish.  She  always  felt  too  deeply  the  re- 
sponsibilities of  existence  to  do  this,  and 
strove  to  work  out  her  own  salvation  thus, 
"  with  fear  and  trernbling." 

But  the  light  of  evangelical  truth  was  to 
dawn  on  her  heart  and  life.  The  preaching 
of  Whitefield  and  the  Wesleys  became  mat- 
ter of  public  notoriety  and  wonder,  and  the 
ladies  of  the  house  of  Hastings,  the  Countess' 
sisters-in-law,  hastened  to  listen  to  the  new 
doctrines.  Lady  Margaret  Hastings  first  re- 
ceived the  truth  "  in  the  love  of  it,"  and  hesi- 
tated not  to  use  her  influence  with  Lady 
Huntingdon  to  lead  her  in  the  same  path. 
In  conversation,  one  day,  the  former  lady 
remarked  that,  "  since  she  had  known  and 
believed  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  for  life  and 
salvation  she  had  been  as  happy  as  an  angel." 
The  Countess  pondered  over  this  continually, 
and,  feeling  more  and  more  her  sinful  and 
lost  condition  before  God,  strove"  to  effect  a 
reconciliation  to  him  by  her  own  works  and 
self-denying  austerities.  She  practiced  these 
for  some  time,  seeking  justification  by  them  ; 
but  the  more  she  strove  the  morefshe  felt  how 
sinful  and  unworthy  she  was  before  the  eyes 
of  him  who  reads  the  secrets  of  all  hearts. 

Shortly  after  this  she  fell  dangerously  ill, 
and  was  brought  to  the  brink  of  the  grave. 
Death  became  a  terror  to  her,  and  the  moral- 
ity and  good  works  upon  which  she  had 
hitherto  relied  now  presented  themselves  to 
her  mind  as  "  sandy  foundations."  "  Her 
best  righteousness,"  says  her  biographer, 
"  now  appeared  to  be  but '  filthy  rags/  which, 
so  far  from  justifying  her  before  God,  .in- 
creased her  condemnation.  The  remorse 
which  before  attended  conscience  on  account 
of  sin,  respected  only  the  outward  actions  of 
her  life  ;  but  now  she  saw  that  her  heart  was 
'  deceitful  above  all  things,  and  desperately 
wicked,'  that '  all  have  sinned  and  come  short 
of  the  glory  of  God,'  and  that  '  the  thoughts 
of  man's  heart  are  only  evil  continually.'' 
When  upon  the  point  of  perishing  the  words 
of  Lady  Margaret  came  again  to  mind,  and 
she  felt  an  earnest  desire,  renouncing  every 
other  hope,  to  cast  herself  wholly  upon  Christ 
for  life  and  salvation.  From  her  bed  she 
lifted  up  her  heart  to  the  Saviour  with  this 
prayer,  and  immediately  all  her  distress  and 
fears  were  removed,  and  she  was  filled  with 
joy  and  peace  in  believing." 

With  the  dawn  of  new  peace  and  marvel- 
ous blessedness  came  a  sense  of  new  respon- 
sibilities and  important  duties.  Lady  Hunt- 
ingdon never  dreamed  of  being  ashamed  of 

15 


226 


THE   LORD  JESUS   CHRIST. 


her  Lord  and  Master,  or  of  hiding  under  a 
bushel  the  gift  she  had  received.  She  de- 
termined to  become  more  self-denying,  more 
charitable,  more  constant  in  good  works,  and 
more  earnest  for  the  salvation  of  others.  As 
soon  as  she  rose  from  her  bed  of  sickness  she 
sent  a  message  to  the  Wesleys,  assuring  them 
of  her  sympathy  with  them,  and  of  her  desire 
to  cooperate  with  them  in  the  glorious  work 
of  saving  sinners.  She  also  attended  closely 
on  Whitefield's  ministry. 

In  1764  a  collection  was  published  for  use 
in  the  chapels  which  had  been  founded  by  the 
Countess  of  Huntingdon.  Several  hymns  com- 
posed by  this  lady  were  contained  in  this,  but 
unfortunately  the  list  of  them  does  not  now 
exist.  Almost  the  only  one  of  her  authorship 
which  still  is  kept  in  use  is  that  just  now  un- 
der our  eyes.  It  does  not  appear  in  the  earli- 
est editions  of  the  hymn-book  she  approved. 
It  is  found  in  one  edition,  but  that  is  without 
date.  In  the  various  issues  along  the  years 
sometimes  the  editor  put  it  in,  and  sometimes 
the  next  editor  left  it  out.  And  once  or  twice 
it  is  credited  to  some  other  writer.  But  now 
hymnologists  accept  it  as  hers.  In  November, 

1 790,  when  the  Countess  had  passed  her  eighty- 
third  birthday,  she  broke  a  blood-vessel,  and 
was  in  imminent  danger  of  speedy  death.  But 
she  was  quite  patient,  collected,  and  happy. 
"  All  is  well — well  for  ever,"  she  said  to  her 
friends,  who  collected  in  alarm  round  her. 
She  was  then  residing  at  Spafields,  London, 
and,  although  reduced  to  very  feeble  health, 
she  employed  herself  much  in  planning  mis- 
sionary undertakings  to  the  heathen,  as  well 
as  in  her  ministerial  engagements  at  home. 
She  recovered  somewhat  from  this  attack, 
lived  through  the  winter,  but  died  June  17, 

1 791,  and  was  interred  at  Ashby-de-la-Zouch. 

507  Isaiah  52  : 1.  7s,  6s.  D. 

Awake,  awake,  O  Zion, 

Put  on  thy  strength  divine, 
Thy  garments  bright  in  beauty, 

The  bridal  dress  be  thine: 
Jerusalem  the  holy, 

To  purity  restored : 
Meek  Bride  all  fair  and  lowly, 

Go  forth  to  meet  thy  Lord. 

2  From  henceforth  pure  and  spotless, 
All  glorious  within. 

Prepared  to  meet  the  Bridegroom, 
And  cleansed  from  ever>'  sin ; 

With  love  and  wonder  smitten, 
And  bowed  in  guileless  shame. 

Upon  thy  heart  be  written 
The  new  mysterious  name. 

3  The  Lamb  who  bore  our  sorrows 
Comes  down  to  earth  again ; 

No  sufferer  now,  but  victor. 

For  evermore  to  reign : 
To  reign  in  every  nation, 

To  rule  in  every  zone, 
Oh,  world-wide  coronation, 

In  every  heart  a  throne. 


4  Awake,  awake,  O  2ion, 

Thy  bridal  day  draws  nigh, 
The  day  of  signs  and  wonders. 

And  mar\els  from  on  high. 
The  sun  uprises  slowly. 

But  keep  thy  watch  and  ward : 
Fair  Bride,  all  pure  and  lowly, 

Go  forth  to  meet  thy  Lord. 

Benjamin  Gough  was  born  in  Southborough, 
Kent,  England,  in  1805,  and  entered  business 
life  early.  For  many  years  he  was  a  merchant 
in  London.  Belonging  to  the  Wesleyan  com- 
munion, it  was  considered  proper  for  him  to 
be  a  layman  and  yet  exercise  the  office  of  a 
lay  preacher.  He  wrote  a  number  of  hymns, 
of  more  or  less  merit,  which  he  gathered  to- 
gether and  published  in  1865  in  a  volume  en- 
titled Lyra  Sabbatica.  In  this  the  piece  now 
before  us  was  included  ;  it  had  for  its  theme, 
"  The  Coming  Millennium."  After  he  retired 
from  business,  Mr.  Gough  resided  for  some 
years  in  Faversham,  where  he  died,  November 
28,  1877. 

508  "  Your  lamps  trimmed."  7s,  6s.  D. 

Rejoice,  rejoice,  believers ! 

And  let  your  lights  appear; 
The  shades  of  eve  are  thickening, 

And  darker  night  is  near ; 
The  Bridegroom  is  advancing ; 

Each  hour  he  draws  more  nigh ; 
Up !  watch  and  pray,  nor  slumber ; 

At  midnight  comes  the  cr>-. 

2  See  that  your  lamps  are  burning, 
Your  vessels  filled  with  oil ; 

Wait  calmly  your  deliverance 

From  earthly  pain  and  toil ; 
The  watchers  on  the  mountains 

Proclaim  the  Bridegroom  near ; 
Go,  meet  him,  as  he  cometh, 

With  hallelujahs  clear. 

3  Our  hope  and  expectation, 
O  Jesus,  now  appear ! 

Arise,  thou  sun  so  looked-for, 

O'er  this  benighted  sphere  ! 
With  hearts  and  hands  uplifted, 

We  plead,  O  Lord,  to  see 
The  day  of  our  redemption. 

And  ever  be  with  thee. 

Another  of  the  translations  from  the  Ger- 
man given  us  in  Hymns  from  the  Land  of 
Luther,  First  Series,  1854.  In  this  instance  it 
seems  to  be  understood  that  Mrs.  Sarah  Find- 
later  did  the  literary  work,  and  indeed  it  is 
well  done.  The  original  hymn  begins,  Er- 
muntert  euch,  ihr  Frommen,  and  it  is  by 
Laurentius  Laurenti.  It  is  founded,  of  course, 
upon  the  parable  of  the  Ten  Virgins  (Matthew 
25  : 1-13),  and  it  pictures  with  unusual  vigor 
and  measure  of  detail  that  scene  described  so 
vividly  by  our  Lord. 


509  The  Lamb's  Bridal. 

The  marriage  feast  is  ready. 
The  marriage  of  the  Lamb, 

He  calls  the  faithful  children 
Of  faithful  Abraham : 


7s,  6s.  D. 


COMING  AGAIN. 


227 


Now  from  the  golden  portals 
The  sounds  of  triumph  ring; 

The  triumph  of  the  Victor, 
The  marriage  of  the  King. 

2  Nor  sigh  nor  sorrow  enter 
Where  Jesus  leads  them  in  ; 

Nor  death  may  cross  the  threshold, 
Nor  pain,  nor  fear,  nor  sin  : 

Now  shades  of  night  and  darkness 
Are  past  and  fled  away. 

Before  the  radiant  brightness 
Of  everlasting  day. 

3  No  tear-drops  stain  that  threshold, 
No  weeping  eyes  are  there ; 

For  God  hath  wiped  all  tear-drops. 
And  God  hath  stilled  all  care : 

The  sunlight  of  the  Presence, 
The  bright  Shechinah-flame, 

Lights  up  the  bridal  banquet 
Of  God  and  of  the  Lamb. 


This  hymn  was  written  by  Rev.  Gerard 
Moultrie,  and  was  published  in  The  Primer 
set  forth  at  large  for  the  use  of  the  Faithful, 
1 864.  It  is  a  most  cheerful  and  exhilarating 
song  of  hope.  The  sentiment  is  designed  to 
offset  the  horror  of  some  people  in  view  of  the 
judgment.  It  argues  a  low  state  of  piety 
for  one  to  grow  shocked  and  alarmed  at  the 
thought  of  Christ's  second  advent.  It  might 
clear  an  inquirer's  experience  to  think  of  this 
coming  of  Jesus.  Does  one  love  to  "  watch  " 
for  him .''  In  the  autobiography  of  Frances 
Ridley  Havergal  we  are  told  of  the  years 
during  which  she  sought  sadly  for  peace  at 
the  cross.  At  last  one  of  her  teachers  put 
this  question  to  her  :  "  Why  cannot  you  trust 
yourself  to  your  Saviour  at  once  }  Supposing 
that  now,  at  this  moment,  Christ  were  to 
come  in  the  clouds  of  heaven,  and  take  up  his 
redeemed,  could  you  not  trust  him  ?  Would 
not  his  call,  his  promise,  be  enough  for  you .'' 
Could  you  not  commit  your  soul  to  him,  to 
your  Saviour,  Jesus  ?"  This  lifted  the  cloud ; 
she  tells  the  story  herself :  "  Then  came  a 
flash  of  hope  across  rhe  which  made  me  feel 
literally  breathless.  I  remember  how  my 
heart  beat.  '  I  could  ?,\xx Ay  '  was  my  response ; 
and  I  left  her  suddenly  and  ran  away  up  stairs 
to  think  it  out.  I  flung  myself  on  my  knees 
in  my  room  and  strove  to  realize  the  sudden 
hope.  I  was  very  happy  at  last.  I  could 
commit  my  soul  to  Jesus.  I  did  not,  and 
need  not,  fear  his  coming.  I  could  trust  him 
with  my  all  for  eternity.  It  was  so  utterly 
new  to  have  any  bright  thoughts  about  reli- 
gion that  I  could  hardly  believe  it  could  be 
so,  that  I  had  really  gained  such  a  step. 
Then  and  there  I  committed  my  soul  to  the 
Saviour,  I  do  not  mean  to  say  without  any 
trembling  or  fear,  but  I  did — and  earth  and 
heaven  seemed  bright  from  that  moment — / 
did  trust  the  Lord  Jesus." 


510  Isaiah  21 :  II .  7s.  D. 

Watchman,  tell  us  of  the  night. 

What  its  signs  of  promise  are. 
Traveler,  o'er  yon  mountain's  height, 

See  that  glor>-beaming  star! 
Watchman,  does  its  beauteous  ray 

Aught  of  joy  or  hope  foretell? 
Traveler,  yes  :  it  brings  the  day. 

Promised  day  of  Israel. 

2  Watchman,  tell  us  of  the  night : 
Higher  yet  that  star  ascends. 

Traveler,  blessedness  and  light, 
Peace  and  truth,  its  course  portends. 

Watchman,  will  its  beams  alone 
Gild  the  spot  that  gave  them  birth? 

Traveler,  ages  are  its  own  ; 
See !  it  bursts  o'er  all  the  earth ! 

3  Watchman,  tell  us  of  the  night. 
For  the  morning  seems  to  dawn. 

Traveler,  darkness  takes  its  flight, 
Doubt  and  terror  are  withdrawn. 

Watchman,  let  thy  wanderings  cease; 
Hie  thee  to  thy  quiet  home. 

Traveler,  lo!  the  Prince  of  Peace, 
Lo!  the  Son  of  God  is  come! 

Perhaps  no  piece  can  be  found  which  is 
more  familiar  to  the  American  churches  than 
this  of  Sir  John  Bowring,  included  in  his 
Hymns,  1825.  Every  man  seems  to  think  he 
understands  it,  and  gives  a  force  to  its  chal- 
lenge in  the  direction  of  missionary  effort  at 
once.  The  brief  prediction  in  Isaiah  21  : 
II,  1 2,  is,  however,  one  of  the  most  obscure 
in  the  Bible.  The  entire  prophecy  is  con- 
tained in  two  verses  of  the  chapter,  and  ap- 
pears to  bear  no  relation  to  what  goes  before 
it  or  what  follows.  But  the  image  it  pre- 
sents is  singularly  dramatic  and  picturesque. 
The  scene  is  laid  in  the  midst  of  the  Baby- 
lonish captivity.  A  lonely  watchman  is  rep- 
resented as  standing  on  the  ramparts  of  some 
tower  along  the  defences  of  the  citadel.  He 
seems  to  be  anxiously  looking  for  the  issues 
of  the  siege  leveled  against  it.  The  time  is 
midnight.  Calamity  is  over  the  land.  The 
people  are  afflicted.  Their  enemies  are  press- 
ing them  hard.  That  solitary  sentinel  sadly 
remains  at  his  post,  peering  into  the  unlit 
gloom,  trying  to  discern  signs  of  deliverance. 
But  the  heavens  are  starless  and  the  impene- 
trable clouds  keep  rolling  on.  Suddenly  an 
unknown  voice  pierces  the  air.  Whether  in 
wailing  sorrow  or  in  bitter  taunt,  is  not  evi- 
dent ;  but  out  from  the  stillness  already 
grown  oppressive  breaks  the  question  with 
repetitious  pertinacity — "  Watchman,  what  of 
the  night }  Watchman,  what  of  the  night }" 
The  sentinel  waits  through  a  moment  of  sur- 
prised meditation,  and  then  tranquilly  an- 
swers :  "  The  morning  cometh,  and  also  the 
night :  if  ye  will  inquire,  inquire  ye :  return, 
come."  Then  the  dialogue  lapses  into  si- 
lence again,  and  the  night  gathers  its  un- 
broken shadows  deeper  than  ever. 


228 


THE   LORD  JESUS   CHRIST. 


311  "  The  Lord  God  reigneth."  7s.   D. 

Hark  !  the  song  of  jubilee, 

Loud  as  mighty  thunders  roar, 
Or  the  fulhiess  of  the  sea, 

When  it  breaks  upon  the  shore ; 
Hallelujah  !  for  the  Lord 

God  omnipotent  shall  reign ! 
Hallelujah  !  let  the  word 

Echo  round  the  earth  and  main. 

2  Hallelujah !  hark,  the  sound, 
From  the  depths  unto  the  skies, 

Wakes  above,  oeneath,  around, 

All  creation's  harmonies ! 
See  Jehovah's  banners  furled  ! 

Sheathed  his  sword  !  he  speaks — 't  is  done! 
And  the  kingdoms  of  this  world 

Are  the  kingdoms  of  his  Son ! 

3  He  shall  reign  from  pole  to  pole, 
With  illimitable  sway; 

He  shall  reign,  when  like  a  scroll 
Yonder  heavens  have  passed  away  ; 

Then  the  end :  beneath  his  rod 
Man's  last  enemy  shall  fall : 

Hallelujah  !  Christ  in  God, 
God  in  Chri.1t,  is  all  in  all ! 

The  spirit  in  which  James  Montgomery 
wrote  this  piece  is  easily  seen  from  the  title 
he  gave  to  it :  "  Hallelujah  !"  It  is  included 
in  his  Original  Hymns,  1853,  but  it  was  first 
published  in  the  Evangelical  Magazine,  July, 
181 8.  The  passages  of  Scripture  to  which 
allusion  is  made  are  I.  Corinthians  15  :  24-28 , 
and  Revelation  11  : 1 5. 

512  The  IVorld's  Conversion.  ys.  D. 

Hasten,  Lord!  the  glorious  time 

When,  beneath  Messiah's  sway, 
Every  nation,  every  clime, 

Shall  the  ^jospel's  call  obey. 
Mightiest  kmgs  his  power  shall  own. 

Heathen  tribes  his  name  adore; 
Satan  and  his  host,  o'erthrown. 

Bound  in  chains,  shall  hurt  no  more. 

2  Then  shall  wars  and  tumults  cease, 

Then  be  banished  grief  and  pain  : 
Righteousness  and  joy  and  peace 

Undisturbed  shall  ever  reign. 
Bless  we,  then,  our  gracious  Lord ; 

Ever  praise  his  glorious  name ; 
All  his  mighty  acts  record  ; 

All  his  wondrous  love  proclaim. 

This  is  Miss  Harriet  Auber's  version  of  the 
old  foreign-mission  song  of  the  churches, 
Psalm  72.     It  was  published  in  1829. 

513  Day  of  Pentecost.  CM. 

When  God,  of  old,  came  down  from  heaven, 

In  power  and  wrath  he  came ; 
Before  his  feet  the  clouds  were  riven, 

Half  darkness  and  half  flame. 

2  But  when  he  came  the  second  time, 
He  came  in  power  and  love; 

Softer  than  gales  at  morning  prime 
Hovered  his  holy  Dove. 

3  The  fires  that  rushed  on  Sinai  down 
In  sudden  torrents  dread. 

Now  gently  light  a  glorious  crown 
On  every  sainted  head. 

4  Like  arrows  went  those  lightnings  forth, 
Winged  with  the  sinner's  doom  : 

But  these,  like  tongues,  o'er  all  the  earth 
Proclaiming  life  to  come. 


This  is  taken  from  the  poem  of  eleven 
stanzas  which,  in  the  now  familiar  Christian 
Year,  the  Rev.  John  Keble  has  chosen  to 
signal  the  advent  of  Whitsunday — the  Sab- 
bath that  the  English  churches  accept  as  the 
anniversary  of  the  Day  of  Pentecost,  when 
the  Holy  Spirit  descended  upon  the  apostles 
according  to  the  previous  promise  of  our 
Lord.  A  careful  pruning  of  the  verses  has 
to  be  exercised  in  this  case  ;  for  a  number  of 
the  statements  are  questionable  from  any  ex- 
cept the  highest  points  of  view  taken  by  those 
with  whom  the  author  sympathized.  But  a 
hymn  was  needed  for  this  particular  service, 
and  this  answers  comfortably  as  a  commemo- 
ration of  the  season.  The  author  has  at- 
tached to  it  the  reference  to  Acts  2 : 2-4, 
where  the  Bible  story  is  to  be  found. 

5  1 4  Giver  of  grace.  C.  M. 

Come,  Holy  Ghost,  Creator,  come. 

Inspire  these  souls  of  thine: 
Till  every  heart  which  thou  hast  made 

Be  filled  with  grace  divine. 

2  Thou  art  the  Comforter,  the  gift 
Of  God,  and  fire  of  love; 

The  everlasting  spring  of  joy, 
And  unction  from  above. 

3  Enlighten  our  dark  souls,  till  they 
Thy  sacred  love  embrace ; 

Assist  our  minds,  by  nature  frail. 
With  thy  celestial  grace. 

4  Teach  us  the  Father  to  confess, 
And  Son,  from  death  revived. 

And  thee,  with  both,  O  Holy  Ghost, 
Who  art  from  both  derived. 

Almost  every  writer  of  any  note  has,  first  or 
last,  been  tempted  to  try  his  skill  in  producing 
a  version  of  the  old  Latin  hymn  of  Rabanus 
Maurus,  "  Veni,  Creator  Spirit  its."  This 
one  is  by  Nahum  Tate,  and  it  is  found  in  his 
New  Version  of  the  Psalms,  1 703. 


515 


The  Promise. 


8s,  6s,  4s. 


Our  blest  Redeemer,  ere  he  breathed 

His  tender,  last  farewell, 
A  Guide,  a  Comforter  bequeathed. 

With  us  to  dwell. 

2  He  came  in  tongues  of  living  flame. 
To  teach,  convince,  subdue; 

All-powerful  as  the  wind  he  came. 
And  viewless,  too. 

3  He  came,  sweet  influence  to  impart, 
A  gracious,  willing  Guest, 

While  he  can  find  one  humble  heart 
Wherein  to  rest. 

4  And  every  virtue  we  possess. 
And  every  victor>-  won, 

And  every  thought  of  holiness. 
Is  his  alone. 

5  Spirit  of  purity  and  grace! 
Our  weakness  pitying  see; 

Oh,  make  our  hearts  thy  dwelling-place. 
And  worthier  thee! 


THE   HOLY   SPIRIT. 


229 


Another  of  Miss  Harriet  Auber's  hymns, 
taken  from  The  Spirit  of  the  Psalms,  1829. 
She  has  for  once  departed  from  her  usual  line 
of  composition,  and  refreshed  us  with  a  song 
in  a  new  meter. 

5  I  6  Assurance.  C.  M. 

Whv  should  the  children  of  a  King 

Go  mourning  all  their  days? 
Great  Comforter,  descend,  and  bring 

Some  tokens  of  thy  grace. 

2  Dost  thou  not  dwell  in  all  the  saints, 
And  seal  the  he'rs  of  heaven? 

When  wilt  thou  banish  my  complaints, 
And  show  my  sins  forgiven  ? 

3  Assure  my  conscience  of  her  part 
In  the  Redeemer's  blood ; 

And  bear  thy  witness  with  my  heart 
That  I  am  born  of  God. 

4  Thou  art  the  earnest  of  his  love, 
The  pledge  of  joys  to  come ; 

And  thy  soft  wings,  celestial  Dove, 
Will  safe  convey  me  home. 

Dr.  Isaac  Watts  made  this  No.  144  in  Book 
I.  of  his  Hymns,  1707,  entitling  it,  "  The  Wit- 
nessing and  Sealing  Spirit."  He  annexed  to 
it  also  two  Scripture  references  ;  Romans  8  : 
14-16  :  "  For  as  many  as  are  led  by  the  Spirit 
of  God,  they  are  the  sons  of  God.  For  ye 
have  not  received  the  Spirit  of  bondage  again 
to  fear ;  but  ye  have  received  the  Spirit  of 
adoption,  whereby  we  cry,  Abba,  Father.  The 
Spirit  itself  beareth  witness  with  our  spirit 
that  we  are  the  children  of  God."  And  Ephe- 
sians  1:13,  14:  "In  whom  ye  also  trusted, 
after  that  ye  heard  the  word  of  truth,  the  gos- 
pel of  your  salvation  :  in  whom  also,  after  that 
ye  believed,  ye  were  sealed  with  that  Holy 
Spirit  of  promise,  which  is  the  earnest  of  our 
inheritance  until  the  redemption  of  the  pur- 
chased possession,  unto  the  praise  of  his  glory." 

517  Sanctification.  C.  M. 

Eternal  Spirit,  God  of  truth, 
Our  contrite  hearts  inspire; 
Revive  the  flame  of  heavenly  love. 
And  feed  the  pure  desire. 

2  'T  is  thine  to  soothe  the  sorrowing  mind, 
With  guilt  and  fear  oppressed ; 

'T  is  thine  to  bid  the  dying  live, 
And  give  the  weary  rest. 

3  Subdue  the  power  of  every  sin, 
Whate'er  that  sin  may  be. 

That  we,  with  humble,  holy  heart. 
May  worship  only  thee. 

4  Then  with  our  spirits  witness  bear 
That  we  are  sons  of  God. 

Redeemed  from  sin,  from  death  and  hell. 
Through  Christ's  atoning  blood. 

From  Rev.  Thomas  Cotterill's  Selection  of 
Psalms  and  Hymns  for  Public  and  Private  Use, 
1810.  He  entitled  it,  "Assurance  of  Salva- 
tion desired."  No  compiler  ever  changed  the 
hymns  of  other  people  with  a  cooler  devasta- 
tion than  this  author  did  year  after  year  in  his 


editions.  And  those  who  came  after  him  seem 
to  have  felt  free  to  follow  his  example  by  mak- 
ing changes  in  his  own.  This  one  has  been 
altered,  and  in  most  instances  helped,  by  un- 
known hands,  till  even  the  title  has  had  to 
yield,  and  now  stands,  "  For  a  well-grounded 
hope  of  Salvation." 

518  "Oh,  Come  To-day."  6s,  4s. 

Come,  Holy  Ghost !  in  love. 
Shed  on  us,  from  above. 

Thine  own  bright  ray : 
Divinely  good  thou  art ; 
Thy  sacred  gifts  impart, 
To  gladden  each  sad  heart ; 

Oh,  come  to-day. 

2  Come,  tenderest  Friend,  and  best. 
Our  most  delightful  Guest ! 

With  soothing  power ; 
Rest,  which  the  weary  know  ; 
Shade,  'mid  the  noontide  glow; 
Peace,  when  deep  griefs  o'erflow; 

Cheer  us,  this  hour! 

3  Come,  Light  serene !  and  still 
Our  inmost  bosoms  fiil ; 

Dwell  in  each  breast ; 
We  know  no  dawn  but  tliine ; 
Send  forth  thy  beams  divine. 
On  our  dark  souls  to  shine, 

And  make  us  blest. 

4  Exalt  our  low  desires; 
Extinguish  passion's  fires ; 

Heal  every  wound ; 
Our  stubborn  spirits  bend ! 
Our  icy  coldness  end  ; 
Our  devious  steps  attend. 

While  heavenward  bound. 

5  Come,  all  the  faithful  bless. 
Let  all,  who  Christ  confess, 

His  praise  employ: 
Give  virtue's  rich  reward  ; 
Victorious  death  accord. 
And,  with  our  glorious  Lord, 

Eternal  joy ! 

Our  old  friend.  Rev.  Samuel  Willoughby 
Duffield,  believed  to  the  day  of  his  death  that 
the  ancient  sequence,  "  Veni,  Sancte  Spirit- 
us,"  was  composed  by  Hermannus  Contrac- 
tus, who  died  in  1054.  He  used  to  pride 
himself  upon  the  clearness  of  his  demonstra- 
tion that  this  man  deserved  the  credit  of  hav- 
ing given  to  the  world  a  piece  of  poetry  which 
Archbishop  Trench  pronounced  to  be  "  the 
loveliest  of  all  the  hymns  in  the  whole  circle 
of  Latin  sacred  poetry." 

But  the  critics  still  hold  the  authorship  un- 
settled. It  was  for  ages  given  to  Robert  II., 
King  of  France,  and  so  appeared  in  the  Amer- 
ican and  English  hymn-books  of  the  earlier 
times.  Pope  Innocent  III.  also  had  some 
friends  to  claim  for  him  so  notable  a  literary 
honor.  And  Stephen  Langton,  for  a  while 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury  in  the  thirteenth 
century,  was  named  as  the  fortunate  poet  in 
an  antiquated  commentary.  It  is  of  no  use 
for  any  one  now  to  be  dogmatic  ;  it  is  likely 
the  whole  matter  rests  upon  mere  conjecture. 


230 


THE    HOLY   SPIRIT. 


But  there  is  no  doubt  as  to  the  composer  of 
the  fine  translation  now  before  us.  Dr.  Ray 
Palmer  wrote  the  piece  for  The  Sabbath 
Hyinn-Book,  Andover,  1858.  It  is  admirably 
done,  and  the  stanzas,  in  their  quaint  meter, 
stand  as  a  memorial  of  his  genius  and  taste. 


5  1 9  ''Let  there  be  Light."  6s,  4s. 

Thol"  !  whose  almighty  word 
Chaos  and  darkness  heard, 

And  took  their  flight, 
Hear  us,  we  humbly  pray. 
And,  where  the  gospel's  day 
Sheds  not  its  glorious  ray, 

"  Let  there  be  light !" 

2  Thou !  who  didst  come  to  bring, 
On  thy  redeeming  wing. 

Healing  and  sight, 
Health  to  the  sick  in  mind. 
Sight  to  the  inly  blind — 
Oh,  now  to  all  mankind, 

"  Let  there  be  light !" 

3  Spirit  of  truth  and  love. 
Life-giving  holv  Dove ! 

Speed  forth  thy  flight : 
Move  o'er  the  waters'  face, 
Bearing  the  lamp  of  grace. 
And  in  earth's  darkest  place, 

"  Let  there  be  light !" 

4  Blessed  and  holy  Three, 
All-glorious  Trinity — 

Wisdom,  Love,  Might ! 
Boundless  as  ocean's  tide 
Rolling  in  fullest  pride, 
Through  the  world,  far  and  wide — 

"  Let  there  be  light !" 

"And  God  said.  Let  there  be  light ;  and 
there  was  light,"  Genesis  1:3,  is  evidently 
the  text  upon  which  this  hymn  is  based. 
The  author,  Rev.  John  Marriott,  was  born  at 
Cottesbach,  near  Lutterworth,  England,  in 
1780,  and  studied  at  Rugby  and  at  Christ 
Church,  Oxford.  He  graduated  with  honors, 
and  then  spent  about  two  years  as  private 
tutor  in  the  family  of  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch, 
who  afterwards  secured  to  him  the  living  of 
Church  Lawford,  Warwickshire.  This  he 
kept  to  the  end  of  his  life,  although  his  wife's 
ill-health  compelled  him  to  relinquish  his  du- 
ties for  a  time,  and  necessitated  his  residence 
in  Devonshire.  Here  he  became  successive- 
ly curate  of  St.  Lawrence,  and  of  Broad  Clyst, 
near  Exeter,  where  he  died,  March  31,  1825. 
The  hymn  before  us  was  written  about  181 3, 
and  appeared  in  Dr.  Raffles'  Collection  in 
1 816;  but  was  afterwards  reprinted  from  the 
author's  manuscript  in  Lyra  Britannica, 
1867.  521 


520  Prayer  for  gt  ace. 

Graciol's  Spirit,  dwell  with  me — 
I  mvself  would  gracious  be; 
And,  with  words  that  help  and  heal, 
Would  thy  life  in  mine  reveal ; 
And,  with  actions  bold  and  meek, 
Would  for  Christ,  my  Saviour,  speak. 


78.  61. 


2  Truthful  Spirit,  dwell  with  me — 
I  mvself  would  truthful  be; 

And,  with  wisdom  kind  and  clear, 
Let  thy  life  in  mine  appear : 
And,  with  actions  brotherly. 
Speak  my  Lord's  sincerity. 

3  Tender  Spirit,  dwell  with  me — 
I  myself  would  tender  be; 
Shut  my  heart  up  like  a  flower 
At  temptation's  darksome  hour; 
Open  it,  when  shines  the  sun. 
And  his  love  by  fragrance  own. 

4  Mighty  Spirit,  dwell  with  me — 
I  niyself  would  mighty  be; 
Mighty  so  as  to  prevail, 
Where  unaided  man  must  fail ; 
Ever,  by  a  mighty  hope, 
Pressing  on  and  bearing  up*. 

5  Holy  Spirit,  dwell  with  me — 
I  myself  would  holy  be; 
Separate  from  sin,  I  would 
Choose  and  cherish  all  things  good ; 
And  whatever  I  can  be 
Give  to  him  who  gave  me  thee. 

When  the  first  volume  of  hymns  by  Rev. 
Thomas  Toke  Lynch  appeared,  it  was  the 
signal  for  a  violent  hymnological  controversy. 
Rev.  John  Campbell  attacked  the  author,  as 
having  made  his  poems  the  vehicle  of  what 
he  called  the  "  Negative  Philosophy,"  and  he 
replied  spiritedly ;  and,  moreover,  was  joined 
by  a  number  of  brother  ministers.  The  vol- 
ume was  called  The  Rivulet :  a  Co/itr/btttwu 
to  Sacred  Song,  and  was  published  in  Lon- 
don in  1855.  The  hymn  quoted  above  was 
taken  from  this  book,  where  it  is  to  be  found 
under  the  heading,  "  Holy  Spirit's  Presence 
Desired." 

Rev.  Thomas  Toke  Lynch  was  born  at 
Dunmow,  Essex,  England,  July  5,  1818,  and 
received  his  education  at  Islington  School 
and  Highbur}'  Independent  College.  He 
was  pastor  of  a  church  at  Highgate  from 
1847  to  1849,  and  for  four  years  thereafter 
had  charge  of  a  congregation  in  Mortimer 
Street.  A  wear\^ing  illness  of  three  years' 
duration  followed ;  but  in  1 860  he  resumed 
his  work  with  his  old  people,  to  whom  he 
ministered  in  the  Mornington  Church,  Hamp- 
stead  Road,  London,  until  his  death  on  May 
9,  1 87 1.  All  bitterness  concerning  this  writer 
and  his  hymns  has  long  since  passed  away, 
and  critics  now  recognize  his  poetic  merit  at 
its  true  value. 


Invocation. 

Come,  Holy  Spirit,  heavenly  Dove! 

With  all  thy  quickening  powers. 
Kindle  a  flame  of  sacred  love 

In  these  cold  hearts  of  ours. 

2  Look  !  how  we  grovel  here  below, 
Fond  of  these  trifling  toys ! 

Our  souls  can  neither  fly  nor  go 
To  reach  eternal  joys. 


CM. 


THE    HOLY   SPIRIT. 


231 


3  In  vain  we  tune  our  formal  songs ; 
In  vain  we  strive  to  rise  ; 

Hosannas  lang^uish  on  bur  tongues, 
And  our  devotion  dies. 

4  Dear  Lord,  and  shall  we  ever  live 
At  this  poor  dying  rate — 

Our  love  so  faint,  so  cold  to  thee, 
.•\nd  thine  to  us  so  great? 

5  Come,  Holy  Spirit,  heavenly  Dove! 
With  all  thy  quickening  powers ; 

Come,  shed  abroad  a  Saviour's  love, 
And  that  shall  kindle  ours. 

In  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  Hymns  and  Spiritual 
Songs,  1707,  this  poem  originally  appeared 
with  the  title,  "  Breathing  after  the  Holy 
Spirit ;  or  Fervency  of  Devotion  Desired ;" 
and  it  has  been  republished  by  John  Wesley 
in  his  collection  with  some  alterations. 

It  never  seems  kind  or  charitable  to  charge 
insincerity  upon  any  of  the  children  of  God 
as  a  wilful  sin.  But  the  fact  stands — per- 
haps carelessness  will  account  for  it — ^that  a 
vast  majority  of  prayers  are  mere  mechanical 
performances.  Believers  fall  into  platitudes, 
and  run  in  ruts  of  expression.  The  most 
formal  petition  one  hears  is  quite  likely  to  be 
cast  into  this  most  preposterous  utterance, 
"  Oh,  make  us  all  wrestling  Jacobs  and  pre- 
vailing Israels !"  Travelers  in  Eastern  lands 
tell  us  they  find  among  some  of  the  nations  a 
custom  of  using  praying-machines.  Blocks 
of  wood  are  constructed  in  the  shape  of 
wheels  upon  a  spindle.  On  these  petitions 
are  inscribed ;  and  then  the  pious  devotee 
sits  patiently  beneath,  whirling  them  with  a 
string.  We  have  no  such  contrivances  in 
our  times.  But  there  are  certain  stiff  formu- 
las of  vain  repetition  which  would  fit  them. 
We  certainly  are  too  vague  and  diffusive  in 
our  devotions.  Wisely  has  an  ancient  writer 
remarked,  "  Generalities  are  the  death  of 
prayer."  And  when  we  are  rambling  the 
world  over,  sometimes  the  providence  of  God 
says  almost  audibly  in  our  ears,  "  Let  me  go  !" 
Back  on  ourselves  this  is  the  signal  for  us  to 
turn,  and  quicken  our  faith  by  concentrating 
its  force  and  fervor,  and  arouse  our  zeal  into 
the  condition  of  being  wide  awake. 

522  The  Comforter' s  love.  CM. 

O  Holy  Ghost,  the  Comforter, 

How  is  thy  love  despised. 
While  the  heart  longs  for  sympathy 

And  friends  are  idolized. 

2  O  Spirit  of  the  living  God, 
Brooding  with  dove-like  wings 

Over  the  helpless  and  the  weak 
Among  created  things ! 

3  Where  should  our  feebleness  find  strength, 
Our  helplessness  a  stay. 

Didst  thou  not  bring  us  hope  and  help, 
And  comfort  day  by  day  ? 


4  Great  are  thy  consolations,  Lord, 
And  mighty  is  thy  power. 

In  sickness  and  in  solitude. 
In  sorrow's  darkest  hour. 

5  Oh,  if  the  souls  that  now  despise 
And  grieve  thee,  heavenly  Dove, 

Would  seek  thee,  and  would  welcome  thee. 
How  would  they  prize  thy  love ! 


The  rather  plaintive  undertone  one  notices 
in  Mrs.  Jane  Euphemia  Saxby's  compositions 
was  perhaps  due  to  the  fact  that  they  were 
written  during  a  very  long  illness,  when  she 
believed  herself  to  be,  as  she  says,  "  in  the 
'  Border  Land.' "  This  piece  was  published 
in  1849  in  T/ie  Dove  on  the  Cross.  Mrs. 
Saxby  is  the  daughter  of  William  Browne,  of 
Tallantire  Hall,  Cumberland,  England.  She 
was  born  January  27,  1811,  and  in  1862  mar- 
ried Rev.  Stephen  Henry  Saxby,  rector  of 
East  Clevedon,  Somerset.  A  few  of  her 
pieces  appeared  in  a  compilation  entitled 
Hymns  and  Thoughts  for  the  Sick  and 
Lonely,  and  she  has  also  published  a  book 
for  children. 

The  peculiarity  of  this  poem  is  found  in 
the  implication  it  makes  that  the  "  love  "  of 
the  Comforter  is  "  despised  "  by  thoughtless 
and  wilful  men.  If  the  expression  found  in 
Romans  15:30,  "the  love  of  the  Spirit," 
means  the  love  which  the  Holy  Spirit  feels 
towards  penitent  believers,  rather  than  the 
love  which  believers  feel  towards  him,  or  the 
love  which  the  Holy  Spirit  works  in  the 
hearts  of  believers  towards  each  other,  then 
it  is  indeed  the  only  really  disinterested  love 
mentioned  in  the  Bible.  For  the  Father  loves 
the  creatures  of  his  own  hand,  and  enjoys  the 
prospect  of  their  redemption  which  will  re- 
dound to  his  glory.  And  the  Son  loves  sin- 
ners because  he  loves  his  Father,  and  always 
does  what  will  please  him.  But  if  the  Holy 
Spirit  truly  loves  men  he  is  not  permitted  to 
tell  them  so.  He  cannot  make  professions 
of  his  affection  in  his  own  behalf :  he  is  not 
even  to  "  speak  of  himself ;"  he  is  to  "  glorify  " 
Jesus  Christ,  and  bring  to  men's  remem- 
brance all  that  Jesus  said  ;  he  is  to  "  testify  " 
of  Jesus,  and  "  witness  "  to  Jesus ;  so  he  is 
not  to  bring  himself  forward  at  all  in  winning 
affectionate  return.  Hence  his  "  love  "  is  ab- 
solutely disinterested.  This  passage  in  Ro- 
mans is  very  valuable  and  very  welcome,  if  it 
means  to  tell  us  that  the  Holy  Ghost  loves 
us,  but  that  he  is  too  loyal  to  Jesus  to  try  to 
win  our  hearts  to  himself  away  from  Jesus. 
And  surely,  surely,  such  love  as  his  should 
never  be  "  despised  "  or  "grieved."  It  can- 
not even  be  understood,  much  less  "  prized," 
until  it  is  both  "  sought  "  and  "  welcomed." 


^3^ 


THE    HOLY    SPIRIT. 


523  Heavenly  Love.  7s,  5s. 

Gracious  Spirit,  Holy  Ghost, 
Taught  by  thee,  we  covet  most 
Of  thy  gifts  at  Pentecost, 
Holy,  heavenly  love. 

2  Faith,  that  mountains  could  remove, 
Tongues  of  earth  or  heaven  above. 
Knowledge — all  things — empty  prove. 

Without  heavenly  love. 

3  Love  is  kind,  and  suffers  long; 
Love  is  meek,  and  thinks  no  wrong ; 
Love,  than  death  itself  more  strong : 

Give  us  heavenly  love. 

4  Prophecy  will  fade  away. 
Melting  in  the  light  of  day  ; 
Love  will  ever  with  us  stay  :    , 

Give  us  heavenly  love. 

5  Faith  will  vanish  into  sight ; 
Hope  be  emptied  in  delight ; 

Love  in  heaven  will  shine  more  bright : 
Give  us  heavenly  love. 

6  Faith  and  hope  and  love  we  see 
Joining  hand  in  hand  agree; 

But  the  greatest  of  the  three, 
And  the  best,  is  love. 

7  From  the  overshadowing 
Of  thy  gold  and  silver  wing, 
Shed  on  us,  who  to  thee  sing, 

Holy,  heavenly  love. 

Bishop  Christopher  Wordsworth  published 
this  in  his  Holy  Year,  1862.  He  gave  it  to 
Quinquagesima  Sunday,  and  based  it  upon 
I.  Corinthians  13:13:  "And  now  abideth 
faith,  hope,  charity,  these  three;  but  the 
greatest  of  these  is  charity." 

524  "  Comforter  Divine  !"  7S,  5S. 

Holy  Ghost,  the  Infinite  ! 
Shine  upon  our  nature's  night 
With  thy  blessed  inward  light, 
Comforter  Divine ! 

2  We  are  sinful :  cleanse  us,  Lord  ; 
We  are  faint :  thy  strength  afford  ; 
Lost — until  by  thee  restored. 

Comforter  Divine ! 

3  Like  the  dew,  thy  peace  distill ; 
Guide,  subdue  our  wayward  will, 
Things  of  Christ  unfolding  still, 

Comforter  Divine ! 

4  In  us,  for  us,  intercede. 

And,  with  voiceless  groanings,  plead 
Our  unutterable  need, 
Comforter  Divine ! 

5  In  us  "Abba,  Father,"  cry — 
Earnest  of  our  bliss  on  high. 
Seal  of  immortality — 

Comforter  Divine! 

6  Search  for  us  the  depths  of  God ; 
Bear  us  up  the  starry  road. 

To  the  height  of  thine  abode. 
Comforter  Divine! 

Another  hymn  by  George  Rawson,  origin- 
ally published  in  the  Leeds  Hymn-book,  1853, 
where  it  appears  with  nine  stanzas.  This  is 
one  of  the  best  enumerations  of  the  various 
offices  of  the  Paraclete,  as  Jesus  promised  he 
would  pray  the   Father  to  send  him,  to  be 


found  in  the  English  language.  He  illumi- 
nates and  cleanses,  strengthens  and  restores  : 
he  brings  peace  and  guidance ;  he  subdues 
our  waywardness  and  opens  the  things  of 
Jesus  Christ  to  our  understanding  ;  he  aids  in 
our  prayers  with  "  groanings  that  cannot  be 
uttered ;"  he  is  "  the  earnest  of  our  inherit- 
ance "  and  the  "  seal  of  immortality  "  in  our 
hearts,  so  that  we  cry  "  Abba,  Father,"  just 
as  Jesus  Christ  did ;  he  brings  all  things  to  our 
remembrance,  and  searches  for  us  the  deep 
things  of  God. 

525  The  Comforter.  S.  M. 

Blest  Comforter  divine ! 

Let  rays  of  heavenly  love 
Amid  our  gloom  and  darkness  shine, 

And  guide  our  souls  above. 

2  Turn  us,  with  gentle  voice. 
From  every  sinful  way. 

And  bid  the  mourning  saint  rejoice, 
Though  earthly  joys  decay. 

3  By  thine  inspiring  breath 
Make  every  cloud  of  care. 

And  ev'n  the  gloomy  vail  of  death, 
A  smile  of  glory  wear. 

4  Oh  !  fill  thou  every  heart 
With  love  to  all  our  race  ; 

Great  Comforter,  to  us  impart 
These  blessings  of  thy  grace. 


MRS.  L.  H.  SIGOURNEY. 


This  hymn  Mrs.  Lydia  Huntley  Sigourney 
contributed  to  the  Village  Hymns,  a  collec- 
tion of  songs  for  prayer-meetings  issued  in 
1824  by  the  revivalist  Rev.  Asahel  Nettleton, 
and  long  very  popular  in  New  England.  This 
remarkable  woman  is  said  to  have  been  able 
to  read  intelligently  in  her  third  year,  and  to 
write  in  a  sort  of  rhyme  when  she  reached  the 
age  of  seven.  Her  contributions  to  this  col- 
lection were  marked  by  the  initial  "  H."  only, 
and  seem  to  have  been  her  earliest  efforts  in 


THE   HOLY   SPIRIT. 


233 


the  direction  of  lyric  poetry.  She  attained  no 
very  high  rank  in  this  class  of  literature,  but 
her  productions  were  useful  on  account  of  her 
choosing  as  her  themes  such  subjects  as  met 
the  real  want  of  singing  worshipers. 

Mrs.  Lydia  Huntley  Sigourney  was  the 
daughter  of  Ezekiel  Huntley,  a  soldier  of  the 
Revolution.  She  was  born  in  Norwich,  Conn., 
September,  1791.  Educated  at  the  best  of 
schools,  and  endowed  with  fine  powers  of 
mind,  she  early  gave  promise  of  the  great 
success  she  achieved  as  a  teacher  and  writer. 
She  had  a  class  of  young  ladies  under  her 
charge  in  Hartford  for  five  years,  and  in  181 5 
published  her  first  book;  this  was  entitled 
Moral  Pieces  in  Prose  and  Verse.  Others 
followed  on  in  course,  and  each  secured  a 
rapid  sale,  until  the  number  of  them  reached 
forty-six  distinct  volumes  in  all,  besides  more 
than  two  thousand  articles  contributed  to  more 
than  three  hundred  periodicals.  Some  of  her 
work  went  across  the  sea,  and  was  highly  ap- 
preciated. She  received  from  the  queen  of  the 
French  a  handsome  diamond  bracelet  as  a 
token  of  that  sovereign's  esteem.  In  181 9  she 
became  the  wife  of  Charles  Sigourney,  a  mer- 
chant in  Hartford  of  literary  and  artistic  tastes. 
In  all  the  years  of  her  industry  and  fame  she 
never  neglected  home  duties  for  the  sake  of 
her  books.  She  was  neither  a  strong  thinker 
nor  a  vigorous  writer  generally  ;  but  she  was 
true  and  good,  pure  and  womanly  always, 
clear  and  honest.  Her  whole  life  was  one  of 
active  and  earnest  philanthropy  ;  graceful  and 
generous,  thoughtful  and  kind,  she  was  one  of 
the  decorous  ladies  of  that  olden  time  who 
gave  New  England  a  good  measure  of  her 
glory.  She  died  in  Hartford,  June  10,  1865. 
A  memorial  tablet  has  been  placed  in  Christ 
Church,  in  that  city,  above  the  pew  long  occu- 
pied by  her.  It  bears  some  lines  by  John  Green- 
leaf  Whittier,  who  says  :  "  I  knew  Mrs.  Sigour- 
ney well  when,  as  a  boy,  I  came  to  Hartford. 
Her  kindness  to  the  young  rustic  stranger  I 
shall  never  forget."  The  lines  are  as  follows  : 

"  She  satig  alone,  ere  womanhood  had  known 
The  gift  of  song  which  fills  the  air  to-day : 
Tender  and  sweet,  a  music  all  her  own 
May  fitly  linger  where  she  knelt  to  pray." 


526  " May  we  be  sanctified.'" 

Lord  God,  the  Holy  Ghost, 

In  this  accepted  hour, 
As  on  the  day  of  Pentecost, 

Descend  in  all  thy  power ! 

2  We  meet  with  one  accord 
In  our  appointed  place, 

And  wait  the  promise  of  our  Lord, 
The  Spirit  of  all  grace. 

3  Like  mighty  rushing  wind 
Upon  the  waves  beneath, 

Move  with  one  impulse  every  mind, 
One  soul,  one  feeling  breathe. 


S.  M. 


4  The  young,  the  old,  inspire 
With  wisdom  from  above, 

And  give  us  hearts  and  tongues  of  fire 
To  pray,  and  praise,  and  love. 

5  Spirit  of  light,  explore 
And  chase  our  gloom  away, 

With  luster  shining  more  and  more 
Unto  the  perfect  day. 

6  Spirit  of  tnith,  be  thou 

In  life  and  death  our  guide : 
O  Spirit  of  adoption,  now 
May  we  be  sanctihed  ! 

James  Montgomery  included  this  in  his 
Original  Hymns,  1853,  entitling  it,  "  The  De- 
scent of  the  Spirit."  It  is  founded  upon  the 
story  of  Pentecost,  Acts  2:1-4. 


527 


Grieving  the  Spirit. 


S.  M, 


The  Comforter  has  come. 

We  feel  his  presence  here. 
Our  hearts  would  now  no  longer  roam, 

But  bow  in  filial  fear 

2  This  tenderness  of  love, 
This  hush  of  solemn  power, 

'T  is  heaven  descending  from  above, 
To  fill  this  favored  hour. 

3  Earth's  darkness  all  has  fled. 
Heaven's  light  serenely  shines. 

And  every  heart,  divinely  led. 
To  holy  thouglit  inclines. 

4  No  more  let  sin  deceive. 
Nor  earthly  cares  betray. 

Oh,  let  us  never,  never  grieve 
The  Comforter  away ! 

This  hymn  was  first  published  anonymously 
in  Dr.  Hastings'  Church  Melodies,  1858,  and 
the  authorship  is  still  uncertain.  Its  title, 
"  Grieving  the  Spirit,"  expresses  the  sentiment 
of  the  poem,  a  recognition  of  the  divine  power 
which  attracts  the  heart  and  leads  it  to  re- 
pentance. No  man  can  be  an  inquirer  except 
under  the  influence  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  No 
man  can  come  to  Christ  "  except  the  Father 
draw  him."  If  he  comes  asking,  that  proves 
that  he  comes  drawn.  Hence  the  folly  of 
those  who  profess  to  be  waiting  for  the  Spirit 
in  order  to  believe.  They  have  the  Spirit; 
they  are  resisting  him,  instead  of  waiting  for 
him,  at  this  very  moment.  And  hence  the 
correction,  also,  of  all  false  views  of  those  who 
deem  it  perilous  to  urge  on  every  soul  the 
duty  of  immediate  and  believing  surrender  to 
Christ :  that  is  the  Spirit's  work,  it  is  admit- 
ted ;  but  this  is  the  man's  duty.  He  is  under 
the  power  of  the  Spirit  from  the  moment  he 
asks  the  way.  And  we  are  bound  to  bid  him 
believe  and  be  saved.  If  he  cannot  under- 
stand it  we  must  explain  it. 

528  Giver  of  Grace.  S.  M. 

Come,  Holy  Spirit,  come! 

Let  thy  bright  beams  arise; 
Dispel  the  sorrow  from  our  minds, 

The  darkness  from  our  eyes. 


234 


THE  HOLY  SPIRIT. 


2  Convince  us  of  our  sin, 
Then  lead  to  Jesus'  blood, 

And  to  our  wondering  view  reveal 
The  mercies  of  our  God. 

3  Revive  our  drooping  faith. 
Our  doubts  and  tears  remove, 

And  kindle  in  our  breasts  the  flame 
Of  never-dying  love  ' 

4  'T  is  thine  to  cleanse  the  heart, 
To  sanctify  the  soul. 

To  pour  fresh  life  in  every  part. 
And  new-create  the  whole. 

5  Come,  Holy  Spirit,  come ! 
Our  minds  from  bondage  free ; 

Then  shall  we  know,  and  praise,  and  love, 
The  Father,  Son,  and  thee. 

Rev.  Joseph  Hart,  whose  best  and  most 
familiar  piece,  taken  from  his  Hymns  Com- 
posed on  Various  Subjects,  1759,  we  have  now 
before  us,  was  franl<  enough  and  penitent 
enough,  as  he  reviewed  the  discouraging  rec- 
ord of  his  early  years,  to  put  in  as  a  line  in 
one  of  the  poems  he  published  this  confes- 
sion :  "  With  swine  a  beastly  life"  I  led." 
Here  in  this  touching  prayer  of  his  soul  we 
discover  the  secret  of  his  rescue.  The  home- 
ward steps  of  a  redeemed  man  are  traced  in 
one  of  these  stanzas.  The  Holy  Spirit  first 
convinces  of  sin ;  then  the  same  Divine 
Agent  leads  to  Jesus'  blood.  The  result  is 
always  revolutionary ;  the  nature  is  changed 
utterly.  The  convert  receives  a  new  and 
vast  surprise.  For  the  mercies  of  our  God 
are  suddenly  revealed  to  his  view,  and  he 
looks  up  "wondering." 

529  Jesus'  parting  Gift.  S.  M. 

The  Holy  Ghost  is  here. 
Where  saints  in  prayer  agree ; 

As  Jesus'  parting  gift — is  near 
Each  pleading  company. 

2  Not  far  away  is  he. 

To  be  by  prayer  brought  nigh, 
But  here  in  present  majesty. 
As  in  his  courts  on  high. 

3  He  dwells  within  our  soul. 
An  ever  welcome  guest ; 

He  reigns  with  absolute  control, 
As  monarch  in  the  breast. 

'  4  Our  bodies  are  his  shrine. 

And  he  the  indwelling  Lord  ; 
All  hail,  thou  Comforter  divine, 
Be  evermore  adored ! 

5  Obedient  to  thy  will. 

We  wait  to  feel  thy  power, 
O  Lord  of  life,  our  hopes  fulfill, 

And  bless  this  hallowed  hour. 

The  Rev.  Charles  Haddon  Spurgeon,  the 
leader  of  the  Nonconformist  clergymen  of 
England,  was  born  at  Kelvedon,  Essex,  Eng- 
land, on  June  19,  1834.  In  a  round-jacket 
and  with  a  broad  collar  the  "  boy  preacher  " 
delivered  his  first  sermon  at  sixteen  years  of 
age,  and  he  was  pastor  at  Waterbeach  when 


<r»«fl^ 


REV.  CHARLES   H.   SPURGEON. 

he  was  seventeen,  and  almost  at  once  he  was 
called  to  London,  and  began  his  life-work  in 
Southwark.  Of  this  famous  man  it  is  only 
an  incident  to  speak  as  an  author  of  hymns. 
In  1866  he  published  what  he  called  Our 
Own  Hymn  Book ;  a  Collectiott  of  Psalms 
and  Hymns  for  Public,  Social,  and  Private 
Worship.  In  this  volume  he  has  of  his  own 
composition  fourteen  psalms  and  ten  hymns, 
of  which  he  himself  was  fondest  of  this  one, 
and  it  has  found  its  way  over  the  sea  into 
many  American  hymnals.  His  literary  and 
ministerial  work  for  all  his  later  years  was 
simply  enormous.  He  was  an  editor  and 
contributor,  a  controversialist  and  a  preacher, 
of  the  highest  class  in  the  history  of  those 
who  speak  the  English  language.  His  health 
has  in  these  few  seasons  back  been  precari- 
ous, and  at  times  his  sufferings  were  fright- 
ful. In  a  recent  sermon  Mr.  Spurgeon  inti- 
mated that  his  end  might  be  near.  He  said  : 
"  My  time  is  ended,  although  I  had  much 
more  to  say.  I  can  only  pray  the  Lord  to 
give  you  to  believe  in  him.  If  I  should  never 
again  have  the  pleasure  of  speaking  for  my 
Lord  upon  the  face  of  this  earth,  I  should  like 
to  deliver  as  my  last  confession  of  faith  this 
testimony — that  nothing  but  faith  can  save  in 
this  nineteenth  century  ;  nothing  but  faith  can 
save  England  ;  nothing  but  faith  can  save  the 
present  unbelieving  Church  ;  nothing  but  firm 
faith  in  the  grand  old  doctrines  of  grace  and 


THE   HOLY   SPIRIT. 


^35 


in  the  ever-living  and  unchanging  God  can 
bring  back  to  the  Church  again  a  full  tide  of 
prosperity,  and  make  her  to  be  the  deliverer 
of  the  nations  for  Christ;  nothing  but  faith 
in  the  Lord  Jesus  can  save  you  or  me.  The 
Lord  give  you,  my  brothers,  to  believe  to  the 
utmost  degree,  for  his  name's  sake  !  Amen." 
He  died  at  Mentone,  Italy,  February  1 1 , 
1892.  Funeral  services  were  held  in  the 
Metropolitan  Tabernacle  in  London,  where  he 
had  so  industriously  and  faithfully  ministered 
all  his  life.  After  the  mourners  had  entered 
carriages,  the  procession  started  for  Norwood 
Cemetery.  On  the  coffin  lay  an  open  Bible. 
The  sides  of  the  hearse  bore  the  text :  "  I 
have  fought  a  good  fight,  I  have  finished  my 
course,  I  have  kept  the  faith."  Places  of 
business  between  Kensington  and  Clapham 
were  closed,  and  many  of  the  houses  had 
their  blinds  drawn. 

530  The  Light.  S.  M. 

Lord,  bid  thy  light  arise 

On  all  thy  people  here, 
And  when  we  raise  our  longing  eyes. 

Oh,  may  we  find  thee  near ! 

2  Thy  Holy  Spirit  send, 
To  quicken  every  soul ; 

And  hearts,  the  most  rebellious,  bend 
To  thy  divine  control. 

3  Let  all  that  own  thy  name 
Thy  sacred  image  bear, 

And  light  in  every  heart  the  flame 
Of  watchfulness  and  prayer. 

4  Since  in  thy  love  we  see 
Our  only  sure  relief, 

Oh,  raise  our  earthly  minds  to  thee, 
And  help  our  unbelief. 

Rev.  William  Hiley  Bathurst,  the  writer  of 
this  hymn,  which  is  copied  from  his  Psalms 
and  Hymns  for  Public  and  Private  Use,  1 83 1 , 
was  the  son  of  an  English  Member  of  Parlia- 
ment. He  was  born  at  Clevedale  near  Bris- 
tol, August  28,  1796,  and  received  his  educa- 
tion at  Winchester  and  Oxford,  graduating  at 
Christ  Church  College  as  Bachelor  of  Arts, 
1 818.  He  took  orders  in  the  English  Church 
in  1 8 19,  and  in  1820  was  appointed  rector  of 
Barwick-in-Elmet,  near  Leeds,  where  he  re- 
mained until  1852,  when  he  resigned  his  liv- 
ing because  of  conscientious  scruples  about 
the  use  of  certain  portions  of  the  Baptismal 
and  Burial  Services.  In  1863,  on  the  death 
of  an  elder  brother,  he  succeeded  to  the  fam- 
ily estate,  Lydney  Park  in  Gloucestershire  ;  he 
died  there  November  25,  1877.  Mr.  Bathurst 
published  several  books,  one  of  them  a  trans- 
lation of  the  Georgics  of  Virgil,  also  about 
two  hundred  hymns,  thirty  of  which  remain 
in  common  use.  His  style  is  characterized 
by  simplicity  and  directness  ;  but  his  didactic 


passages,  are   sometimes   lacking    in    poetic 
fer\for. 

53  I  Teaclmtg  Truth.  S.  M. 

Come,  Spirit,  source  of  light. 

Thy  grace  is  unconfinecf ; 
Dispel  the  gloomy  shades  of  night. 

The  darkness  of  the  mind. 

2  Now  to  our  eyes  display 
The  truth  thy  words  reveal; 

Cause  us  to  run  the  heavenly  way. 
Delighting  in  thy  will. 

3  Thy  teachings  make  us  know 
The  mysteries  of  thy  love, 

The  vanity  of  things  below, 
The  joy  of  things  above. 

4  While  through  this  maze  we  stray 
Oh,  spread  thy  beams  abroad  ; 

Disclose  the  dangers  of  the  way, 
And  guide  our  steps  to  God. 

The  original  form  of  this  hymn,  written  by 
Rev.  Benjamin  Beddome,  was  in  long  meter, 
"  Come,  blessed  Spirit !  source  of  light."  It 
is  undated,  but  appeared  in  his  Sermons,  18 16, 
and  in  his  posthumous  Hyintts,  1817  ;  and  has 
been  extensively  used.  It  teaches  that  in 
God's  Word,  made  plain  to  us  by  the  Holy 
Spirit,  we  are  to  find  our  guide  through  life. 

Really  it  is  a  wonderfully  fine  thing  for  us 
that  so  much  of  God's  VVord  is  biography. 
Thus  we  learn  how  principles,  good  and  bad, 
can  sway  a  human  life,  and  be  wrought  into 
its  very  bone  and  sinew.  When  Hannah 
More  and  her  sister  moved  to  Cowslip  Green, 
and  began  to  work  there,  they  found  but  one 
Bible  in  the  parish,  and  that  was  used  to  prop 
up  a  flower-pot.  Such  destitution  seems  as- 
tonishing in  a  Christian  land  ;  but  how  is  this 
any  worse  than  neglecting  the  Bibles  which 
we  have  ?  Are  there  no  young  men,  strangers 
in  great  cities,  whose  Bibles  are  serving  even 
poorer  purposes  ?  Into  your  trunk,  when  you 
left  home,  your  mother's  hands,  perhaps,  put 
the  sacred  volume  with  all  care.  It  may  be 
possible  you  read  it  for  a  little  while ;  but 
where  is  it  lying  in  its  dust  now  ? 

532  The  heart  melted.  S.  M. 

Come,  Holy  Spirit,  come. 

With  energy  divine ; 
And  on  this  poor  benighted  soul 

With  beams  of  mercy  shine. 

2  Oh,  melt  this  frozen  heart ; 
This  stubborn  will  subdue; 

Each  evil  passion  overcome, 
And  form  me  all  anew. 

3  Mine  will  the  profit  be. 

But  thine  shall  be  the  praise  ; 
And  unto  thee  will  I  devote 
The  remnant  of  my  days. 

This  small,  but  significant,  hymn  for 
"  Whitsuntide,"  written  by  Rev.  Benjamin 
Beddome,  seems  to  have  seen  the  light  first 
in  Rippon's  Selec/ion,  tenth  edition,  1800. 


236 


THE  HOLY   SPIRIT. 


533  He  works  in  us.  S.  M. 

'T  IS  God  the  Spirit  leads 

In  paths  before  unknown  ; 
The  work  to  be  performed  is  ours. 

The  strength  is  all  his  own. 

2  Supported  by  his  grace 
We  still  pursue  our  way ; 

And  hope  at  last  to  reach  the  prize, 
Secure  in  endless  day. 

3  'T  is  he  that  works  to  will, 
'T  is  he  that  works  to  do ; 

His  is  the  power  by  which  we  act, 
His  be  the  glory  too. 

Another  of  the  familiar  songs  of  Rev. 
Benjamin  Beddome,  contained  in  his  Hymns 
Adapted  to  Public  Worship,  1817,  where  it 
begins  with  the  line,  "  That  we  might  walk 
with  God."  This  was  changed  in  Bicker- 
steth's  Christian  Psalmody,  1833,  to  the 
present  form,  and  in  the  modern  collections 
the  alteration  has  been  accepted.  The  orig- 
inal title  was  "  Leadings  of-  the  Spirit,"  and 
evidently  allusion  is  made  to  the  passage  in 
Paul's  epistle,  Philippians  2:12,  13. 


536 


534  All-divine.  7s. 

Holy  Ghost  !  with  light  divine, 
Shine  upon  this  heart  of  mine; 
Chase  the  shades  of  night  away. 
Turn  my  darkness  into  day. 

2  Holy  Ghost !  with  power  divine, 
Cleanse  this  guilty  heart  of  mine; 
Long  hath  sin,  without  control, 
Held  dominion  o'er  my  soul. 

3  Holy  Ghost !  with  joy  divine. 
Cheer  this  saddened  heart  of  mine; 
Bid  my  many  woes  depart, 
Heal  my  wounded,  bleeding  heart. 

4  Holy  Spirit !  all  divine, 
Dwell  within  this  heart  of  mine; 
Cast  down  every  idol-throne, 
Reign  supreme — and  reign  alone. 

Rev.  Andrew  Reed,  D.  D.,  is  best  known, 
and  will  be  most  gratefully  remembered  by 
the  world,  as  founder  of  five  benevolent  in- 
stitutions, all  situated  in  London,  the  re- 
sult of  his  energy  and  wide  charity,  and 
designed  for  orphans,  idiots,  and  incurables. 
He  was  born  in  London,  November  27,  1787, 
and  studied  for  the  Congregational  ministry 
at  Hackney  College.  His  first  charge  was 
the  New  Road  Chapel,  St.  George's-in-the- 
East ;  from  there  the  congregation  went  to 
Wycliffe  Chapel,  which  was  built  in  1830 
through  his  exertions.  He  continued  in  this  537 
pastorate  for  fifty  years,  the  only  interruption 
of  his  labors  being  a  visit  to  America  in  1834, 
This  was  at  the  time  of  a  great  religious  re-  . 
vival,  and  immediately  after  his  return  a  sim- 
ilar experience  occurred  in  his  own  church. 
He  published  several  works  on  the  subject 
of  revivals  which  were  of  great  service  to 


churches  in  general :  Narrative  of  the  Revi- 
val of  Religion  in  Wycliffe  Chapel ;  Narra- 
tive of  the  Visit  to  the  American  Churches  ; 
and  Advancement  of  Religion  the  Claim  of 
the  Times.  Dr.  Reed  also  made  a  compila- 
tion, entitled.  The  Hymn-Book,  prepared 
from  Dr.  Watts'  Psalms  and  Hymns  and 
Other  Authors,  with  some  Originals,  1842. 
This  included  the  one  now  before  us  with 
twenty  more  of  his  own  compositions.  This 
is  still  in  use  by  some  churches  in  England 
and  the  colonies.  He  died  February  25, 
1862. 

535  "The  Things  of  Christ."  7s. 

Holy  Spirit !  gently  come, 
Raise  us  from  our  fallen  state; 

Fix  thy  everlasting  home 
In  the  hearts  thou  didst  create. 

2  Now  thy  quickening  influence  bring. 
On  our  spirits  sweetly  move  ! 

Open  every  mouth  to  sing 
Jesus'  everlasting  love. 

3  Take  the  things  of  Christ,  and  show 
What  our  Lord  for  us  hath  done ; 

May  we  God  the  Father  know 
Through  his  well-belov6d  Son. 

Rev.  William  Hammond  wrote  this  piece 
for  his  Psalms,  Hymns,  and  Spiritual  Songs, 
1745.  It  is  included  in  the  Dictionary  of 
Hymnology  among  the  translations  of  the 
"  Veni,  Creator  Spiritus."  But  it  is  surely 
more  like  a  paraphrase  than  like  a  version. 
Allusion  is  made  at  the  close  to  John  14 :  26  ; 
and  16: 15. 


The  Gifts  bestowed.  7s. 

,  Holy  Spirit,  in  my  breast 

Grant  that  lively  faith  may  rest. 
And  subdue  each  rebel  thought 
To  believe  what  thou  hast  taught. 

2  Faith,  and  hope,  and  charity. 
Comforter,  descend  from  thee; 
Thou  the  anointing  Spirit  art. 
These  thy  gifts  to  us  impart — 

3  Till  our  faith  be  lost  in  sight, 
Hope  be  swallowed  in  delight. 
Love  return  to  dwell  with  thee. 
In  the  threefold  Deity ! 

This  is  one  of  the  poems  included  in  Bish- 
op Richard  'Want's  Ancient  Hyjnns,  1837.  It 
is  entitled,  "  Hymn  to  the  Comforter  for 
'  Faith,  Hope,  and  Charity.' "  Some  of  the 
lines  have  been  altered. 


"Keep  me.  Lord  I" 

Gracious  Spirit,  Love  divine! 
Let  thy  li^ht  within  me  shine; 
All  my  guilty  fears  remove. 
Fill  me  with  thy  heavenly  love. 

2- Speak  thy  pardoning  grace  to  me. 
Set  the  burdened  sinner  free; 
Lead  me  to  the  Lamb  of  God  ; 
Wash  me  in  his  precious  blood. 


7S. 


THE   HOLY  SPIRIT. 


237 


3  Life  and  peace  to  me  impart, 
Seal  salvation  on  my  heart ; 
Breathe  th>;self  into  my  breast — 
Earnest  of  immortal  rest. 

4  Let  me  never  from  thee  stray, 
Keep  me  in  the  narrow  way ; 
Fill  my  soul  with  joy  divine, 
Keep  me.  Lord !  for  ever  thine. 

Very  little  is  known  concerning  John 
Stocker,  the  author  of  this  hymn,  beyond  the 
bare  facts  of  his  life  as  found  in  an  article  of 
the  Herzog  EncyclopcBdia.  From  this  we 
learn  that  he  was  born  in  Honiton,  Devon- 
shire, England;  that  most  likely  he  was  an 
acquaintance,  possibly  an  intimate  friend,  of 
Toplady,  whose  home  was  for  several  seasons 
not  far  away  from  Honiton.  This  man,  with 
the  scant  biography,  during  the  years  before 
and  after  1777,  contributed  to  the  Gospel 
Magazine  nine  hymns ;  these  were  issued 
again  by  Daniel  Sedgwick  in  1861.  Among 
this  early  group  the  present  hymn  was  in- 
cluded ;  it  has  been  in  many  of  the  hymnals 
since,  and  has  enjoyed  great  favor  with  the 
churches. 

533  "■Inward  Teachings."  L.  M. 

Eternal  Spirit,  we  confess 
And  sing  the  wonders  of  thy  grace ; 
Thy  power  conveys  our  blessnigs  down 
From  God  the  Father  and  the  Son. 

2  Enlightened  by  thy  heavenly  ray. 
Our  shades  and  darkness  turn  to  day ; 
Thine  inward  teachings  make  us  know 
Our  danger  and  our  refuge  too. 

3  Thy  power  and  glory  work  within. 
And  break  the  chains  of  reigning  sin ; 
All  our  imperious  lusts  subdue. 

And  form  our  wretched  hearts  anew. 

Dr.  Isaac  Watts  gives  this  as  No.  133  of 
his  Book  II.  He  entitles  it  very  simply,  "  The 
Operations  of  the  Holy  Spirit."  The  theme 
appears  uninviting  because  of  the  tameness 
of  a  mere  enumeration ;  but  the  hymn  has 
always  been  popular  in  the  United  States  for 
use  in  conference-meetings. 

539  "Veni,  Creator!"  L.  M. 

Come,  O  Creator  Spirit  blest ! 
And  in  our  souls  tak«  up  thy  rest : 
Come,  with  thy  grace,  and  heavenly  aid. 
To  fill  the  hearts  which  thou  hast  made. 

2  Great  Comforter !  to  thee  we  cry ; 
O  highest  gift  of  God  most  high  ! 

O  fount  of  life !  O  fire  of  love ! 
Send  sweet  anointing  from  above ! 

3  Kindle  our  senses  from  above, 

And  make  our  hearts  o'erflow  with  love; 
With  patience  firm,  and  virtue  high, 
The  weakness  of  our  flesh  supply. 

4  Far  from  us  drive  the  foe  we  dread. 
And  grant  us  thy  true  peace  instead  ; 
So  shall  we  not,  with  thee  for  guide. 
Turn  from  the  path  of  life  aside. 

The  favor  with  which  the  ancient  Latin 
hymn,  "  Veni,  Creator  Spiritus,"  has   been 


received  into  the  hearts  of  God's  people  all 
through  the  ages,  is  evidenced,  if  by  nothing 
else,  by  the  eagerness  with  which  the  singers 
of  sacred  song  have  hastened  to  translate  it 
into  convenient  meter  for  modern  use.  Ed- 
ward Caswall  is  the  author  of  the  version 
here  before  us ;  it  was  printed  in  Lyra  Ca- 
tholica,  1849. 

540  "  The  book  unfold."  L.  M. 

Come,  blessed  Spirit !  source  of  light ! 

Whose  power  and  grace  are  unconfined. 
Dispel  the  gloomy  shades  of  night — 

The  thicker  darkness  of  the  mind. 

2  To  mine  illumined  eyes  display 

The  glorious  truths  thy  word  reveals ; 
Cause  me  to  run  the  heavenly  way. 
Thy  book  unfold,  and  loose  the  seals. 

3  Thine  inward  teachings  make  me  know 
The  mysteries  of  redeeming  love. 

The  vanity  of  things  below. 
And  excellence  of  things  above. 

4  While  through  this  dubious  maze  I  stray, 
Spread,  like  the  sun,  thy  beams  abroad, 

To  show  the  dangers  of  the  way^ 
And  guide  my  feeble  steps  to  God. 

We  find  the  piece  here  quoted  in  Rev. 
Benjamin  Beddome's  Sermons,  181 6;  and 
also  in  his  Hymns,  which  were  published 
posthumously  in  181 7.  There  it  has  four 
stanzas  of  four  lines  each.  In  some  of  our 
hymn-books  the  first  line  is  given  as  "  Come, 
Spirit !  source  of  light ;"  but  in  the  version 
before  us  it  appears  as  it  was  originally. 

54 1  Spirit  of  Grace.  L.  M. 

Come,  sacred  Spirit,  from  above. 
And  fill  the  colclest  heart  with  love: 
Oh,  turn  to  flesh  the  flinty  stone, 
And  let  thy  sovereign  power  be  known. 

2  Speak  thou,  and  from  the  haug;htiest  eyes 
Shall  floods  of  contrite  sorrow  rise  ; 
While  all  their  glowing  souls  are  borne 

To  seek  that  grace  which  now  they  scorn. 

3  Oh,  let  a  holy  flock  await 

In  crowds  around  thy  temple-gate 
Each  pressing  on  with  zeal  to  be 
A  living  sacrifice  to  thee. 

In  the  original  hymn,  which  Dr.  Philip 
Doddridge  wrote  in  1740,  two  other  stanzas 
appear,  but  neither  of  them  helps  in  common 
use.  The  piece  commences,  "  Hear,  gracious 
Sovereign,  from  above."  As  it  now  stands, 
it  fitly  represents  the  words  of  our  Lord : 
"  The'  hour  cometh,  and  now  is,  when  the 
true  worshipers  shall  worship  the  Father  in 
spirit  and  in  truth."  Really,  it  would  appear 
from  this  that  it  is  not  at  all  worth  while  to 
consider  any  question  whatever  concerning  a 
place  of  prayer.  Jeremiah  could  be  heard 
from  the  dungeon,  Daniel  from  the  lions' 
den ;  Paul  gained  an  answer  on  shipboard, 
and  Jonah  sent  an  excellent  petition  from 
under  the  waves  of  the  sea ;  Nathanael  was 


238 


THE   HOLY    SPIRIT. 


not  unheeded  standing  beneath  the  fig-tree, 
nor  was  Israel  turned  away  when  he  wrestled 
in  the  mountain  of  Gilead.  Each  prayer,  fer- 
vent in  spirit  and  effectual  in  reward,  encour- 
aged the  saint  which  lifted  it  to  say,  no  mat- 
ter where  he  happened  to  be  at  the  time, 
"  This  place  is  none  other  but  the  house  of 
God,  and  this  is  the  gate  of  heaven  !" 


sometimes  his  conscience  upbraided  him  as  if 
he  had  been  a  second  Lamech,  and  ought  to 
cry  out :  "  I  have  slain  a  man  to  my  wound- 
ing, and  a  young  man  to  my  hurt."  Such 
experiences  give  a  pathetic  meaning  to  his 
longing  to  be  led  by  the  Holy  Spirit  into 
complete  sanctification  and  to  the  heaven  of 
rest. 


542  Invocation.  L.  M.       543 

Come,  gracious  Spirit,  heavenly  Dove, 
With  light  and  comfort  from  above : 
Be  thou  our  guardian,  thou  our  guide! 
O'er  every  tliought  and  step  preside. 

2  To  us  the  light  of  truth  display, 

And  make  us  know  and  choose  thy  way ; 

Plant  holy  fear  in  every  heart, 

That  we  from  God  may  ne'er  depart. 

3  Lead  us  to  holiness — the  road 
That  we  must  take  to  dwell  with  God ; 
Lead  us  to  Christ,  the  living  way. 
Nor  let  us  from  his  precepts  stray. 

4  Lead  us  to  God,  our  final  rest. 
To  be  with  him  for  ever  blest ; 

Lead  us  to  heaven,  its  bliss  to  share — 
Fullness  of  joy  for  ever  there  ! 


Before  his  delusion  appeared  Rev.  Simon 
Browne  had  published  a  volume  of  Serinotis, 
1722,  and  a  book  containing  200  religious 
poems,  entitled  Hymns  and  Spiritual  Songs, 
1720.  He  was  fond  of  Watts  as  a  friend  and 
as  a  leader  in  hymnody,  and  many  would 
think  he  imitated  him  too,  and  always  to  his 
own  benefit,  for  his  own  work  was  never  very 
poetical,  but  the  rather  stately  and  somewhat 
solid.  His  best  hymn  is  the  one  before  us ; 
it  has  been  popular  with  all  the  churches,  and 
appears  almost  invariably  in  the  modern 
hymnals.  He  felt  the  power  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  of  God  with  him  through  all  the  va- 
garies of  his  feeble  reason.  Indeed,  his  case 
has  been  one  of  those  which  have  been  often 
instanced  in  the  medical  and  philosophical 
books  as  very  peculiar.  At  the  time  when 
his  mind  first  began  to  wander  he  lost  his 
wife  and  his  son,  both  of  whom  he  tenderly 
loved.  But  the  explanation  of  his  deepest 
distress  has  generally  been  found  in  the  re- 
sult of  an  attack  made  upon  him  by  a  high- 
way robber.  As  the  villain,  according  to  the 
custom  in  all  ages,  presented  the  pistol  and 
demanded  his  money,  this  muscular  Cbngre- 
gationalist,  being  of  a  large  and  sinewy  build, 
seized  him  suddenly  by  the  throat,  disarmed 
him,  and  flung  him  down,  while  he  sent  a 
friend  opportunely  with  him  for  assistance. 
When  help  came  it  was  evident  at  the  first 
look  that  the  clergyman's  grip  had  strangled 
his  antagonist  to  death.  This  incident 
wrought  painfully  upon  the  good  man's 
mind.     He  often  wished  to  destroy  himself ; 


Veni,  Creator. 

Creator  Spirit,  by  whose  aid 
The  world's  foundations  first  were  laid, 
Come,  visit  every  waiting  mind ; 
Come,  pour  thy  joys  on  human-kind. 

2  Thrice  holy  Fount,  thrice  holy  Fire, 
Our  hearts  with  heavenly  love  inspire; 
Come,  and  thy  sacred  unction  bring 
To  sanctify  us,  while  we  sing. 

3  O  Source  of  uncreated  light, 
The  Father's  promised  Paraclete — 
From  sin  and  sorrow  set  us  free, 
And  make  us  temples  worthy  thee ! 

4  Make  us  eternal  truths  receive, 
And  practise  all  that  we  believe  ; 
Give  us  thyself,  that  we  may  see 
The  Father  and  the  Son,  by  thee. 


L.  M. 


JOHN   DRVDEN. 

"  O  happy  youth,  who  had  Homer  to  be  the 
herald  of  your  virtues  !"  So  cried  Alexan- 
der the  Great  as  he  stood  upon  the  tomb  of 
Achilles  and  thought  of  the  fame  of  \h&  Iliad. 
It  really  makes  a  mighty  difference  how  even 
the  best  of  men  are  advertised.  Here  is  Ra- 
banus  Maurus  done  into  English  verse  from 
the  Latin  by  no  less  a  person  than  John 
Dryden :  laudatus  a  laudato,  "  a  great  man 
praised  by  a  great  praised  man."  Concerning 
the  Veni,  Creator  a  mysterious  monk  of  Salz- 
burg once  said  :  "  Whoever  repeats  this  hymn, 
by  day  or  by  night,  him  shall  no  enemy,  visi- 
ble or  invisible,  assail."  Popular  feeling  seems 
to  have  caught  a  portion  of  the  nameless 
priest's  enthusiasm  ;  for  this  song  of  praise  to 


THE   HOLY    SPIRIT. 


239 


the  Holy  Ghost  has  been  translated  by  many 
of  the  highest  of  poets,  rivaling  each  other  in 
their  efforts  to  do  him  honor,  and  sung  over 
the  whole  world. 

The  author  of  the  ancient  Latin  hymn, 
Rabanus  Maurus,  was  Abbot  of  Fulda  and 
Archbishop  of  Mayence  in  the  eighth  cen- 
tury ;  he  was  commonly  called  "  the  foremost 
German  of  his  time."  It  is  fair  to  say  that  his 
claim  to  this  composition  is  not  admitted  by 
all  critics.-  John  Dryden,  who  wrote  this  trans- 
lation into  English,  was  the  famous  poet, 
whose  biography  can  be  found  in  every  class- 
book.  He  was  born  at  Aldwinkle,  Northamp- 
tonshire, August  9,  163 1 ,  and  died  May  i ,  1 700. 

544  The  spirit  near.  L.  M. 
Sure  the  blest  Comforter  is  nigh, 

'T  is  he  sustains  my  fainting  heart ; 
Else  would  my  hopes  for  ever  die, 
And  every  cheering  ray  depart. 

2  Whene'er,  to  call  the  Saviour  mine. 
With  ardent  wish  my  heart  aspires, 

Can  it  be  less  than  power  divine 
That  animates  these  strong  desires? 

3  And,  when  my  cheerful  hope  can  say, 
I  love  my  God  and  taste  his  grace. 

Lord  !  is  it  not  thy  blissful  ray 
That  brings  this  dawn  of  sacred  peace  ? 

4  Let  thy  good  Spirit  in  my  heart 
For  ever  dwell,  O  God  of  love  ! 

And  light  and  heavenly  peace  impart. 
Sweet  earnest  of  the  joys  above. 

Miss  Anne  Steele  began,  in  the  Poems  by 
Theodosia,  1760,  a  piece  consisting  of  eight 
stanzas,  with  the  line,  "  Dear  Lord,  and  shall 
thy  Spirit  rest,"  and  entitled  it,  "  The  Influ- 
ences of  the  Spirit  of  God  in  the  Heart."  Out 
of  this  the  stanzas  chosen  here  have  been 
taken.  The  Scriptural  reference  is  to  John 
14:  16,  17.  This  hymn  has  been  familiar  in 
all  the  history  of  New  England,  to  Christian 
hearts  especially  during  periods  of  revival  in 
the  churches. 

545  "  Come  and  shine."  7s,  3I.  D. 
Holy  Spirit,  come  and  shine 

Sweetly  in  this  heart  of  mine, 
With  thy  heavenly  love  and  light ; 

Come,  thou  Father  of  the  poor; 

Come,  thou  Giver,  great  and  sure; 
Come,  and  make  my  spirit  bright ! 

2  Best  of  all  my  helpers,  thou  ! 
Dearest  guest  that  I  can  know. 

Freshest  draught  that  I  can  find : 
In  my  labor  thou  art  peace. 
Thou  dost  bid  my  fever  cease, 

To  my  sorrows  thou  art  kind. 

3  O  thou  blessed  Light  of  Light, 
Fill  thou  every  secret  height 

In  thy  servant's  waiting  soul  ! 
Save  for  this,  thy  heavenly  aid, 
Man  would  be  for  nothing  made; 

Not  a  sin  could  he  control. 

4  Cleanse  thou  every  sordid  place, 
Soften  harshness  by  thy  grace, 

Heal  the  wounds  I  feel  within  ; 
Bend  the  stubborn  will  to  thine, 
Cheer  the  thoughts  that  droop  and  pine — 

Rule  whatever  turns  to  sin  ! 


5  Give  to  them  that  faithful  be 
Everlasting  trust  in  thee, 

All  thy  sevenfold  gifts  bestow ; 
Give  to  virtue  her  reward, 
Give  us  safety  in  our  Lord, 

Give  what  joy  immortals  know  I 


SAMUEL  WILLOUGHBY  DUFFIELD. 

This  piece  was  translated  by  Rev.  Samuel 
Willoughby  Dufifield  from  the  Vent,  Sancte 
Spiritus,  which  was  written  by  Hermannus 
Contractus,  the  crippled  monk  of  Reichenau, 
in  the  eleventh  century.  "  There  is  no  stranger 
series  of  events  than  that  which  now  brings 
this  hymn  into  connection  with  the  name  of 
Hermannus,  instead  of  the  usual  ascription  to 
Robert  II.,  King  of  France.  See,  for  the  full 
account,  '  The  Latin  Hymn-Writers  and  their 
hymns.'  The  present  translation  first  appeared 
in  Laudes  Domini,  1884." 

This  is  the  modest  inscription  which  the 
author  of  English  Hymns  placed  upon  his 
own  piece  now  before  us.  So  enthusiastic 
was  he  concerning  the  authorship  of  the  an- 
cient Latin  composition,  which  he  really  be- 
lieved he  had  established,  that  one  feels  a 
little  sad  to  have  to  record  that  he  did  not 
after  all  fully  succeed  in  convincing  some  of 
his  critics. 

Rev.  Samuel  Augustus  Willoughby  Duffield 
came  of  a  line  of  Presbyterian  ministers  as  il- 
lustrious as  any  in  that  great  denomination  of 
Christians  in  America.  His  grandfather,  Rev 
Dr.  George  Duffield,  and  his  father.  Rev.  Dr. 
George  Dufiield,  Jr.,  were  among  the  most  wor- 
thily prominent  clergymen  of  their  day.  If  our 
friend  and  fellow  -  worker  —  Nulli  flebilior 
quatn  mihi — had  lived  to  his  completed 
strength  and  promise,  he  would   have  filled 


240 


THE  HOLY   SPIRIT. 


out  the  fame  of  the  family  and  left  it  undi- 
minished. 

He  was  born  in  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,  September 
24,  1843,  and  graduated  at  Yale  College,  1863. 
Ordained  in  1867,  he  served  several  churches 
successively — in  Bergen,  N.  J.,  in  Ann  Arbor, 
Mich.,  in  Chicago,  III,  in  Altoona,  Pa.  ;  and 
then  in  1881  became  pastor  of  the  Westmin- 
ster Presbyterian  Church  in  Bloomfield,  N.  J., 
in  which  position  he  remained  until  his  death. 
May  12,  1887.  Everywhere  he  left  his  mark 
as  an  industrious  worker,  a  brilliant  preacher, 
an  influential  and  public-spirited  citizen.  He 
wrote  constantly  for  the  press,  contributing 
both  in  poetry  and  prose.  The  five  hymns  he 
gave  to  Laudes  Domi'm,  1884,  were  among 
the  most  welcome  and  excellent  it  contained. 

His  main  works  were  English  Hytnns :  their 
Authors  and  History ,  1886;  ^x\A  Latin  Hymn- 
Writers  and  their  Hvmns  (edited  posthu- 
mously by  Dr.  R.  E.  Thompson),  1889.  The 
first  of  these  was  the  best  of  all  the  books  of 
annotations  up  to  the  time  of  its  issue,  show- 
ing great  research,  brilliancy,  and  accurate 
scholarship.  The  other  one  was  more  to  his 
taste,  and  was  full  of  erudition  and  quaint 
discourse  concerning  the  ancient  treasures  of 
the  church. 

His  people  loved  him  tenderly,  and  on  the 
silver  plate  of  his  coffin  placed  the  word,  "  Di- 
Jectissitnus." 

54Q  Lord  of  Light.  7s,  3I.  D. 

Holy  Spirit,  Lord  of  Light, 
From  the  clear,  celestial  height  _ 

Thy  pure  beaming  radiance  give. 
Come,  thou  Father  of  the  poor, 
Come  with  treasures  which  endure ; 

Come,  thou  Light  of  all  that  live. 

2  Thou,  of  all  consolers  best, 
Thou,  the  soul's  delightsome  guest, 

Dost  refreshing  peace  bestow. 
Thou  in  toil  art  comfort  sweet, 
Pleasant  coolness  in  the  heat, 

Solace  in  the  midst  of  woe. 

3  Light  immortal,  Light  Divine, 
Visit  thou  these  hearts  of  thine, 

And  our  inmost  being  fill. 
If  thou  take  thy  grace  away, 
Nothing  pure  in  man  will  stay, 

All  his  good  is  turned  to  ill. 

4  Heal  our  wounds :  our  strength  renew ; 
On  our  dryness  pour  thy  dew ; 

Wash  the  stains  of  guilt  away. 
Bend  the  stubborn  heart  and  will; 
Melt  the  frozen,  warm  the  chill ; 

Guide  the  steps  that  go  astray. 

5  Thou,  on  those  who  evermore 
Thee  confess  and  thee  adore, 

In  thy  sevenfold  gifts  descend  ; 
Give  them  comfort  when  they  die; 
Give  them  life  with  thee  on  high ; 

Give  them  joys  that  never  end. 

This  is  one  of  Rev.  Edward  Caswall's  fine 
translations    from  the   Latin,  "  V.eni,   Sancte 


Spiritus,"  found  in  Lyra  Catholica,  1849.  I" 
mediaeval  times  the  original  hymn  was  so 
much  admired  that  it  was  often  called  the 
"Golden  Sequence."  It  is  a  fervent  prayer 
for  the  indwelling  of  the  Spirit,- from  whom 
alone  can  come  a  new  growth.  Mere  ex- 
ternal efforts  at  self-reform  do  not  amount 
to  much.  The  heart  needs  warming  by  the 
Holy  Ghost  that  the  life  may  throw  the  world- 
liness  off. 

Go  forth  in  the  winter  morning,  and  mark  a 
little  cottage  half  buried  in  the  snow.  Great 
ranks  of  icicles  are  pendent  from  its  eaves. 
Smokeless,  the  chimney  stands  crowned  with 
a  snowy  tuft  on  its  summit,  like  the  white 
plume  of  a  hussar.  The  trees  in  the  yard 
arch  the  roof,  and  burden  it,  as  they  bend  un- 
der the  load  of  sleet  and  drift.  How  cold  and 
cheerless — you  wonder  if  any  one  ever  lived 
in  it — you  shiver  as  you  look  at  it — what  will 
you  do  }  Of  course  you  would  never  do  any 
good  by  mounting  the  gable  and  toiling  away 
with  the  shovel.  No :  dig  in  to  the  door  if 
you  can.  Once  inside,  kindle  a  roaring  fire  on 
the  hearth,  pile  on  the  wood,  send  the  brisk 
hot  flames  wreathing  up  the  frosty  chimney. 
And  ere  long  you  will  see  the  shingles  steam- 
ing at  the  ridge,  the  window-panes  clearing 
up,  the  icicles  dropping  off  one  by  one ;  and 
at  last,  with  one  great  plunge,  that  rights  up 
the  trees  and  shakes  the  burdened  building 
free,  the  cataract  of  snow  slides  off  the  roof, 
and  home  begins  again  where  winter  was  en- 
throned. 

547 


C.  P.  M. 


The  Solace  in  all  Woes. 

Come,  Holy  Spirit,  from  above, 

And  from  the  realms  of  li|;ht  and  love 

Thine  own  bright  rays  impart. 
Come,  Father  of  the  fatherless, 
Come,  Giver  of  all  happiness. 

Come,  Lamp  of  ever\-  heart. 

2  O  thou,  of  comforters  the  best, 

O  thou,  the  soul's  most  welcome  guest, 

O  thou,  our  sweet  repose, 
Our  resting-place  from  life's  long  care, 
Our  shadow  from  the  world's  fierce  glare, 

Our  solace  in  all  woes. 

3  Wash  out  each  dark  and  sordid  stain, 
Water  each  dn,'  and  arid  plain. 

Raise  up  the  bruised  reed. 
Enkindle  what  is  cold  and  chill, 
Relax  the  stiff  and  stubborn  will, 

Guide  those  that  goodness  need. 

It  would  seem  as  if  these  multiplied  trans- 
lations of  the  "  Ve7ii,  Sancte  Spiritus"  would 
be  needless  for  the  uses  of  a  congregation. 
But  they  represent  different  meters,  and  are 
presented  therefore  with  new  music ;  and  they 
are  memorials  of  men  who  have  won  highest 
favor  in  the  churches.  Here,  for  example,  we 
have  the  work  of  Dean  Arthur  Penrhyn  Stan- 
ley, published  first  in  Macinillans  Magazine, 


THE   HOLY   SPIRIT. 


241 


June,  1873 ;  who  would  be  willing  to  be  with- 
out his  fresh  song?  It  affords. a  keen  critical 
interest  to  compare  the  various  versions  of 
this  old  hymn  as  they  invite  our  admiration, 
like  so  many  flowers  in  an  anthology,  or  like 
so  many  high-born  maidens  in  the  drawing- 
room  of  a  queen. 

548  Giver  of  Truth.  C.  P.  M. 

O  Holy  Ghost,  thou  Fount  of  light, 
Thy  blessed  radiance  puts  to  flight 

The  darkness  of  the  mind  ; 
The  pure  are  only  pure  through  thee; 
And  thou  the  prisoner  dost  set  free, 

And  cheer  with  light  the  blind. 

2  Thy  grace  eternal  truth  instills. 
The  ignorant  with  knowledge  fills, 

Awakens  those  who  sleep, 
Inspires  the  tongue,  informs  the  eye, 
Expands  the  heart  with  charity. 

And  comforts  all  who  weep. 

3  Teach  us  to  aim  at  heaven's  high  prize, 
And  for  its  glory  to  despise 

The  world  and  all  below ; 
Cleanse  us  from  sin,  direct  us  right. 
Illume  us  with  thy  heavenly  light, 

Thy  peace  on  us  bestow. 

4  Lord  of  all  sanctity  and  might, 
Eternal  thou  and  infinite, 

The  life  of  earth  and  heaven ; 
To  thee  the  High  and  Holy  One, 
To  thee,  with  Father,  and  with  Son, 

Be  praise  and  glory  given. 

The  hymn  of  Adam  of  St.  Victor,  "  Qui 
procedis  ab  titrogue,"  is  found  in  the  Limoges 
Seqtiefiiiary  of  the  twelfth  century.  Of  this 
Edward  Caswall  has  offered  the  present 
translation ;  it  was  published  in  his  Hymns 
and  Poems,  1873.  It  so  happens  that  we  are 
just  now  in  the  midst  of  a  series  of  "  sequen- 
ces," and  the  versions  are  multiplied.  A  se- 
quence, as  the  old  monks  phrased  it,  was  a 
peculiar  sort  of  strain  with  long  notes  to  it, 
which  "  followed  "  the  Alleluia  that  came  be- 
tween the  Epistle  and  the  Gospel  in  the  reg- 
ular service  of  the  Roman  Church.  The 
deacon  who  officiated  had  some  little  space 
to  traverse  in  crossing  to  the  reading-desk, 
and  the  choir  used  to  prolong  the  last  sylla- 
ble—/«— to  cover  the  break.  They  slurred  it, 
and  rolled  it,  and  kept  it  up  droningly  till 
everj'body  grew  tired.  Mabillon  defines  a 
sequence  as  "  a  rhythmical  prayer."  It  was  in- 
vented in  order  to  cover  this  awkward  inter- 
minableness  of  the  close  of  the  Alleluia,  and 
bridge  over  the  slow  procession  of  the  min- 
ister, and  give  him  a  breathing-space  before 
he  began  to  read  again.  For  a  while  the 
novelty  made  poor  substitution,  for  it  so  clung 
to  the  long  notes  of  music  that  it  was  com- 
pared to  the  wailing  and  droning  of  a  slow 
mill-wheel  doing  its  work  under  a  lack  of  oil 
at  the  axle.  But  the  matter  advanced  into 
perfection.     And  we  have  to  be  glad  that  the 


"  Sancii  Spiritus  adsit,"  and  the  gjand  old 
"  Veni,  Creator  Spiritus,"  and  the  "  Rex  om- 
nipotens,"  and  the  inimitable  "Chorus  Nova: 
Hierusalem  "  were  all  "  sequences  "  that  came 
out  of  the  dire  necessity  of  stopping  a  mill- 
wheel  droning  in  church. 


549 


The  Valley  of  dry  Bones. 


C.  P.  M. 


Descend  from  heaven,  celestial  Dove, 
With  flames  of  pure  seraphic  love 

Our  ravished  breasts  inspire. 
O  Fount  of  jov,  blest  Paraclete, 
Warm  our  cold  hearts  with  heavenly  heat. 

And  set  our  souls  on  fire. 

2  Breathe  on  these  bones,  so  dry  and  dead ; 
Thy  sweetest,  softest  influence  shed 

In  all  our  hearts  abroad. 
Point  out  the  place  where  grace  abounds : 
Direct  us  to  the  bleeding  wounds 

Of  our  incarnate  God. 

3  Conduct,  blest  Guide,  thy  sinner-train 
To  Calvary,  where  the  Lamb  was  slain, 

And  with  us  there  abide. 
Let  us  our  loved  Redeemer  meet. 
Weep  o'er  his  pierced  hands  and  feet. 

And  view  his  wounded  side. 

Rev.  Joseph  Hart  composed  this  hymn ;  it 
would  strike  some  close  critics  that  he  had 
designated  it  for  his  version  of  the  same  old 
"  Veni,  Sancte  Spiritus"  in  his  Hymns,  1759. 
It  has  touches  of  resemblance,  but  it  is  no 
proper  translation.  The  piece  is  useful,  if 
for  nothing  else,  because  of  its  allusion  to  the 
figure  of  the  ancient  seer  in  Ezekiel  37  :  i-io. 

550  "Shed  thine  injitience."  los. 

Hail,  Holy  Spirit,  bright  immortal  Dove! 
Great  spring  of  light,  of  purity  and  love : 
Proceeaing  from  the  Father  and  the  Son, 
Distinct  from  both,  and  yet  with  both  but  one. 

2  O  Lord,  from  thee  one  kind  and  Quickening  ray 
Will  pierce  the  gloom  and  re-enkindle  day ; 

Will  warm  the  frozen  heart  with  love  divine. 
And  with  its  Maker's  image  make  it  shine. 

3  Oh,  shed  thine  influence,  and  thy  power  exert ; 
Clear  my  dark  mind,  and  thaw  my  icy  heart; 
Pour  on  my  drowsy  soul  celestial  day. 

And  heavenly  life  to  all  its  powers  convey. 

This  hymn  by  the  half-insane  preacher  of 
Old  JewTy,  in  London,  the  Rev.  Simon 
Browne,  appears  with  the  others  in  his  little 
book.  Hymns  and  Spiritual  Songs,  1720.  It 
is  compiled  from  a  poem  twelve  stanzas  long. 
It  well  illustrates  the  didactic  character  of 
this  author's  poetry.  It  is  valuable  as  show- 
ing the  ruggedly  orthodox  faith  of  the  man 
who  has  sometimes  been  accused  of  being  of 
a  wavering  confidence  in  the  great  doctrine 
of  the  Triune  Nature  of  the  Godhead.  He 
here  preaches  as  he  prays,  and  professes  his 
creed  as  he  sings.  The  personality  of  the 
Spirit  of  divine  grace  is  distinctly  acknowl- 
edged ;  the  poet  warms  his  "  frozen  heart 
with  love  divine."  Some  religious  people  say 
"  it "  if  they  have  occasion  to  speak  of  the  Holy 
16 


242 


THE   HOLY   SPIRIT. 


Ghost ;  the  Bible  invariably  is  sure  to  say 
"  he  "  and  "  him  "  when  it  reveals  his  agency 
and  divinity.  Again  in  this  hymn,  as  in  the 
others  of  his  we  sing,  we  are  reminded  of  the 
awful  experiences  of  this  godly  man  in  the 
midst  of  his  malady.  A  Christian  heart  alone 
can  understand  the  aid  there  is  in  the  thought 
of  this  Third  Person  of  the  adorable  Trinity 
always  close  at  hand,  tender  and  compassion- 
ate ;  it  makes  one  long  to  understand  more 
perfectly  the  exact  meaning  of  the  expression, 
"the  love  of  the  Spirit."  No  one  can  doubt 
that  this  bewildered  poet  found  comfort  in 
such  considerations.  "  Clear  my  dark  mind," 
he  prays ;  "  pour  on  my  soul  celestial  day !" 


551 


Guidance  into  Truth. 


O  THOU  great  Friend  to  all  the  sons  of  men. 
Who  once  appeared  in  humblest  guise  below. 

Sin  to  rebuke,  to  break  the  captive's  chain, 
And  call  thy  brethren  forth  from  want  and  woe ! 

2  We  look  to  thee :  thy  Spirit  gives  the  light 
Which  guides  the  nations,  groping  on  their  way. 

Stumbling  and  falling  in  disastrous  night. 
Yet  hoping  ever  for  the  perfect  day. 

3  Yes :  thou  art  still  the  Life ;  thou  art  the  Way 
The  holiest  know — Light,  Life,  and  Way  of  heaven ; 

And  they  who  dearest  hope,  and  deepest  pray, 
Toil  by  the  light,  life,  way,  which  thou  hast  given. 


THEODORE  PARKER. 


Most  of  those  who  sing  this  song  of  praise 
to  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  "  Light,  Life, 
and  Way  of  heaven,"  would  be  surprised  to 
be  told  for  the  first  time  that  it  was  composed 
by  Rev.  Theodore  Parker,  M.  A.,  one  of  the 
most  prominent,  pronounced,  and  extreme  of 
all  the  ministers  of  the  Unitarian  Church  in 
America.  He  was  conspicuous  for  the  length 
to  which  he  suffered  the  expression  of  his 
individual  opinions  to  go.  He  denied  the 
Trinity  of  the  Godhead  and  utterly  rejected 
the  Deity  of  the  Saviour,  and  yet  he  here  de- 


clares that  Jesus  is  "  the  Way  the  holiest 
know."  He  asserts  that  the  Spirit  of  Jesus, 
"  who  once  appeared  in  humblest  guise  be- 
low," guides  the  nations.  He  says  that  "  they 
who  dearest  hope  and  deepest  pray  "  toil  by 
the  light,  life,  and  way  which  he  has  given. 
Hence  the  hymn,  which  is  in  its  structure  a 
sonnet,  possesses  an  unusual  pathos  as  we 
remember  the  great  generous- hearted  man 
who  wrote  it.  We  are  prepared  to  believe 
the  statement  that,  during  all  his  theological 
wanderings,  "hoping  ever  for  the  perfect 
day,"  yet  confessedly  "  stumbling  and  falling 
in  disastrous  night,"  like  the  rest  of  our  lost 
race,  he  kept  a  bust  of  Jesus  Christ  constant- 
ly upon  the  desk  where  he  studied. 

Theodore  Parker  never  came  into  notice 
specially  as  a  poet.  I  know  of  no  other  hymn 
than  this  which  has  had  circulation.  This 
one  appears  in  Lyra  Americana,  and  1  have 
seen  it  in  two  collections  for  church  use  be- 
sides Laudes  Doinmi.  It  is  printed  also  in 
his  biography  by  Rev.  O.  B.  Frothingham. 
The  facts  of  his  career  are  easily  accessible  and 
measurably  familiar.  He  was  born  in  Lex- 
ington, Mass.,  August  24,  18 10,  the  youngest 
of  eleven  children  in  the  same  household. 
His  native  village  is  historic.  In  that  first  bat- 
tle of  the  Revolution  his  grandfather  com- 
manded a  company,  and  his  ancestors  fought 
all  through  the  war  of  Independence.  At  the 
age  of  twenty  he  was  examined  and  received 
into  Harvard  College.  But  he  did  not  grad- 
uate ;  he  only  received  the  honorary  degree  of 
Master  of  Arts  in  1840.  He  taught  school 
for  a  while,  and  was  ordained  to  the  ministry 
in  1837  at  West  Roxbury,  Mass.  A  new  so- 
ciety was  formed  for  him  in  Boston,  and  to 
this  he  went  as  minister  in  1846.  From  that 
time  forward  he  was  recognized  as  outside  of 
every  regular  communion,  with  beliefs  and 
disbeliefs  of  his  own.  He  was  a  patriot,  an 
intense  antislavery  champion,  a  prodigious 
worker,  a  well-read  scholar.  His  health 
broke  in  1859;  he  went  abroad  for  relief,  but 
died  in  Italy,  May  10,  i860.  He  was  buried 
in  the  Protestant  cemeter>'  in  Florence.  Just 
now  we  read  in  the  papers  that  a  new  head- 
stone has  been  erected  over  his  grave,  and 
unvailed  in  the  presence  of  many  American 
and  English  residents.  The  expense  was  paid 
by  the  subscriptions  of  a  large  number  of 
friends  and  admirers  of  the  Boston  preacher. 


552 


"  Thy  loving  Sptrit.' 


Teach  me  to  do  the  thing  that  pleaseth  thee; 

Thou  art  my  God,  in  thee  I  live  and  move; 
Oh,  let  thy  loving  Spirit  lead  me  forth 

Into  the  land  of  righteousness  and  love. 


MAN'S   LOST   CONDITION. 


243 


2  Thy  love  the  law  and  impulse  of  my  soul, 
Thy  righteousness  its  fitness  and  its  plea, 

Thy  loving  Spirit  mercy's  sweet  control 
To  make  me  liker,  draw  me  nearer  thee. 

3  My  highest  hope  to  be  where,  Lord,  thou  art, 
To  lose  myselfin  thee  my  richest  gain, 

To  do  thy  will  the  habit  of  my  heart, 
To  grieve  the  Spirit  my  severest  pain. 

4  Thy  smile  my  sunshine,  all  my  peace  from  thence. 
From  self  alone  what  could  that  peace  destroy? 

Thy  joy  my  sorrow  at  the  least  offence. 
My  sorrow  that  I  am  not  more  thy  joy. 

This  comes  from  Rev.*  Dr.  John  Samuel 
Bewley  Monsell's  Hymns  of  Love  and  Praise, 
1863,  where  it  is  entitled,  "  Divine  Teaching," 
has  four  stanzas,  and  makes  reference  to 
Psalm  143:10:  "Teach  me  to  do  thy  will; 
for  thou  art  my  God  :  thy  Spirit  is  good  ;  lead 
me  into  the  land  of  uprightness." 


553 


The  Fullness  of  Grace. 


O  Holy  Spirit !  now  descend  on  me 
As  showers  of  rain  upon  the  thirsty  ground  : 

Cause  me  to  flourish  as  a  spreading  tree; 
May  all  thy  precious  fruits  in  me  be  found. 

2  Be  thou  my  guide  into  all  truth  divine ; 
Give  me  increasing  knowledge  of  my  God; 

Show  me  the  glories  that  in  Jesus  shine. 
And  make  my  heart  the  place  of  his  abode. 

3  Be  thou  my  quickener — in  me  revive 

Each  drooping  grace  so  prone  to  fade  and  die; 
Help  me  on  Jesus  day  by  day  to  live. 
And  loosen  more  and  more  each  earthly  tie. 

4  Blest  Spirit!  I  would  yield  myself  to  thee, 
Do  for  me  more  than  I  can  ask  or  think ; 

Let  me  thy  holy  habitation  be, 
And  daily  deeper  from  thy  fullness  drink. 

Through  long  years  of  illness  the  brave  pa- 
tience and  uncomplaining  spirit  of  Miss  Chris- 
tina Forsyth  rendered  her  peculiarly  dear  to 
her  many  friends,  for  whom  she  was  always 
thoughtful  and  unselfish.  She  wrote  a  num- 
ber of  poems,  most  of  which  were  published 
posthumously  as  Hym7is  by  C.  F.,  1861,  and 
whence  the  piece  quoted  was  taken ;  but  her 
life  was  a  more  powerful  influence  for  good 
than  anything  she  has  written.  She  was  born 
at  Liverpool,  England,  in  1825,  and  died  at 
Hastings,  March  16,  1859. 

554  The  heart  on  the  altar.  los. 

Spirit  of  God !  descend  upon  my  heart ; 

Wean  it  from  earth,  through  all  its  pulses  move; 
Stoop  to  my  weakness,  mighty  as  thou  art. 

And  make  me  love  thee  as  I  ought  to  love. 

2  Teach  me  to  feel  that  thou  art  always  nigh  ; 
Teach  me  the  struggles  of  the  soul  to  bear; 

To  check  the  rising  doubt,  the  rebel  sigh ; 
Teach  me  the  patience  of  unanswered  prayer. 

3  Teach  me  to  love  thee  as  thine  angels  love, 
One  holy  passion  filling  all  my  frame ; 

The  baptism  of  the  heaven-descended  Dove, 
My  heart  an  altar,  and  thy  love  the  flame ! 

"  If  we  live  in  the  Spirit,  let  us  also  walk  in 
the  Spirit,"  is  the  text  appended  to  the  orig- 


inal of  this  hymn,  which  had  five  stanzas,  and 
was  published  in  1854  in  a  volume  entitled, 
Psalms  and  Hymns  for  Public  Worship. 
Its  author  was  Rev.  George  Croly,  LL.  D., 
who  has  been  successful  in  other  departments 
of  literature  besides  hymn-writing.  He  was 
born  in  Dublin,  Ireland,  August  17,  1780,  and 
studied  at  Trinity  College  in  that  city,  grad- 
uating in  1804.  After  his  ordination  as  a 
minister  of  the  Established  Church  he  spent 
a  few  years  in  the  north  of  Ireland,  but  in 
1 8 10  removed  to  London  and  applied  himself 
to  literary  work.  Finally  he  was  appointed 
to  the  united  livings  of  St.  Stephen's,  Wal- 
brook,  London,  and  St.  Benet,  Sherehog. 
These  he  retained  until  his  death,  which  took 
place  suddenly  while  he  was  walking  in  the 
street  in  Holborn,  London,  November  24, 
i860. 


555 


'  No  Other  Name.' 


S.  M. 


Not  all  the  blood  of  beasts 

On  Jewish  altars  slain 
Could  give  the  guilty  conscience  peace. 

Or  wash  away  the  stain. 

2  But  Christ  the  heavenly  Lamb» 
Takes  all  our  sins  away, 

A  sacrifice  of  nobler  name 
And  richer  blood  than  they. 

3  My  faith  would  lay  her  hand 
On  that  dear  head  of  thine, 

While  like  a  penitent  I  stand. 
And  there  confess  my  sin. 

4  My  soul  looks  back  to  see 
The  burdens  thou  didst  bear, 

When  hanging  on  the  cursed  tree. 
And  hopes  her  guilt  was  there. 

5  Believing,  we  rejoice 

To  see  .the  curse  remove ; 
We  bless  the  Lamb  with  cheerful  voice. 
And  sing  his  dying  love. 

Taken  from  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  Hymns, 
where  it  is  No.  142  of  Book  II.,  and  is  en- 
titled, "  Faith  in  Christ  our  Sacrifice."  For 
those  who  are  so  apt  and  swift  in  condemna- 
tion of  hymns  that  attempt  to  "sing  doc- 
trine," it  only  remains  for  us  to  call  attention 
to  the  fact  that  this  one  in  particular  has  the 
whole  Gospel  of  divine  grace  in  a  succession 
of  stanzas,  presented  in  a  most  remarkable 
way,  and  still  the  versification  is  graceful, 
flowing,  and  beautiful. 

It  begins  with  the  lost  state  of  man,  utterly 
hopeless  in  his  ruin,  deeply  in  pain,  guilty 
before  the  law,  broken  and  sad :  verse  i. 
The  picture  is  melancholy  and  full  of  shame. 
Every  attempt  at  self-justification  is  fruitless. 
Not  only  Jewish  sacrifices  on  the  altar,  but 
Hindoo  self-tortures  in  personal  mutilation ; 
Luther's  creeping  up  Pilate's  Staircase  on  his 
bare  knees ;  Madame  Guyon's  foolish  expe- 
dient of  putting  peas  in  her  shoes  for  a  pen- 


244 


THE   gospel: — ATONEMENT    NEEDED. 


ance ;  hermits'  poverty,  devotees'  flagellation 
with  whips — all  are  of  no  use ;  they  cannot 
cleanse  the  pollution,  nor  allay  the  suffering, 
nor  stay  the  doom  of  the  fallen  soul  of  man. 
"  But  Christ  the  heavenly  Lamb  takes  all  our 
sins  away  :"  verse  2.  When  Henry  Obookiah, 
the  heathen  boy,  who  was  brought  across 
from  the  Sandwich  Islands  to  be  educated, 
asked  how  it  could  be  that  Jesus,  being  only 
one  person,  could  make  an  atonement  for 
every  one — men,  women,  and  children,  being 
so  many — his  teacher  informs  us  that  she 
bowed  her  head  in  silent  prayer  for  aid  in  an 
attempt  to  answer  his  question ;  then  she 
loosed  from  the  fringe  of  her  dress  some 
small  worthless  beads  in  the  trimming — quite 
a  quantity,  a  little  pile — and  laid  these  in  one 
of  his  hands ;  then  she  suddenly  drew  off 
her  jeweled  wedding-ring  and  placed  it  in 
the  palm  of  the  other,  and  bade  him  decide 
which  was  most  valuable.  The  bright  lad 
caught  the  illustration  in  an  instant  of  delight ; 
Jesus  was  "  nobler  "  than  a  whole  race  of  sin- 
ful men ;  for  atonement  does  not  go  by 
measure  of  numbers,  but  by  measure  of 
worth ;  Christ  was  a  prince  of  the  "  blood," 
in  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  So,  when  he 
died,  his  death  was  sufficient  for  all  of  us, 
for  all  who  ever  lived  on  the  earth,  if  they 
would  believe  on  him  and  lovingly  serve  him. 
Only  we  must  receive  the  advantage  of  it  by 
faith,  and  on  condition  of  immediate  repent- 
ance :  verse  j.  Under  the  laws  of  Moses, 
most  of  us  will  remem.ber,  the  guilty  or  "  un- 
clean "  man  must  bring  his  lamb  to  be  slain 
at  the  altar ;  but  as  he  passed  it  to  the  priest 
he  must  lay  his  hand  on  the  head  of  the  ani- 
mal to  show  that  it  was  his  own  offering,  and 
that  he  wished  to  transfer  his  sins  to  it  as 
his  sacrifice.  So,  when  it  was  slain,  it  was 
as  if  he  himself  had  been  slain.  Thus  Jesus 
is  the  "  Lamb  of  God  that  taketh  away  the 
sins  of  the  world."  A  penitent  sinner  seems 
to  lay  his  hand  upon  Christ's  head.  It  is  in 
this  way  that  he  is  "  crucified  with  Christ " 
when  Christ  dies  :  verse  4. 

Often  we  close  our  eyes  as  if  in  meditation ; 
and,  recalling  the  sorrow^ful  scene  at  Calvary, 
we  seem  to  see  the  Saviour  dying  on  the  cross ; 
we  remember  the  verse  in  Isaiah's  prophecy 
which  declares  that  "  the  Lord  hath  laid  on 
him  the  iniquity  of  us  all ;"  and  we  trust  that 
the  sin  for  which  he  is  making  atonement  in- 
cludes ours — our  own — all  of  the  sins  we 
ever  committed.  Then  when  he  says,  "  It  is 
finished,"  we  know  we  are  justified ;  there  is 
no  more  curse ;  the  "  handwriting  against  us  " 
is  for  ever  taken  away ;  it  was  "  nailed  to  his 
cross  "  to  show  it  was  completely  atoned  for 


and  paid  ;  and,  oh,  how  full  our  souls  are  with 
joy  !  verse  _§. 


556 


Deut.  30  :  19. 


Oh,  where  shall  rest  be  found — 

Rest  for  the  wearj-  soul  ? 
'T  were  vain  the  ocean  depths  to  Gound, 

Or  pierce  to  either  pole. 

2  The  world  can  never  give 
The  bliss  for  which  we  sigh  : 

'T  is  not  the  whole  of  life  to  live, 
Nor  all  of  death  to  die. 

3  Beyond  thi«  vale  of  tears 
There  is  a  life  above, 

Unmeasured  by  the  flight  of  years; 
And  all  that  life  is  love. 

4  There  is  a  death  whose  pang 
Outlasts  the  fleeting  breath  : 

Oh,  what  eternal  horrors  hang 
Around  the  second  death  ! 

5  Lord  God  of  truth  and  grace ! 
Teach  us  that  death  to  shun ; 

Lest  we  be  banished  from  thy  face 
And  evermore  undone. 

James  Montgomery  published  this  in  18 19, 
but  corrected  and  changed  some  expressions 
in  it  before  he  included  it  in  its  finished  form 
in  Original  Hymns,  1853.  It  was  entitled, 
"  The  Issues  of  Life  and  Death,"  and  refer- 
ence was  made  to  Hebrews  4  : 9-1 1.  He  com- 
posed the  piece  for  the  anniversary-  of  the  Red 
Hill  Wesleyan  Sunday-School  in  Sheffield  ;  it 
was  printed  for  use  on  a  broad  sheet  in  six 
stanzas  of  four  lines. 

557  A  Physician  wanted.  S.  M. 

And  wilt  thou  hear,  O  Lord, 

Thy  suppliant  people's  crj-  ? 
And  pardon,  though  thy  book  record 

Our  crim  s  of  crimson  dye  ? 

2  So  deep  are  they  engraved. 
So  terrible  their  fear: 

The  righteous  scarcely  shall  be  saved, 
And  where  shall  we  appear  ? 

3  Let  us  make  all  things  known 
To  him  who  all  things  sees  : 

That  so  his  blood  may  yet  atone 
For  our  iniquities. 

4  O  thou.  Physician  blest, 
Make  clean  the  guilty  soul ; 

And  us,  by  many  a  sin  oppressed, 
Restore,  and  keep  us  whole  ! 

The  author  of  English  Hymns  with  a  mere 
touch  of  sly  pleasantry  for  which  he  was  occa- 
sionally noted,  quotes,  a  sentence  from  the 
translator's  comment  on  his  own  work: 
"  'These  stanzas,'  says  Dr.  John  Mason  Neale, 
'are  a  Cento  from  the  Canon  for  the  Monday 
of  the  First  Tone  in  the  Paracletice' — a  re- 
mark which  will  commend  itself  to  those  who 
have  some  knowledge  of  the  extreme  intricacy 
of  Ritualism." 

The  hymn  is  from  the  Greek  of  St.  Joseph 
the  Hymnographer.  This  old  poet  of  the  ninth 
century  was  a  Sicilian  by  birth,  and  a  monk 


MAN  S    LOST   CONDITION. 


245 


'^?^  'M:  :K:(f:  Z-O^  A  3<:.  f.'?:  fA 


Ivig:  1lrv^,p:%fiyciiff^0i^y  tLDT^  U   frJf 


urj  '^— 


5  eg«^  A>  ^lL«,     '^ 


or  St^ox^- ^^ 

-    iG^S 


A  PORTION  OF   DR.   WATTS'    DIARY. 


by  profession.  His  history  was  romantic,  but 
his  poems  were  good.  He  was  one  of  the 
most  gifted,  as  well  as  one  of  the  most  volu- 
minous, of  the  Greek  hymn-makers  in  the 
early  Greek  Church.  He  died  A.  D.  883.  The 
version  offered  us  here  is  very  free,  to  say  the 
least  of  it ;  to  all  intents  it  is  a  new  hymn. 

558  Pardon  and  Purity.  S.  M. 

Can  sinners  hope  for  heaven, 

Who  love  this  world  so  well  ? 
Or  dream  of  future  happiness. 

While  on  the  road  to  hell  ? 

2  Shall  they  hosannas  sing, 

With  an  unhallowed  tongue  ? 
Shall  palms  adorn  the  guilty  hand 

Which  does  its  neighbor  wrong? 

4  Thy  grace,  O  God,  alone. 

Good  hope  can  e'er  afford  ! 
The  pardoned  and  the  pure  shall  see 

The  glory  of  the  Lord. 

This  was  originally  entitled,  "  The  Unright- 
eous excluded  from  Heaven,"  and  published 
in  the  Hymns  adapted  to  Public  Worship 
and  Private  Devotion,  181 7,  of  Rev.  Benjamin 
Beddome.  It  is  a  type  of  the  "  revival  melo- 
dies "  of  former  years  in  New  England,  when 
singing  expostulations  to  sinners  was  much 
more  in  vogue  than  it  is  now.  The  allusion 
in  the  closing  stanza  is  to  Matthew  5  : 8. 


559 


"All  downward.'''' 


S.  M. 


Like  sheep  we  went  astrav. 

And  broke  the  fold  of  God — 
Each  wandering  in  a  different  way. 

But  all  the  downward  road. 

2  How  dreadful  was  the  hour 
When  God  our  wanderings  laid, 

And  did  at  once  his  vengeance  pour 
Upon  the  Shepherd's  head ! 

3  How  glorious  was  the  grace 
When  Christ  sustained  the  stroke! 

His  life  and  blood  the  Shepherd  pays, 
A  ransom  for  the  flock. 

4  But  God  shall  raise  his  head 
O'er  all  the  sons  of  men. 

And  make  him  see  a  numerous  seed, 
To  recompense  his  pain. 

In  Book  I.  of  Dr.  Isaac  ^^X.X.%*  Hymns  this 
is  numbered  as  142  ;  it  consists  of  six  stanzas, 
and  was  composed  to  be  sung  after  a  sermon 
upon  Isaiah  53:6-12.  It  is  entitled,  "The 
Humiliation  and  Exaltation  of  Christ."  It  is 
interesting  to  ask  and  answer  the  question,  in 
the  serene  light  of  such  a  hymn,  whether  this 
great  poet  of  the  Church  merited  the  accusa- 
tion of  having  cherished  Socinian  sentiments 
secretly  in  the  later  years  of  his  life.  No  tes- 
timony could  be  more  complete  than  this  con- 
cerning his  faith  in  the  divinity  and  atoning 
power  of  the  Saviour  who  died  for  the  sins  of 


THE   GOSPEL  :— ATONEMENT    NEEDED. 


men,  and  rose  into  glory  everlasting  there- 
after. 

It  so  happens  that  a  diary  kept  by  this  re- 
markable man  has  been  found  since  his  death, 
from  which  we  have  actually  photographed  a 
portion  in  his  own  hand.  The  artlessness  of 
the  commonplace  record  is  in  every  particular 
more  striking  because  it  so  mingles  the  ma- 
terial with  the  spiritual  facts  of  his  experience. 
This  book  is  now  in  the  hands  of  a  gentleman 
in  England,  whose  grandfather  was  chaplain 
and  finally  one  of  the  executors  of  Elizabeth 
Abney,  the  daughter  of  Sir  Thomas  Abney, 
M'ith  whose  family  and  under  whose  roof  the 
poet  found  his  home  for  thirty-six  years.  It 
tells  the  story  of  his  first  finding  the  Lord. 

560  "Jesus  only."  S.  M- 

Not  what  these  hands  have  done 

Can  save  this  gfuilty  soul : 
Not  what  this  toiling  flesh  has  borne 

Can  make  my  spirit  whole. 

2  Not  what  I  feel  or  do 

Can  give  me  peace  with  God  ; 
Nbt  all  my  prayers,  and  sighs,  and  tears, 
Can  bear  my  awful  load. 

3  Thy  work  alone,  O  Christ, 
Can  ease  this  weight  of  sin  ; 

Thy  blood  alone,  O  Lamb  of  God, 
Can  give  me  peace  within. 

In  the  form  of  a  poem  of  twelve  stanzas 
having  four  lines  each,  this  piece  first  appeared 
in  Dr.  Horatius  Bonar's  Hymns  of  Faith  and 
Hope,  1864.  .  It  is  not  used  in  its  original 
shape,  but  has  been  much  abbreviated,  and 
the  most  popular  cento  is  probably  the  one 
here  given.  It  is  a  recognition  of  the  impos- 
sibility of  man's  atoning  for  his  own  sins,  and 
of  the  necessity  of  Christ's  personal  interposi- 
tion as  the  Redeemer,  in  order  to  effect  a 
permanent  reconciliation  between  the  Creator 
and  his  rebellious  creatures. 

A  reach  so  extensive  as  this  flings  over  the 
whole  transaction  a  spirit  of  profound  solem- 
nity. The  parties  to  the  covenant  are  not 
man  and  man,  but  man  and  God.  The  wit- 
nesses who  stand  around  are  the  world,  the 
church,  angels — and  devils.  The  thing  can- 
not be  done  in  a  corner.  The  ratification  of 
the  contract  has  been  already  provided.  It  is 
brought  to  us,  engrossed,  as  it  were,  on 
stamped  paper.  The  Jews  used  to  consider 
the  oath — "  by  Abel's  blood" — the  most  un- 
utterably solemn  and  irrevocable  human  lips 
could  ever  repeat.  Our  parchment  comes  to 
us  for  the  contract,  so  to  speak,  sprinkled 
with  the  blood  of  the  only-begotten  Son  of 
God,  "  which  speaketh  better  things  than  that 
of  Abel."  The  sanctions  of  the  covenant 
are  inexpressibly  sacred  and  awful.  All  the 
good  and  evil  of  this  life,  all  the  blessings 


and  the  curses  of  the  life  to  come,  hang  upon 
the  question  of  our  fidelity  in  keeping  the 
faith  we  have  pledged. 

56 1  Probation.  S.  M. 

A  CHARGE  to  keep  I  have, 

A  God  to  glorify, 
A  never-dying  soul  to  save, 

And  fit  it  for  the  sky. 

2  To  serve  the  present  age, 
My  calling  to  fulfill ; 

Oh,  may  it  all  my  powers  engage 
To  do  my  Master's  will. 

3  Arm  me  with  jealous  care, 
As  in  thy  sight  to  live  ; 

And  oh,  thy  sers'ant,  Lord,  prepare 
A  strict  account  to  give. 

4  Help  me  to  watch  and  pray. 
And  on  thyself  rely. 

Assured,  if  I  my  trust  betray, 
I  shall  for  ever  die. 

This  is  a  well-known  and  favorite  hymn  of 
Rev.  Charles  Wesley's  composition,  and  was 
first  published  in  Short  Hymns  on  Select  Pas- 
sages of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  1762.  It  was 
founded  upon  Leviticus  8:35.  Thomas  Car- 
lyle  left  behind  him  these  thoughtful  words, 
written  in  his  old  age :  "  The  older  I  grow — 
and  now  I  stand  upon  the  brink  of  eternity — 
the  more  comes  back  to  me  the  sentence  in 
the  catechism  which  I  learned  when  a  child, 
and  the  fuller  and  deeper  its  meaning  be- 
comes, '  What  is  the  chief  end  of  man  ?  To 
glorify  God  arid  enjoy  him  for  ever.'  " 

562  utter  Helplessness.  C.  M. 

Not  all  the  outward  forms  on  earth, 

Nor  rites  that  God  has  given. 
Nor  will  of  man,  nor  blood,  nor  birth. 

Can  raise  a  soul  to  heaven. 

2  The  sovereign  will  of  God  alone 
Creates  us  heirs  of  grace  ; 

Born  in  the  image  of  his  Son, 
A  new,  peculiar  race. 

3  The  Spirit,  like  some  heavenly  wind, 
Breathes  on  the  sons  of  flesh, 

New-models  all  the  carnal  mind, 
And  forms  the  man  afresh. 

4  Our  quickened  souls  awake  and  rise 
From  the  long  sleep  of  death  ; 

On  heavenly  thmgs  we  fix  our  eyes, 
And  praise  employs  our  breath. 

This  hymn  is  found  in  Dr.  Isaac  Watts' 
Book  I,  No.  95.  It  bears  the  title  "  Regenera- 
tion," and  has  four  stanzas.  The  sermon  he 
preached  and  with  which  it  is  connected  was 
based  upon  John  1:13.  George  MacDonald's 
words  will  be  recalled  just  here,  and  the  quota- 
tion he  gives  :  "  The  world,  my  friends,  is  full 
of  resurrections,  and  it  is  not  always  of  the  same 
resurrection  that  St.  Paul  speaks.  Every  night 
that  folds  us  up  in  darkness  is  a  death ;  and 
those  of  you  that  have  been  out  early  and  have 
seen  the  first  of  the  dawn  will  know  it — the 


MAN'S   LOST  CONDITION. 


247 


day  rises  out  of  the  night  like  a  being  that  has 
burst  its  tomb  and  escaped  into  life.  That 
you  may  feel  that  the  sunrise  is  a  resurrection 
— the  word  resurrection  just  means  a  rising 
again — I  will  read  you  a  little  description  of 
it  from  a  sermon  by  a  great  writer  and  great 
preacher  called  Jeremy  Taylor.     Listen : 

"  'But  as  when  the  sun  approaching  toward 
the  gates  of  the  morning,  he  first  opens  a  little 
eye  of  heaven  and  sends  away  the  spirits  of 
darkness,  and  gives  light  to  a  cock,  and  calls 
up  the  lark  to  matins,  and  by  and  by  gilds  the 
fringes  of  a  cloud,  and  peeps  over  the  eastern 
hills,  thrusting  out  his  golden  horns  like  those 
which  decked  the  brow  of  Moses,  when  he 
was  forced  to  wear  a  vail  because  himself  had 
seen  the  face  of  God ;  and  still  while  a  man 
tells  the  story  the  sun  gets  up  higher,  till  he 
shows  a  fair  face  and  a  full  light,  and  then  he 
shines  one  whole  day,  under  a  cloud  often, 
and  sometimes  weeping  great  and  little  show- 
ers, and  sets  quickly ;  so  is  a  man's  reason 
and  his  life.' " 

563  The  Soul  Ruined.  C.  M. 

How  sad  our  state  by  nature  is  I 

Our  sin — how  deep  it  stains  !  _ 
And  Satan  holds  our  captive  minds 

Fast  in  his  slavish  chains. 

2  But  there  's  a  voice  of  sovereign  grace 
Sounds  from  the  sacred  word ; 

"  Ho  !  ye  despairing  sinners,  come, 
And  trust  a  pardoning  Lord." 

3  My  soul  obeys  the  almighty  call, 
And  runs  to  this  relief: 

I  would  believe  thy  promise,  Lord  : 
Oh,  help  my  unbelief! 

4  A  guilty,  weak,  and  helpless  worm, 
On  thy  kind  arms  I  fall : 

Be  thoumy  Strength  and  Righteousness, 
My  Saviour  ana  my  All. 

Taken  from  Book  II.  of  Dr.  Isaac  Watts, 
where  it  is  No.  90  and  has  six  stanzas ;  it  is 
entitled,  "  Faith  in  Christ  for  Pardon  and 
Sanctification."  It  is  interesting  to  notice  how 
saints  and  sinners  do  at  the  last  come  to  the 
same  conclusion  ;  how  all  theologies,  deep  or 
simple,  agree  at  the  foot  of  the  cross.  As  the 
late  Professor  Charles  Hodge,  of  Princeton, 
was  lying  on  his  dying  bed,  he  said,  quietly, 
"  My  work  is  done ;  the  pins  of  the  tabernacle 
are  taken  out."  Then  he  began  to  repeat  the 
lines : 

"  A  guilty,  weak,  and  helpless  worm. 
On  thy  kind  arms  I  fall;" 

but  his  powers  of  utterance  seemed  to  fail 
there.  His  sorrow-stricken  wife,  who  sat  be- 
side the  couch,  finished  the  stanza  for  him : 

"  Be  thou  my  Strength  and  Righteousness, 
My  Saviour  and  my  All." 

The   dying  husband   looked  up  and  spoke, 
"  'S)2i^,  Jesus"  and  then  breathed  his  last. 
Now,  on  the   other  hand,  far  away  from 


this,  there  once  was  found  an  instance  of 
similar  choice.  Rev.  Charles  Wesley  took 
deep  interest  in  seeking  the  salvation  of  poor 
criminals.  Within  three  months  after  his 
conversion  he  was  spending  days  and  nights 
with  condemned  malefactors  in  Newgate, 
several  of  whom  were  soundly  converted.  In 
his  Journal,  July  19,  1738,  he  records  accom- 
panying them  to  Tyburn  for  execution.  After 
he  prayed  with  them  on  the  scaffold  they  sang 
several  hymns.  They  were  all  happy  together. 
"  I  never  saw  such  calm  triumph,  such  in- 
credible indifference  to  dying ;  so  we  conclu- 
ded with  a  hymn  on  '  Faith  in  Christ,'  and 
closed  with — 

"  A  guilty,  weak,  and  helpless  worm, 

On  thy  kind  arms  I  fall ; 
Be  thou  my  Strength  and  Righteousness, 

My  Saviour  and  my  All.'  " 

564  The  Load  of  Sin.  C.  M. 

How  helpless  guilty  nature  lies, 

Unconscious  of  its  load  ! 
The  heart  unchanged  can  never  rise 

To  happiness  and  God. 

2  Can  aught,  beneath  a  power  divine, 
The  stubborn  will  subdue? 

'T  is  thine,  almighty  Spirit !  thine, 
To  form  the  heart  anew. 

3  'T  is  thine  the  passions  to  recall, 
And  upward  bid  them  rise ; 

To  make  the  scales  of  error  fall 
From  reason's  darkened  eyes — 

4  To  chase  the  shades  of  death  away, 
And  bid  the  sinner  live; 

A  beam  of  heaven,  a  vital  ray, 
'T  is  thine  alone  to  give. 

5  Oh,  change  these  wretched  hearts  of  ours, 
And  give  them  life  divine: 

Then  shall  our  passions  and  our  powers, 
Almighty  Lord  !  be  thine. 

Dr.  Caleb  Evans  published  a  new  and  en- 
larged edition  of  the  Poems  of  Miss  Anne 
Steele  in  three  volumes,  1780.  This  contains 
the  hymn  now  before  us,  but  it  is  not  found 
in  "  Theodosia's  "  two  volumes  of  twenty  years 
previous.  This  is  a  type,  like  the  preceding, 
of  the  doctrinal  matter  put  into  meter  and 
sung  by  most  of  the  Christian  denominations 
in  what  were  called  "  protracted  meetings " 
forty  or  fifty  years  ago.  The  doctrine  of  the 
hymn  is  this :  "  The  covenant  being  made' 
with  Adam  not  only  for  himself  but  for  his 
posterity,  all  mankind,  descending  from  him 
by  ordinary  generation,  sinned  in  him,  and 
fell  with  him  in  his  first  transgression.  The 
fall  brought  mankind  into  an  estate  of  sin  and 
misery.  The  sinfulness  of  that  estate  where- 
into  man  fell  consists  in  the  guilt  of  Adam's 
first  sin,  the  want  of  original  righteousness, 
and  the  corruption  of  his  whole  nature,  which 
is  commonly  called  Original  Sin,  together  with 
all  actual  transgressions  which  proceed  from 
it." 


248 


THE   GOSPEL  : — ATONEMENT    PROVIDED. 


565 


The  seeking  love  of  God. 


P.  M. 


God  loved  the  world  of  sinners  lost 

And  ruined  by  the  fall ; 
Salvation  full,  at  highest  cost, 

He  offers  free  to  all. 
Ref. — Oh,  't  was  love,  't  was  wondrous  love ! 
The  love  of  God  to  me; 
It  brought  my  Saviour  from  above, 
To  die  on  Calvary. 

2  Ev'n  now  by  faith  I  claim  him  mine. 
The  risen  Son  of  God  ; 

Redemption  by  his  death  I  find, 
And  cleansing  through  the  blood. — Ref. 

3  Love  brings  the  glorious  fullness  in. 
And  to  his  saints  makes  known 

The  blessed  rest  from  inbred  sin. 
Through  faith  in  Christ  alone. — Ref. 

4  Believing  souls,  rejoicing  go ; 
There  shall  to  you  be  given 

A  glorious  foretaste,  here  below, 
Of  endless  life  in  heaven. — Ref. 

5  Of  victory  now  o'er  Satan's  power 
Let  all  the  ransomed  sing. 

And  triumph  in  the  dying  hour 
Through  Christ  the  Lord  our  King. — Ref. 

Mrs.  Martha  Matilda  (Brustar)  Stockton, 
who  wrote  the  hymn  before  us  in  1871,  was 
the  wife  of  Rev.  W.  C.  Stockton,  of  Ocean 
City,  Cape  May  County,  New  Jersey.  She 
was  bom  June  11, 1821,  and  died  October  18, 
1885.  Nothing  further  can  be  learned  of  her 
personal  history ;  but  the  poem  which  bears 
her  name  is  a  general  favorite  both  in  the 
churches  and  in  the  Sunday-Schools,  and  ow- 
ing to  its  adoption  by  many  compilers  of  hymn- 
books  in  Great  Britain,  has  become  widely 
known  and  loved  by  English  singers  as  well 
as  by  those  on  this  side  of  the  sea. 

566  The  Canceled  Bond.  S.  M. 

He  gave  me  back  the  bond ; 

It  was  a  heavy  debt  ; 
And  as  he  gjave  he  smiled  and  said, 

"Thou  wilt  not  me  forget." 

2  He  gave  me  back  the  bond  ; 
The  seal  was  torn  away ; 

And  as  he  gave  he  smiled  and  said, 
"Think  thou  of  me  ahvay." 

3  That  bond  I  still  will  keep, 
Although  it  canceled  be, 

It  tells  me  of  the  love  of  him 
Who  paid  the  debt  for  me. 

4  I  look  on  it  and  smile; 
I  look  again  and  weep ; 

That  record  of  his  love  for  me 
I  will  for  ever  keep. 

5  It  is  a  bond  no  more; 
But  it  shall  ever  tell 

All  that  I  owed  was  fully  paid 
By  my  Immanuel. 

This  hymn  was  copied  for  Laudes  Domini 
from  the  Hymnal  Companion,  where  it  stood 
with  only  the  name  "  Sabine  "  attached  to  it. 
It  was  associated  with  the  Scripture  reference 
to  Luke  7 :  42.  But  of  late  it  has  been  an- 
nounced that  Charles  Stanley,  a  merchant  in 


Shefifield,  England,  was  the  author  of  the 
composition.  He  was  one  of  the  Plymouth 
Brethren,  born  about  1821.  He  published  a 
volume  called  Wild  Thyme,  and  in  this  the 
hymn  we  have  here  is  found.  This  informa- 
tion comes  from  the  Dictionary  of  Hym- 
nology,  1892,  and  we  have  nothing  beyond  it. 
The  legal  or  commercial  phase  of  the  senti- 
ment has  not  altogether  pleased  the  Ameri- 
can churches,  and  in  the  New  Laudes  Dom- 
ini, 1892,  it  has  been  dropped. 


NEWTON'S  CHURCH  AT  OLNEV. 


567  '' Amazing  Grace."  C.  M. 

A.MAZING  grace !  how  sweet  the  sound 
That  saved  a  wretch  like  me ! 

1  once  was  lost,  but  now  am  found — 
Was  blind,  but  now  I  see. 

2  'Twas  ^race  that  taught  my  heart  to  fear, 
And  grace  my  fears  relieved  ; 

How  precious  clid  that  grace  appear 
The  hour  I  first  believed  ! 

3  Through  many  dangers,  toils,  and  snares 
I  have  already  come ; 

'Tis  grace  hath  brought  me  safe  thus  far. 
Ana  grace  will  lead  me  home. 

4  Yea — when  this  flesh  and  heart  shall  fail. 
And  mortal  life  shall  cease, 

I  shall  possess,  within  the  vail, 
A  life  o*"  joy  and  peace. 

5  The  earth  shall  soon  dissolve  like  snow. 
The  sun  forbear  to  shine ; 

But  God,  who  called  me  here  below. 
Will  be  for  ever  mine. 


THE   PLAN   OF   SALVATION. 


249 


The  keynote  of  Rev.  John  Newton's  whole 
life  is  sounded  in  this  hymn — his  profound 
conviction  of  his  own  unworthiness.  He 
never  sought  to  go  beyond  this  utterance. 
In  his  sermons  as  well  as  in  all  his  hymns  he 
keeps  this  fact  before  his  own  mind.  His 
theology  is  not  at  all  somber,  but  the  rather 
bright  and  cheerful ;  for  it  never  sinks  below 
the  foundation  on  which  it  rests.  It  is  satis- 
fied with  the  abounding  mercy  of  God  shown 
toward  the  chief  of  sinners.  The  piece  is 
found  in  the  Olney  Hymns,  1779,  entitled, 
"  Faith's  Review,  and  Expectation." 

There  can  hardly  be  found  in  human  biog- 
raphy a  more  startling  contrast  than  our  im- 
agination furnishes  the  moment  we  think  of 
those  awful  experiences  of  this  man  as  a 
slaver  and  a  pirate,  and  then  think  of  the 
si.xteen  years  of  the  ministry  he  spent  in  the 
little  town  of  Olney,  quiet,  zealous,  useful, 
with  Cowper  for  his  comrade  and  the  Chris- 
tian world  for  his  friend.  The  tourist  who 
in  modern  times  visits  this  spot,  sacred  to  the 
memory  of  our  two  poets,  will  pass  out  into 
Cowper's  garden,  and  a  little  way  beyond 
look  across  the  Ouse,  and  see  shining  white 
among  the  beautiful  elms  the  steeple  of  the 
church  where  Newton  preached.  The  land- 
scape is  lovely,  but  the  suggestion  of  the  life 
that  was  passed  there  is  full  of  spiritual  won- 
derment. The  song  to  be  sung  beside  that 
stream  is  that  now  before  us,  "Amazing 
grace  !  how  sweet  the  sound." 

568  Zech.\z:\.  CM. 

There  is  a  fountain  filled  with  blood. 

Drawn  from  Immanuel's  veins ; 
And  sinners,  plunged  beneath  that  flood, 
Lose  all  their  guilty  stains. 

2  The  dying  thief  rejoiced  to  see 
That  fountain  in  his  day ; 

And  there  may  I,  though  vile  as  he, 
Wash  all  my  sins  away. 

3  Dear  dying  Lamb,  thy  precious  blood 
Shall  never  lose  its  power 

Till  all  the  ransomed  church  of  God 
Be  saved  to  sin  no  more. 

4  E'er  since,  by  faith,  I  saw  the  stream 
Thy  flowing  wounds  supply. 

Redeeming  love  has  been  my  theme. 
And  shall  be,  till  I  die. 

5  Then  in  a  nobler,  sweeter  song 
I  '11  sing  thy  power  to  save, 

When  this  poor  lisping,  stammering  tongue 
Lies  silent  in  the  grave. 

This  is  one  of  the  contributions  of  William 
Cowper  to  the  Olney  Hymns,  1 779.  It  seems 
likely  that  it  was  composed  eight  years  before. 
The  heading  of  it  is,  "  Praises  for  the  fountain 
opened,"  and  it  has  for  a  text,  Zechariah  13:1: 
"  In  that  day  there  shall  be  a  fountain  opened 
to  the  house  of  David  and  to  the  inhabitants 


of  Jerusalem  for  sin  and  for  uncleanness."  The 
incidents  which  might  be  related  concerning 
the  usefulness  of  these  five  simple  stanzas 
would  make  us  think  of  the  Evangelist's  affec- 
tionate extravagance :  "  And  there  are  also 
many  other  things  which  Jesus  did,  the  which, 
if  they  should  be  written  every  one,  I  suppose 
that  even  the  world  itself  could  not  contain 
the  books  that  should  be  written."  Biographies 
are  full  of  them  ;  tracts  are  made  out  of  them ; 
every  minister  of  the  gospel  has  his  memory 
crowded  with  them.  Literary  critics  find  great 
fault  with  some  of  its  expressions,  and  declare 
that  people  of  taste  do  not  know  what  they 
are  singing  about  when  they  speak  of  a  "  foun- 
tain filled,"  and  filled  with  "blood,"  the  blood 
drawn  from  the  veins  of  one  man  that  another 
man  might  be  "  washed"  in  it.  Still  the  spirit- 
ually-taught children  of  God  go  on  singing 
the  lines  undisturbed.  They  know  what  the 
hymn  means ;  they  may  not  be  able  to  tell 
others  exactly ;  but  they  go  on  singing,  and 
they  expect  to  go  on  singing  this,  and  "  Rock 
of  Ages "  with  it,  till  their  tongues  lie  silent 
in  the  grave. 

569  "Salvation."  CM. 

Salvation  !— oh,  the  joyful  sound ! 

'T  is  pleasure  to  our  ears ; 
A  sovereign  balm  for  every  wound, 

A  cordial  for  our  fears. 

2  Buried  in  sorrow  and  in  sin, 
At  hell's  dark  door  we  lav ; 

But  we  arise  by  grace  divine. 
To  see  a  heavenly  day. 

3  Salvation  .'—let  the  echo  fly 
The  spacious  earth  around  ; 

While  all  the  armies  of  the  sky 
Conspire  to  raise  the  sound. 

4  Salvation !  O  thou  bleeding  Lamb ! 
To  thee  the  praise  belongs : 

Salvation  shall  inspire  our  hearts, 
And  dwell  upon  our  tongues. 

In  Book  II.,  of  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  Hymns 
this  is  No.  88.  It  is  entitled,  "  Salvation,"  and 
appears  with  only  three  stanzas.  The  fourth, 
which  for  many  years  has  been  added  in  most 
of  the  compilations,  is  said  to  be  the  work  of 
Rev.  Walter  Shirley  in  1774. 

Casar  Malan  used  to  say  that  his  conver- 
sion to  the  Lord  Jesus  might  with  propriety 
be  compared  to  a  mother  rousing  an  infant 
with  a  kiss.  He  was  spared  the  doubts,  ter- 
rors, and  perplexities  through  which  so  many 
souls  have  passed  ere  they  tasted  the  joy  and 
peace  in  believing.  His  own  account  of  his 
experience  is  given  in  these  words :  "  One  af- 
ternoon, while  I  was  reading  the  New  Testa- 
ment at  my  desk,  while  my  pupils  were  pre- 
paring their  next  lesson,  I  turned  to  the  sec- 
ond chapter  of  Ephesians;  when  I   came  to 


250 


THE    gospel: — ATONEMENT    PROVIDED. 


the  words,  '  By  grace  are  ye  saved  through 
faith,  and  that  not  of  yourselves,  it  is  the 
gift  of  God,'  the  passage  seemed  to  shine  out 
before  my  eyes.  I  was  so  deeply  moved  by 
it  that  I  was  compelled  to  leave  the  room  and 
take  a  turn  in  the  court-yard,  where  I  walked 
up  and  down  exclaiming  with  intense  feeling, 
'  I  am  saved,  I  am  saved,  I  am  saved  !'  "  The 
passage  of  Captain  H.  Vicars  through  the 
door  was  equally  an  act  of  simple  faith  with- 
out any  terrifying  experience.  This  is  what 
Miss  Marsh  tells  us  :  "  It  was  in  the  month  of 
November,  1851,  that  while  awaiting  the  re- 
turn of  a  brother  officer  to  his  room  he  idly 
turned  over  the  leaves  of  a  Bible  which  lay  on 
his  table.  The  words  caught  his  eye,  '  The 
blood  of  Jesus  Christ  his  Son  cleanseth  us 
from  all  sin.'  Closing  the  book,  he  said  :  '  If 
this  be  true  for  me,  henceforth  I  will  live,  by 
the  grace  of  God,  as  a  man  should  live  who 
has  been  washed  in  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ.' 
That  night  he  scarcely  slept,  pondering  in  his 
heart  whether  it  were  presumptuous  or  not  to 
claim  an  interest  in  these  words.  During 
those  wakeful  hours  he  was  watched,  we  can- 
not doubt,  with  deep  and  loving  interest  by 
One  who  never  slumbereth  nor  sleepeth,  and 
it  was  said  of  him  in  heaven,  '  Behold,  he  pray- 
eth.'  "  In  answer  to  those  prayers  he  was 
enabled  to  believe,  as  he  rose  in  the  morning, 
that  the  message  of  peace  "  was  for  him." 
The  past,  then,  he  said,  is  blotted  out.  "  What 
I  have  to  do  is  to  go  forward.  I  cannot  re- 
turn to  the  sins  from  which  my  Saviour  has 
cleansed  me  with  his  own  blood."  From  this 
time  forth  Hedley  Vicars  was  known  as  a 
soldier  of  the  Heavenly  King. 

570  "Jesus  died  for  Me."  C.  M. 

Great  God,  when  I  approach  thy  throne, 

And  all  thy  glory  see, 
This  is  my  stay,  aiid  this  alone, 

That  Jesus  died  for  me. 

2  How  can  a  soul  condemned  to  die 
Escape  the  just  decree? 

Helpless,  and  full  of  sin  am  I, 
But  Jesus  died  for  me. 

3  Burdened  with  sin's  oppressive  chain, 
Oh,  how  can  I  get  free? 

No  peace  can  all  my  efforts  gain. 
But  Jesus  died  for  me. 

4  And,  Lord,  when  I  behold  thy  face, 
This  must  be  all  my  plea ; 

Save  me  by  thy  almighty  grace. 
For  Jesus  died  for  me. 

This  is  found  in  the  Psalms  and  Hymns 
of  Rev.  William  Hiley  Bathurst,  1831.  It  is 
entitled  very  simply,  "  Redemption."  The  re- 
frain with  which  each  verse  closes  has  a  char- 
acteristic attractiveness  for  the  American  mind, 
and  so  this  hymn  is  xtry  popular.  The  story 
is  told  of  a  merchant  whose  life  was  saved  at 


the  price  of  another  man's  once  in  case  of  a 
shipwreck.  He  was  aided,  as  the  waves  tossed 
him  helpless  and  exhausted  up  against  a  cliff, 
by  the  outstretched  hand  of  a  longshoreman ; 
but,  even  while  he  sank  down  on  the  rock 
where  he  was  saved,  he  had  the  unspeakable 
horror  of  beholding  his  rescuer  swept  off  the 
foothold  and  instantly  drowned  before  his 
eyes.  He  could  never  get  over  the  shock ;  he 
was  not  crazed,  he  was  as  strong  and  bright 
as  ever.  But  whenever  he  had  finished  his 
business  errand,  he  would  go  up  to  the  sales- 
man of  whom  he  bought  his  goods,  and,  tak- 
ing his  hand,  would  say  gently,  "  A  man  died 
for  me!"  He  never  omitted  this  act ;  some 
thought  him  queer,  but  he  always  came  back 
to  remove  his  hat,  put  out  his  hand,  and  al- 
most whisper,  "  A  man  died  for  me."  His 
eyes  would  be  moist,  his  tones  would  be 
tremulous,  but  he  was  not  crazy — only  rever- 
ent and  grateful — as  he  said  his  quiet  little 
sentence,  "  A  man  died  for  me  !" 

57  I  Divine  compassion.  C.  M. 

Jesus — and  didst  thou  leave  the  sky, 

To  bear  our  griefs  and  woes  ? 
And  didst  thou  bleed,  and  groan,  and  die. 

For  thy  rebellious  foes  ? 

2  Well  might  the  heavens  with  wonder  view 
A  love  so  strange  as  thine  ! 

No  thought  of  angels  ever  knew 
Compassion  so  divine ! 

3  Is  there  a  heart  that  will  not  bend 
To  thy  divine  control  ? 

Descend,  O  sovereign  lov-e,  descend, 
And  melt  that  stubborn  soul. 

4  Oh !  may  our  willing  hearts  confess 
Thy  sweet,  thy  gentle  sway  ; 

Glad  captives  of  thy  matchless  grace, 
Thy  righteous  rule  obey. 

In  the  Poems  by  Theodosia,  1760,  Miss 
Anne  Steele  included  one  of  nine  stanzas, 
commencing,  "Jesus,  in  thy  transporting 
name,"  from  which  this  hymn  was  com- 
piled. 

572  Lovtng-kindness.  L.  M. 

Awake,  my  soul,  to  joyful  lays, 
And  sing  tliy  great  Redeemer's  praise ; 
He  justly  claims  a  song  from  me: 
His  loving-kindness,  oh,  how  free! 

2  He  saw  me  ruined  in  the  fall. 
Vet  loved  me,  notwithstanding  all ; 
He  saved  me  from  my  lost  estate : 
His  loving-kindness,  oh,  how  great ! 

3  Though  numerous  hosts  of  mighty  foes, 
Though  earth  and  hell  my  way  oppose, 
He  safely  leads  my  soul  along: 

His  loving-kindness,  oh,  how  strong ! 

4  When  trouble,  like  a  gloomy  cloud, 
Has  gathered  thick  and  thundered  loud. 
He  near  my  soul  has  always  stood  : 

His  loving-kindness,  oh,  how  good  ! 

The  hymns  of  that  faithful  Baptist  pastor, 
Rev.  Samuel  Medley,  were  originally  printed 


THE   PLAN   OF  SALVATION, 


251 


on  what  in  those  times  were  called  "  broad- 
sheets "  or  "  broadsides,"  such  as  we  call 
"  slips  "  now ;  this  was  for  easy  and  cheap 
distribution  among  large  audiences.  By  and 
by  some  of  these  were  gathered  together  and 
put  in  a  book.  This  one  appeared  earliest  in 
the  Collection  of  Hymns  for  use  in  Lady 
Huntingdon's  Chapel,  in  Cumberland  St., 
Shoreditch,  1782.  The  popularity  it  has  in 
America  is  owing  much  to  the  refrain  which 
closes  every  stanza,  and  the  odd  old  melody 
to  which  it  has  been  sung  in  a  thousand 
camp  -  meetings.  East  and  West,  over  the 
land  for  unreckoned  years. 

573  Our  Surety.  H.  M. 

Arise,  my  soul,  arise! 

Shake  off  thy  guilty  fears ; 
The  bleeding  Sacrifice 
In  my  behalf  appears  ; 
Before  the  throne  my  Surety  stands ; 
My  name  is  written  on  his  hands. 

2  He  ever  lives  above. 
For  me  to  intercede. 

His  all-redeeming  love, 
His  precious  blood  to  plead  ; 
His  blood  atoned  for  all  our  race, 
And  sprinkles  now  the  throne  of  grace. 

3  My  God  is  reconciled ; 

His  pardoning  voice  I  hear ; 
He  owns  me  for  his  child ; 

I  can  no  longer  fear ; 
With  confidence  I  now  draw  nigh. 
And  Father,  Abba,  Father,  cry. 

The  Hymtis  and  Sacred  Poems  of  Rev. 
Charles  Wesley,  published,  in  1739,  contain 
this  piece  in  its  original  form  of  five  stanzas. 
It  has  since  been  included  in  many  hymnals 
of  various  denominations,  and  has  been 
translated  into  several  languages.  The  poem 
expresses  the  confidence  in  God's  willingness 
to  pardon  sin,  which  a  repentant  believer  has 
a  right  to  feel  in  view  of  the  atonement 
Christ  has  made  for  us. 

"  I  have  blotted  out  as  a  cloud  thy  trans- 
gressions, and  as  a  thick  cloud  thy  sins." 
(Isaiah  44  :  22).  When  God  accuses  his  peo- 
ple, he  says,  "  But  your  iniquities  have  sepa- 
rated between  you  and  your  God,  and  your 
sins  have  hid  his  face  from  you."  Here  the 
cloud  is  between  the  Lord  and  his  children, 
hiding  his  face  and  bringing  darkness  upon 
them,  clouding  their  hearts  and  glooming 
their  minds.  But  in  forgiveness  the  sky  is 
swept  of  clouds,  the  sun  shines  once  more 
undimmed ;  God's  hand  sweeping  through 
the  heavens  has  cleared  it  and  in  so  doing 
has  cleared  the  soul  of  its  gloom. 

574  Year  of  Jubilee.  H.  M. 

Blow  ye  the  trumpet,  blow — 

The  gladly  solemn  sound  ; 
Let  all  the  nations  know, 

To  earth's  remotest  bound, 


The  year  of  jubilee  is  come : 
Return,  ye  ransomed  sinners,  home. 

2  Jesus,  our  great  High  Priest, 
Hath  full  atonement  made; 

Ve  weary  spirits,  rest ; 
Ye  mournful  souls,  be  glad  : 
The  year  of  jubilee  is  come  : 
Return,  ye  ransomed  sinners,  home. 

3  Extol  the  Lamb  of  God, 
The  all-atoninjj  Lamb ; 

Redemption  in  his  blood 
Throughout  the  world  proclaim : 
The  year  of  jubilee  is  come  : 
Return,  ye  ransomed  sinners,  home. 

4  The  gospel  trumpet  hear. 
The  news  of  heavenly  grace ; 

And,  saved  from  earth,  appear 
Before  your  Saviour's  face  ; 
The  year  of  jubilee  is  come ! 
Return,  ye  ransomed  sinners,  home. 

In  Rev.  Charles  Wesley's  Hymns  for 
New  Years  Day,  1750,  this  poem  first  ap- 
peared. It  was  suggested  by  the  passage  in 
the  twenty-fifth  chapter  of  Leviticus,  describ- 
ing the  proclamation  of  the  jubilee  every  fif- 
tieth year  by  a  sound  of  trumpets  throughout 
the  land.  As  that  message  was  carried  on 
the  winds  every  man  returned  to  his  own 
family  to  celebrate  the  feast,  and  liberty  was 
proclaimed  to  all  who  were  in  bondage.  We 
have  no  feast  of  jubilee,  as  such,  in  our  time, 
but  there  is  a  jubilee  of  the  heart  and  of  the 
nation  and  of  the  church  and  of  the  world. 
Peace  blows  trumpets  of  joy.  A  tragedy  of 
the  old  Greek  poet  ^schylus  relates  that 
when  Agamemnon  sailed  for  Troy  with  the 
other  Greeks,  he  arranged  to  convey  quick 
intelligence  of  the  capture  of  the  city  to  his 
wife,  Clytemnestra,  by  means  of  a  chain  of 
signal-fires.  Ten  long  years  passed,  during 
all  which  Clytemnestra's  watchman  had  kept 
vigil  on  her  palace  roof — learning  the  nightly 
assemblies  of  the  stars,  and  their  risings  and 
settings.  At  last  Troy  fell,  and  the  beacon- 
light  flashed  from  mountain-top  to  mountain- 
top,  with  the  good  news  to  all  Greeks,  which 
should  waken  many  an  assembly  and  dance 
in  Argos.  The  enemy  had  been  vanquished, 
and  the  victors  could  return  to  their  homes 
in  peace. 

When  the  first  settlers  at  Plymouth,  in 
Massachusetts,  were  reduced  to  considerable 
straits,  and  had  sent  out  small  expeditions  in 
search  of  such  sustenance  and  support  as 
might  be  had,  and  when  great  doubt  was 
entertained  as  to  the  feeling  of  the  savage 
tribes  towards  themselves,  the  camp  was  one 
day  surprised  by  the  approach  of  a  savage 
who  addressed  them  in  English  with  the 
words,  "  Welcome,  Englishmen  !"  Peace 
and  good-will  was  the  burden  of  that  glad 
message  of  good  news. 


252 


J  HE   gospel: — ATONEMENT   PROVIDED. 


575  "  The  Cross  alone." 

Ye  saints,  your  music  bring. 
Attuned  to  sweetest  sound, 
Strike  every  trembling  string, 
Till  earth  and  heaven  resound ; 
The  triumphs  of  the  cross  we  sing; 
Awake,  ye  saints,  each  joyful  string. 

2  The  cross,  the  cross  alone. 
Subdued  the  powers  of  hell ; 

Like  lightning  from  his  throne 

The  prince  of  darkness  fell ; 

The  triumphs  of  the  cross  we  sing; 

Awake,  ye  saints,  each  joyful  string. 

3  The  cross  hath  power  to  save 
From  all  the  foes  that  rise ; 

The  cross  hath  made  the  grave 
A  passage  to  the  skies ; 
The  tnumphs  of  the  cross  we  sing; 
Awake,  ye  saints,  each  joyful  string. 

Rev.  Dr.  Andrew  Reed,  who  received  his 
degree  from  Yale  College,  while  he  was  pastor 
in  London,  published  this  hymn  of  his  own 
composition  in  a  Supplement  to  Watts'  Psalms 
and  Hymns,  1817.  It  was  entitled,  "  Praise  of 
the  Cross." 


576 


H.  M. 


The  sacrifice  offered. 

The  atoning  work  is  done. 

The  Victim's  blood  is  shed. 
And  Jesus  now  is  gone 
His  people's  cause  to  plead  : 
He  stands  in  heaven  their  great  High  Priest, 
And  bears  their  names  upon  his  breast. 

2  He  sprinkled  with  his  blood 
The  mercy-seat  above ; 

For  justice  had  withstood 
The  purposes  of  love ; 
But  justice  now  withstands  no  more, 
And  mercy  yields  her  boundless  store. 

3  No  temple  made  with  hands 
His  place  of  ser\Mce  is  ; 

In  heaven  itself  he  stands, 
A  heavenly  priesthood  his  : 
In  him  the  shadows  of  the  law 
Are  all  fulfilled,  and  now  withdraw. 

This  poem  by  Rev.  Thomas  Kelly  was  first 
published  in  his  Hymns,  1806,  and  has  been 
widely  used  in  its  present  form.  It  is  a  para- 
phrase of  the  passage,  Hebrews  10  :  10-14,  in 
which  Christ  is  represented  as  the  High  Priest 
who  has  made  complete  atonement  for  the 
sins  of  the  people,  and  satisfied  the  demands 
of  the  law.  And  this,  likewise,  is  just  the  en- 
gagement of  the  old  Psalm  :  "  As  far  as  the 
east  is  from  the  west,  so  far  hath  he  re- 
moved our  transgressions  from  us."  Wonder- 
ful promise  this  !  For  who  can  tell  how  far 
the  east  is  from  the  west }  The  sailor  that 
navigates  the  globe  says  that  he  never  finds 
the  west — that  it  is  always  before  him,  but 
never  found.  He  sails  to  one  point  which  lies 
west,  and  when  he  is  there  he  hears  them  tell- 
ing of  the  west  still  as  farther  on.  So  God's 
forgiveness  puts  our  sins  into  a  far-off  land 
which  we  can  never  find,  as  well  as  into  a 
deep  which  we  can  never  fathom. 


H.  M.       577  Christ  the  Surety.  H.  M. 

Jesus,  my  great  High  Priest, 
Offered  his  blood  and  died  ; 
My  guilty  conscience  seeks 
No  sacrifice  beside. 
His  precious  blood  did  once  atone  ; 
And  now  it  pleads  before  the  throne. 

2  To  this  dear  Surety's  hand 
Will  I  commit  my  cause; 

He  answers  and  fulfills 
His  Father's  broken  laws. 
Behold  my  soul  at  freedom  set ; 
My  Surety  paid  the  dreadful  debt. 

3  My  great  and  glorious  Lord, 
My  Conqueror  and  my  King, 

Thy  scepter  and  thy  sword. 
Thy  reigning  grace  I  sing. 
Thine  is  the  power ;  behold  I  sit 
In  willing  bonds  beneath  thy  feet. 

This  poem  by  Rev.  Dr.  Isaac  Watts  is  made 
up  of  portions  of  two  longer  ones  which  first 
appeared  in  his  Hymns  and  Sacred  Songs, 
1 709.  It  has  been  much  altered  and  abbrevi- 
ated, but  is  regarded  as  one  of  its  author's 
finest  works,  and  is  extensively  used.  The 
leading  idea  of  the  hymn  is  the  absolute  suffi- 
ciency of  Christ's  sacrifice  as  an  atonement 
for  mankind.  "  For  thou  hast  cast  all  my  sins 
behind  thy  back  "  (Isaiah  38  :  17).  David,  in 
his  penitence,  cried  out,  "  Thou  hast  set  my 
iniquities  before  thee,  my  secret  sins  in  the 
light  of  thy  countenance."  We  see,  at  once, 
what  a  change  forgiveness  effects.  Our  sins 
are  behind  God  now,  instead  of  before  him. 
He  is  between  us  and  our  sins,  instead  of  our 
sins  being  between  us  and  him.  He  thus  hides 
us  from  our  transgressions,  instead  of  our 
transgressions  hiding  us  from  him. 


578  Thine,  not  mine.  H.  M. 

Thy  works,  not  mine,  O  Christ, 
Speak  gladness  to  this  heart ; 

They  tell  me  all  is  done ; 
They  bid  my  fear  depart : 
To  whom,  save  thee,  who  canst  alone 

For  sin  atone.  Lord,  shall  I  flee? 

2  Thy  tears,  not  mine,  O  Christ, 
Have  wept  my  §uilt  away. 

And  turned  this  night  of  mine 
Into  the  blessed  day  : 
To  whom,  save  thee,  who  canst  alone 
For  sin  atone.  Lord,  shall  I  flee? 

3  Thy  wounds,  not  mine,  O  Christ, 
Can  heal  my  bruised  soul ; 

Thy  stripes,  not  mine,  contain 
The  balm  that  makes  me  whole  : 
To  whom,  save  thee,  who  canst  alone 
For  sin  atone.  Lord,  shall  I  flee  ? 

4  Thy  death,  not  mine,  O  Christ, 
Has  paid  the  ransom  due ; 

Ten  thousand  deaths  like  mine 
Would  have  been  all  too  few : 
To  whom,  save  thee,  who  canst  alone 
For  sin  atone.  Lord,  shall  I  flee? 

Talk  about  the  "  folly  of  singing  didactic 
theology  in  hymns  !"  When  did  Dr.  Horatius 
Bonar  ever  sing  anything  else?     This  piece 


THE   PLAN    OF   SALVATION. 


253 


before  us  is  one  of  the  best,  the  most  singa- 
ble, the  most  popular,  he  ever  wrote  ;  and  yet 
it  is  the  embodiment  of  the  grand  old  doctrine 
of  substitution  of  God's  only-begotten  Son  for 
the  sinner  in  the  process  of  redemption.  And 
the  refrain  at  the  end  of  each  stanza  is  what 
the  churches  in  America  especially  like.  It  is 
found  in  the  First  Series  of  Hymtis  of  Faith 
and //ope;  iSSi7,  entitied,  "The  Sinbearer," 
and  associated  with  the  text,  Isaiah  53:5: 
"  But  he  was  wounded  for  our  transgressions, 
he  was  bruised  for  our  iniquities  :  the  chas- 
tisement of  our  peace  was  upon  him ;  and 
with  his  stripes  we  are  healed." 


579 


The  Father. 


C.  M.  5I. 


Eternal  Light !  eternal  Light ! 

How  pure  the  soul  must  be, 
When,  placed  within  thy  searching  sight, 
It  shrinks  not,  but  with  calm  delight 

Can  live,  and  look  on  thee ! 

•  2  The  spirits  that  surround  thy  throne 

May  bear  the  burning  bliss ; 
But  that  is  surely  theirs  alone, 
Since  they  have  never,  never  known 

A  fallen  world  like  this. 

3  There  is  a  way  for  man  to  rise 
To  that  sublime  abode — 

An  offering  and  a  sacrifice, 
A  Holy  Spirit's  energies, 
An  advocate  with  God. 

4  These,  these  prepare  us  for  the  sight 
Of  holiness  above : 

The  sons  of  ignorance  and  night 

May  dwell  in  the  eternal  Light, 

Through  the  eternal  Love  ! 

The  pastor  of  the  "  King's  Weigh-House 
Chapel  "  in  London,  Rev.  Thomas  Binney, 
D.  D.,  LL.  D.,  was  a  conspicuous  figure  in 
British  history  for  more  than  forty  years  of 
honest  service  as  a  preacher,  a  controversialist, 
and  a  writer  at  the  very  center  of  influence  and 
power.  A  man  of  splendid  natural  gifts,  thor- 
ough independence  of  character,  accepted  at 
once  into  leadership  as  a  pattern  of  grace  and 
courage,  the  model  of  unselfish  consideration 
of  others  and  yet  the  gentlest  of  men  in  his  al- 
most obstinate  resistance  to  what  he  considered 
error,  he  had  the  testimony  of  all  who  knew  him 
to  his  spirituality  and  force.  What  the  ordi- 
nary annals  of  his  time  have  to  say  any  one  can 
read  ;  the  life  he  lived  was  all  open.  He  was 
born  at  Newcastle-on-Tyne,  in  April,  1798. 
Seven  years  of  his  youth  were  spent  in  his 
native  town  in  the  employ  of  a  bookseller,  and 
there  he  began  his  literary  career  by  the  pub- 
lishing of  a  poem  in  one  of  the  local  journals. 
His  academic  education  was  received  in  the 
north  of  England,  and  he  was  prepared  for 
the  ministry  at  Wymondley  College  in  Herts. 
His  first  conspicuous  pastoral  charge  was  in 
St.  James'  Church,  or  Chapel  as  some  called  it. 


THOMAS  BINNEY,  D.  D. 

of  the  Congregational  order,  in  Newport,  on 
the  Isle  of  Wight. 

Here,  the  story  runs,  he  composed  the 
hymn  now  before  us,  having  been  thrown 
into  a  mood  of  poetic  reflection  by  the  con- 
templation of  a  night  brilliant  with  stars  shi- 
ning like  the  eyes  of  God  overhead.  The 
poem  lay  for  a  long  time  in  the  obscurity  of  a 
lady's  album.  This  was  in  1826;  he  went  to 
Newport  in  1824,  and  five  years  afterward  he 
moved  to  London  to  assume  his  life-work  in  one 
of  the  oldest  of  the  Nonconformist  congrega- 
tions in  Britain.  He  made  the  Weigh-House 
Chapel  one  of  the  sources  of  strength  of  all 
those  who  did  not  favor  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land. He  wrote  books  upon  such  themes  as 
these  :  "  Dissent  not  Schism  ;"  "  The  Chris- 
tian Ministry  not  a  Priesthood  ;"  "  Are  Dis- 
senters to  have  a  Liturgy  ?"  and  "  Conscien- 
tious Clerical  Nonconformity."  The  hymn 
was  finally  published  in  the  English  Baptist 
Psalms  and  Hymns,  1858,  and  swiftly  after- 
wards taken  into  all  the  collections. 

Thus  his  long  life  was  passed  in  the  midst 
of  solid  and  enduring  work.  He  was  most 
popular  with  young  men.  His  loveliness  of 
spirit,  his  gentlemanly  manners  as  one  of  the 
old  school  of  natural  courtliness,  his  very 
look  of  benignity  combined  with  the  majesty 
of  his  prodigious  frame,  made  him  the  marked 


254 


THE   GOSPEL  : — ATONEMENT    PROVIDED. 


man  in  whatever  presence  he  stood.  He 
traveled  much,  visiting  the  United  States  and 
Canada  in  1845,  and  Australia  in  1857.'  Yet 
he  came  home  to  die  ;  so  infirm  at  the  last  as 
to  be  compelled  to  preach  sitting  in  the  pulpit. 
He  closed  his  labors  and  went  home  to  his 
rest,  February  24,  1874.  The  University  of 
Aberdeen  gave  him  his  degree  of  D.  D.,  and 
that  of  LL.  D.  he  received  from  America.  His 
honors,  like  his  fame,  were  cosmopolitan. 

580  The  Son.  C.  M.  5I. 

O  Saviour,  where  shall  guilty  man 

Find  rest  except  in  thee  ? 
Thine  was  the  warfare  with  his  foe. 
The  cross  of  pain,  the  cup  of  woe, 

And  thine  the  victory. 

2  How  came  the  everlasting  Son, 

The  Lord  of  life,  to  die? 
Why  didst  thou  meet  the  tempter's  power, 
Why,  Jesus,  in  thy  dying  hour, 

Endure  such  agony  ? 

t  3  To  save  us  by  thy  precious  blood, 

To  make  us  one  in  thee, 
That  ours  might  be  thy  perfect  life, 
Thy  thorny  crown,  thy  cross,  thy  strife. 

And  ours  the  victory. 

4  Oh,  make  us  worthy,  gracious  Lord, 

Of  all  thy  love  to  be  ; 
To  thy  blest  will  our  wills  incline, 
That  unto  death  we  may  be  thine, 

And  ever  live  in  thee. 

It  is  from  Dr.  P.  Maurice's  Choral  Hymn- 
Book,  published  in  London,  in  1861,  that  this 
piece  is  taken.  But  it  is  very  difficult  to 
place  "  C.  E.  May,"  whose  name  is  there  ap- 
pended to  it.  It  is  probable  that  the  con- 
tributor to  Dr.  Maurice's  volume  of  lyrics 
was  the  wife  of  Rev.  George  May,  M.  A., 
who  was  the  vicar  of  Liddington,  Wilts, 
England,  in  1861. 

58 1  The  Holy  Ghost.  C.  M.  5I. 

Come,  thou  who  dost  the  soul  endue 

With  sevenfold  gifts  of  grace; 
Come,  thou  who  dost  the  world  renew, 
Author  of  peace,  consoler  true. 

Spirit  of  holiness. 

2  Thou  didst  the  gospel-trumpet  sound 
O'er  all  the  world  afar ; 

And  summon  from  their  sleep  profound 
The  dead,  who  lay  in  darkness  round. 
To  hail  the  Morning  Star. 

3  Thme  be  all  praise  for  evermore. 
From  all  salvation's  heirs ; 

Thy  goodness,  truth,  and  love,  and  power. 
Let  all  created  worlds  adore 
In  holy  hymns  and  prayers. 

4  O  thou,  who  teachest  us  to  place 
In  thee  our  hope  and  trust. 

The  stains  of  former  g^ilt  efface, 
Confirm  the  innocent  in  grace, 
And  glorify  the  just.    ■ 

This  hymn,  which  has  been  rendered  from 
the  Latin  "Almum  Jlamen  vita  mundi,"  by 
Rev.  Edward  Caswall,  is  of  unknown  origin. 
It  appeared  in  a  small  collection  published  in 


Cologne  in  1806,  in  a  form  which  was  not 
adapted  to  use  in  the  churches,  being  in  seven 
stanzas  of  nine  lines  each.  This  translation, 
given  in  the  Masque  of  Mary,  and  other 
Poetns,  1858,  altered  its  meter  and  sanctioned 
the  present  form,  which  begins  with  the 
second  verse  of  the  original.  The  central 
idea  of  the  poem  is  that  of  many  of  the  old 
Latin  hymns,  the  necessity  of  the  teaching  of 
the  Holy  Spirit  to  prepare  the  human  heart 
to  receive  divine  truth. 

There  was  no  profit  in  opening  a  way  to 
man,  though  it  was  a  way  of  restoration.  He 
would  not  walk  in  it.  The  fault  was  never  in 
God's  truth  when  human  beings  rejected  it. 
Pilate  did  indeed  once  ask  petulantly  :  What 
is  truth  }  But  Pilate  had  no  more  complaint 
to  make,  as  he  gave  Jesus  over  to  crucifixion, 
than  had  Saul  of  Tarsus  when  he  fell  blinded 
before  him  on  the  road  to  Damascus.  Truth 
is  the  same.  It  was  the  same  sermon  exactly, 
which  men  would  not  heed  and  hear  from 
Isaiah,  that  the  Ethiopian  eunuch,  out  in  the 
desert  seven  hundred  years  later,  did  hear ; 
and  he  was  saved.  The  difference  in  success 
with  the  truth  always  is  owing  to  the  presence 
in  it,  or  the  absence  from  it,  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
Paul  may  plant,  Apollos  may  water,  in  vain. 
It  is  God  the  Spirit  who  giveth  the  increase. 
Personal  holiness  is  distasteful  to  most  men. 
They  need  God  himself  to  give  them  a  liking 
for  it  and  a  disposition  to  strive  after  it. 

582  "  A  Saviour's  Blood."  C.  M.  5I. 
Go,  tune  thy  voice  to  sacred  song. 

Exert  thy  noblest  powers ; 
Go,  mingle  with  the  choral  throng, 
The  Saviour's  praises  to  prolong, 

Amid  life's  fleeting  hours. 

2  Oh  !  hast  thou  felt  a  Saviour's  love. 
That  flame  of  heavenly  birth  ? 

Then  let  thy  strains  melodious  prove. 
With  raptures  soaring  far  above 
The  trifling  toys  of  earth. 

3  Hast  found  the  pearl  of  price  unknown 
That  cost  a  Saviour's  blood? 

Heir  of  a  bright  celestial  crown. 
That  si)arkles  near  the  eternal  throne, 
Oh,  sing  the  praise  of  God  ! 

4  Sing  of  the  Lamb  that  once  was  slain 
That  man  might  be  forgiven  ; 

Sing  how  he  broke  death's  bars  in  twain, 
Ascending  high  in  bliss  to  reign. 
The  God  of  earth  and  heaven  ! 

This  hymn  was  written  by  Thomas  Hast- 
ings, Mus.  Doc,  known  to  us  by  his  composi- 
tions of  both  music  and  song.  It  was  pub- 
lished first  in  the  Christian  Psalmist,  1 836, 
and  entitled,  "  Praise." 

583  "Eternal life."  C.  M.  5I. 
WOULDST  thou  eternal  life  obtain  ? 

Now  to  the  cross  repair ; 
There  stand  and  gaze  and  weep  and  pray 
Where  Jesus  breathes  his  life  away ; 

Eternal  life  is  there ! 


THE   PLAN    OF   SALVATION. 


255 


2  Go — 't  is  the  Son  of  God  expires  ! 
Approach  the  shameful  tree  : 

See  quivering  there  the  mortal  dart, 
In  the  Redeemer's  loving  heart, 
O  sinful  soul,  for  thee  ! 

3  Go — there  from  ever>-  streaming  wound 
Flows  rich  atoning  blood  : 

That  blood  can  cleanse  thy  deepest  stain, 
Bid  frowning  justice  smile  again, 
And  seal  thy  peace  with  God. 

4  Go — at  that  cross  thy  heart  subdued, 
With  thankful  love  shall  glow  ; 

By  wondrous  grace  thy  soul  set  free. 
Eternal  life  from  Christ  to  thee 
A  vital  stream  shall  flow ! 

The  hymns  which  have  been  inspired  by 
the  crucifixion  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  are 
among  the  noblest  of  the  church's  songs. 
From  the  early  Greek  and  Latin  writers  until 
the  time  in  which  we  live  that  theme  has 
called  out  the  poet's  highest  powers.  Among 
the  many  valuable  hymns  by  Dr.  Ray  Palmer 
is  the  one  quoted  here,  which  was  written  in 
1864,  and  entitled  "  Good  Friday."  It  ap- 
peared first  in  Songs  for  the  Sanctuary,  1865. 

When  Munkacsy's  famous  painting  was  on 
exhibition  in  Hamilton,  Canada,  there  came 
walking  up  a  rough  rude  man,  evidently  a 
sailor  from  one  of  the  lake  boats.  "  Is  Christ 
in  here .-'"  he  asked  roughly.  The  attendant 
was  so  taken  back  by  the  rude,  blunt  ques- 
tion that  she  was  speechless  for  a  moment. 
"  How  much  to  see  Christ  ?"  he  demanded. 
She  told  him  that  the  admission  fee  was  a 
quarter.  "  Well,  I  guess  I  '11  have  to  pay  it," 
he  growled,  and  putting  down  a  piece  of  sil- 
ver, he  brushed  past  her.  He  sat  down  in 
front  of  the  great  picture  and  studied  it  for  a 
moment  or  two ;  then,  by  and  by,  off  came 
his  hat.  He  studied  it  a  little  longer,  and 
then,  leaning  down,  he  picked  up  the  descrip- 
tive catalogue  which  he  had  let  fall  as  he  took 
his  seat.  He  read  it  over,  studied  the  paint- 
ing anew,  dropping  his  face  in  his  hands  at 
intervals.  And  so  he  stayed  there  for  a  full 
hour.  When  he  came  out  there  were  tears  in 
his  eyes,  and  in  a  voice  full  of  sobs  he  said  to 
the  attendant,  "  Madam,  I  came  to  see  Christ 
because  my  mother  asked  me  to.  I  am  a 
rough  man  sailing  on  the  lakes,  and  before  I 
went  on  this  cruise  my  mother  wanted  me  to 
see  this  picture,  and  I  came  in  to  please  her. 
I  never  believed  in  any  such  thing,  but  the 
man  who  could  paint  a  picture  like  that,  he 
must  have  believed  in  it.  There  is  something 
in  it  that  makes  me  believe  it,  too.  Madam, 
God  helping  me,  I  am  a  changed  man  from 
to-day."  Herein  is  the  fulfilment  of  one  of 
our  Lord's  best  promises  :  "And  I,  if  I  be  lift- 
ed up  from  the  earth,  will  draw  all  men  unto 
me."     John  12  :32. 


584  "O  holy  Lamb .'"  C.  M.  5I. 

O  Saviour,  lend  a  listening  ear. 

And  answer  my  request  1 
Forgive,  and  wipe  the  falling  tear, 
Now  with  thy  love  my  spirit  cheer. 

And  set  my  heart  at  rest. 

2  I  mourn  the  hidings  of  thy  face  ; 
The  absence  of  that  smile 

Which  led  me  to  a  throne  of  grace, 
And  gave  my  soul  a  resting-place 
From  earthly  care  and  toil. 

3  'T  is  sin  that  separates  from  thee 
This  poor  benighted  soul : 

My  folly  and  my  guilt  I  see, 
And  now  upon  the  bended  knee 
I  yield  to  thy  control. 

4  Up  to  the  place  of  thine  abode 
I  lift  my  waiting  eye; 

To  thee,  O  holy  Lamb  of  God ! 
Whose  blood  for  me  so  freely  flowed, 
I  raise  my  ardent  cry. 

Another  of  Dr.  Thomas  Hastings'  excellent 
hymns  in  the  same  meter  as  the  other  just 
before,  and  equally  welcome  among  the 
churches.  This  first  appeared  in  the  Addi- 
tional Hymns  of  the  Reformed  Dutch  Collec- 
tion, 1846. 

Pious  Wickliffe  used  to  pray :  "  O  good 
Lord,  save  me  gratis!"  And  Christ  does 
save  gratis,  if  he  saves  at  all.  Sinners  must 
be  content  to  owe  everything  they  receive  to 
the  recognized  grace  which  shines  on  Jesus' 
forehead  and  warms  in  his  heart. 


585 


"Lamb  of  God/" 


8s,  7s,  7s. 


Let  us  love  and  sing  and  wonder, 
Let  us  praise  the  Saviour's  name! 

He  has  hushed  the  law's  loud  thunder, 
He  has  quenched  Mount  Sinai's  flame. 

He  has  washed  us  in  his  blood, 

He  has  brought  us  nigh  to  God. 

2  Let  us  love  the  Lord  who  bought  us, 
Pitied  us  when  enemies ; 

Called  us  by  his  grace,  and  taught  us, 

Healed  the  blindness  of  our  eyes : 
He  has  washed  us  in  his  blood. 
He  presents  our  souls  to  God. 

3  Let  us  sing,  though  fierce  temptation 
Threaten  hard  to  bear  us  down  ! 

For  the  Lord,  our  strong  salvation, 

Holds  in  view  the  conqueror's  crown  : 
He,  who  washed  us  in  his  blood. 
Soon  will  bring  us  home  to  God. 

4  Let  us  praise,  and  join  the  chorus 
Of  the  saints  enthroned  on  high  ; 

Here  they  trusted  him  before  us. 
Now  their  praises  fill  the  skv  : 
"  Thou  hast  washed  us  in  thy  blood. 
Thou  art  worthy.  Lamb  of  God  1" 

Rev.  John  Newton  published  this  piece  in 
his  Twenty-six  Letters  on  Religious  Subjects, 
by  Omicron,  1774.  There  it  was  entitled, 
"  Praise  for  Redeeming  Love."  It  was  print- 
ed also,  the  same  year,  in  the  Gospel  Maga- 
zine for  May ;  and  by  and  by  it  was  included 
in  the  Olney  Hymns,  1779.  It  is  one  of  the 
most  joyous  anthems  of  exhilaration  and  hope 


256 


THE  GOSPEL: — ATONEMENT  OFFERED. 


known  to  our  language.  The  law  is  hushed, 
Sinai  is  quenched,  Satan  is  defeated,  heaven 
is  opened,  the  crown  is  shining,  home  is  near, 
"  Thou  art  worthy.  Lamb  of  God !'" 

586  The  Atonement.  8s,  7s,  7s. 

He,  who  once  in  righteous  vengeance 
Whelmed  the  world  beneath  the  flood. 

Once  again  in  mercy  cleansed  it 
With  his  own  most  precious  blood  ; 

Coming  from  his  throne  on  high, 

On  the  painful  cross  to  die. 

2  Oh,  the  wisdom  of  the  Eternal ! 
Oh,  the  depth  of  love  divine! 

Oh,  the  sweetness  of  that  mercy 

Which  in  Jesus  Christ  did  shine! 
For  the  guilty,  doomed  to  die, 
Jesus  paid  the  penalty. 

3  When  before  the  judge  we  tremble, 
Conscious  of  his  feroken  laws, 

May  the  blood  of  his  atonement 

Cr>-  aloud,  and  plead  our  cause; 
Bid  our  guilty  terrors  cease  ; 
Be  our  pardon  and  our  peace. 

In  the  Lyra  Catholica,  1849,  this  transla- 
tion by  Rev.  Edward  Caswall  first  appeared. 
The  original,  "Ira  just  a  Condz'torts,"  is  a 
Latin  hymn  which  commemorates  the  saving 
power  of  Christ's  blood  and  its  sufficiency  as 
an  atonement.  Our  sins  and  iniquities  are  to 
be  remembered  no  more.  Forgetfulness  is 
the  greatest  boon  to  a  sinner.  The  ancients 
dreamed  of  Lethe,  the  river  of  forgetfulness, 
into  which  the  soul  should  plunge  at  death. 
There  is  but  one  such  stream — the  fountain 
that  cleanses  us  blots  our  sins  from  memory. 
God  caft  forget  —  blessed  assurance  to  the 
sin-ridden,  conscience-stung  soul !  "  The 
true  penitent,"  says  Newman,  "  never  forgives 
himself."  God  forgives,  we  say.  and  God 
forgets,  and  he  invites  us  to  lose  the  very 
memory  of  our  sins  in  the  sweet  oblivion  of 
his  grace. 

587  "Mercy  and  truth  are  met .'"         8s,  7s,  7s. 

Come,  behold  a  great  expedient, 
God  revealed  in  flesh  appears ; 

God  himself  becomes  obedient. 
And  the  curse  for  sinners  bears ; 

'T  is  a  great,  a  gracious  plan. 

Wounding  sin,  yet  sparing  man. 

2  Oh,  the  wisdom  of  contrivance, 
Oh,  the  grace  that  shines  therein, 

God  forgives  without  connivance. 
He  forgives,  yet  spares  not  sin; 
Justice  sees  the  victim  bleed. 
Nothing  more  can  justice  need. 

3  Whither  should  we  go,  oh,  whither, 
■yWiither  from  the  glorious  sight  ? 

Tnlth  and  mercy  meet  together, 

*ighteousness  and  peace  unite : 
'T  is  the  cross  that  gives  us  rest. 
Makes  us  safe,  and  makes  us  blest. 

Some  people  have  written  to  the  compiler 
of  Laiides  Domini  that  this  hymn  of  Rev. 
Thomas  Kelly  was  not  as  acceptable  as  some 


others  of  his,  and  was  possessed  of  an  ap- 
parently incommensurate  popularity.  It  is 
found  in  the  author's  Hymns,  1 809,  beginning 
with  the  line,  "  Death  is  sin's  tremendous 
wages."  On  the  whole,  the  words  "  contri- 
vance "  and  "  expedient  "  may  be  unfortunate, 
but  the  hymn  is  certainly  orthodox — unusual- 
ly so.  Just  now,  within  a  little  while,  some 
one  has  said — and  it  surely  is  the  more  wise- 
ly said  because  he  who  said  it  spent  some  in- 
valuable years  in  denying  it  beforehand : 
"  Unless  the  apostolic  language  does  trans- 
gress not  only  every  rule  of  literal  construc- 
tion, but  all  parallels  in  the  latitude  of  meta- 
phor, it  certainly  declares  Jesus  to  be  a  Re- 
deemer in  some  sense  which  no  notion  of 
instruction,  or  of  exemplary  character,  satis- 
fies." To  be  sure  it  does  :  and  that  sense  is 
very  clear  to  one  who  is  willing  just  to  re- 
ceive it.  Jesus  Christ  is  our  Redeemer  not 
by  setting  examples  of  human  greatness  be- 
fore our  eyes,  but  by  bearing  our  sins  upon 
the  cross,  and  becoming  our  substitute  before 
the  divine  law. 


588 


"Here  Speaks  the  Comforter."         iis,  ids. 


Come,  ye  disconsolate,  where'er  ye  languish  : 
Come  to  the  mercy-seat,  fervently  kneel ; 

Here  bring  your  wounded  hearts,  here  tell  your  anguish; 
Earth  hath  no  sorrow  that  heaven  cannot  heal. 

2  Joy  of  the  comfortless,  light  of  the  straying, 
Hope  of  the  penitent,  fadeless  and  pure  ; 

Here  sp)eaks  the  Comforter,  tenderly  saying — 
Earth  hath  no  sorrow  that  heaven  cannot  cure. 

3  Here  see  the  Bread  of  Life ;  see  waters  flowing 
Forth  from  the  throne  of  God,  pure  from  above; 

Come  to  the  feast  of  love :  come,  ever  knowing 
Earth  hath  no  sorrow  but  heaven  can  remove. 

Thomas  Moore  was  born  in  Dublin,  May 
28,  1779,  and  educated  at  Trinity  College  in 
that  city.  He  read  for  the  Bar,  afterwards 
held  a  Government  post  in  Bermuda  for  a 
short  time,  and  died  February  26,  1852.  His 
poetical  works  are  of  great  merit,  but  his 
connection  with  hymnody  is  limited  to  his 
Sacred  Songs,  published  in  18 16.  These 
were  thirty-two  in  number,  written  to  popu- 
lar airs  of  different  nations,  and  many  of  them 
have  been  republished  in  various  church  col- 
lections. The  well-known  one  quoted  here  is 
entitled  "  Relief  in  Prayer."  It  has  proved  a 
message  of  consolation  to  many  a  despairing 
soul,  which  has  found  at  the  mercy-seat  help 
in  time  of  trouble. 

•  In  the  southern  waters  of  the  Atlantic  was 
sailing  a  ship,  wearing  heavy  signals  of  utter- 
most distress.  The  mariners  upon  another 
vessel  hurried  nearer  for  immediate  help,  and 
shouted,  "What  do  you  need.'"  "Water, 
water"  came  back  the  hail ;  "  we  are  dying 


INVITATIONS    AND    WARNINGS. 


257 


for  water !"  Quick,  indeed,  was  the  answer 
which  went  flying  over  the  crests,  in  a  tone  of 
half-vexed  surprise,  "  Dip  it  up,  then,  in  the 
first  bucket  you  can  find  !"  For  tne  fact  was 
they  were  at  the  very  moment  in  the  mouth 
of  the  Amazon  River,  where  the  stream  ran 
fresh  wat^r  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles  wide  all 
around  them  !  It  does  seem  a  folly  that  men 
would  grow  maniac  with  thirst  when  tossed 
on  an  ocean  of  relief.  Alas !  there  are  men 
who  will  die  of  soul-thirst  when  salvation  rolls 
full  and  free  beneath  them  ! 

589  ^  Fountain  Opened.  8s,  7s,  7s. 

Come  to  Calvary's  holy  mountain, 

Sinners,  ruined  by  the  fall ! 
Here  a  pure  and  healing  fountain 

Flows  to  you,  to  me,  to  all — 
In  a  full,  perpetual  tide, 
Opened  when  our  Saviour  died. 

2  Come,  in  sorrow  and  contrition. 
Wounded,  impotent,  and  blind  ! 

Here  the  guilty,  free  remission, 

Here  the  troubled,  peace  may  find  ; 
Health  this  fountain  will  restore  ; 
He  that  drinks  shall  thirst  no  more — 

3  He  that  drinks  shall  live  for  ever; 
'T  is  a  soul-renewing  flood  : 

God  is  faithful ;  God  will  never 
Break  his  covenant  in  blood, 
Signed  when  our  Redeemer  died. 
Sealed  when  he  was  glorified. 

This  is  found  in  James  Montgomery's 
Original  Hymns.  It  appeared  in  Cotterill's 
Selection  in  1819,  bearing  the  title,  "A  Foun- 
tain opened  for  Sin  and  Uncleanness."  Ref- 
erence seems  to  be  made  to  Zechariah  13:1. 
The  fountain  was  opened  when  Jesus  died  on 
Calvary.  All  our  need  now  is  to  wash  and  be 
clean.  It  is  very  striking,  and  often  pathetic, 
to  notice  how  the  views  of  the  common  peo- 
ple seize  upon  and  really  enjoy  the  forms  of 
speech  in  which  this  personal  Saviour  of  ours 
preached  the  gospel.  The  English  critic, 
Ruskin,  tells  us  in  the  Modern  Painters, 
that  once,  when  he  was  coming  down  from 
the  rocks  in  the  neighborhood  of  Montreux 
in  Switzerland,  both  weary  and  thirsty,  he 
found  at  the  turn  of  the  path  a  spring,  con- 
ducted as  usual  by  the  herdsmen  into  a  hol- 
lowed pine-trunk.  .  He  stooped  to  it,  and 
drank  deeply  ;  and  then  as  he  raised  his  head, 
drawing  his  breath  heavily  with  a  sigh  of  full 
satisfaction,  some  one  behind  him,  unseen 
hitherto,  spoke  in  the  words  of  the  beautiful 
French  version  of  John's  Gospel :  "  Celut  qui 
boira  de  cctte  eait-ci,  aura  encore  soif ;" — 
"  Whosoever  drinketh  of  this  water  shall 
thirst  again."  He  says  that  at  first  he  did 
not  comprehend  the  meaning  of  the  singular 
sentence  ;  he  looked  up,  and  saw  the  friendly 
countenance  of  a  plain,  frank  mountaineer, 


who  without  the  least  embarrassment  went  on 
with  the  verse  :  "  Maiscelui  qui  boira  de  I'eau 
que  je  liti  donnerai,  n'aura  jamais  soif  ;" — 
"  But  whosoever  drinketh  of  the  water  that  I 
shall  give  him  shall  never  thirst." 

590 


C.  .M. 


"Return,  return  /" 

Return,  O  wanderer,  to  thy  home. 

Thy  Father  calls  for  thee; 
No  longer  now  an  exile  roam 

In  guilt  and  miser>-: 
Return,  return. 

2  Return,  O  wanderer,  to  thy  home, 
'T  is  Jesus  calls  for  thee ; 

The  Spirit  and  the  Bride  say,  "  Come,' 
Oh,  now  for  refuge  flee  : 
Return,  return. 

3  Return,  O  wanderer,  to  thy  home, 
'T  is  madness  to  delay  ; 

There  arc  no  pardons  in  the  tomb. 
And  brief  is  mercy's  day : 
Return,  return. 


Dr.  Thomas  Hastings'  account  of  the  origin 
of  this  hymn  is  singularly  interesting.  He 
said  that  he  wrote  it  just  after  listening  to  a 
stirring  sermon  delivered  in  a  Presbyterian 
Church  in  Utica  in  1830.  The  theme  of  the 
preacher  was  found  in  the  parable  of  the 
Prodigal  Son.  Two  hundred  converts  were 
present ;  and,  at  the  close  of  the  discourse,  at 
the  very  height  of  his  peroration,  the  minister 
exclaimed,  "  Sinner,  come  home  !  come  home  ! 
come  home  !"  Under  the  inspiration  of  such 
an  appeal  he  wrote  the  stanzas,  and  published 
them  in  his  Spiritual  Songs,  1831. 

59  i  Ezekiel ii:  II.  7S,  D. 

Sinners,  turn,  why  will  ye  die? 
God,  your  Maker,  asks  you — Why  ? 
God,  who  did  your  being  give. 
Made  you  with  himself  to  live; 
He  the  fatal  cause  demands. 
Asks  the  work  of  his  own  hands. 
Why,  ye  thankless  creatures,  why 
Will  ye  cross  his  love,  and  die? 

2  Sinners,  turn,  why  will  ye  die  ? 
God,  your  Saviour,  asks  you — Why? 
He  who  did  your  souls  retrieve, 
Died  himself  that  ye  might  live. 
Will  ye  let  him  die  in  vain  ? 
Crucify  your  Lord  ajjfain  ? 

Whv,  ye  ransomed  sinners,  why 
Will  ye  slight  his  grace,  and  die? 

3  Sinners,  turn,  why  will  ye  die? 
God,  the  Spirit,  asks  you-^Why  ? 
He,  who  all  your  lives  hath  strove. 
Urged  you  to  embrace  his  love : 
Will  ye  not  his  grace  receive  ? 
Will  ye  still  refuse  to  live  ? 

Why,  ye  long-sought  sinners  !  why. 
Wilt  ye  grieve  your  God,  and  die? 

Rev.  Charles  Wesley  published  in  Hymns 
on  God's  Everlasting  Love,  1741,  a  long  poem 
of  sixteen  stanzas.  From  this  the  lines  for 
these  years  in  common  use  have  been  chosen. 
It  is  entitled,  "  Why  will  ye  die  ?"  and  refer- 
ence is  made  to  Ezekiel  18:31.     This  hymn 


17 


258 


THE   GOSPEL  : — ATONEMENT   OFFERED. 


was  a  great  favorite  with  Rev.  Dr.  N.  S.  S. 
Beman  ;  he  continually  gave  it  out  during  his 
whole  ministry,  reading  the  verses  most  im- 
pressively before  the  singing.  It  has  done  a 
great  deal  of  good  in  its  day,  but  it  belongs  to 
the  era  of  church  progress  and  growth  when 
Christians  sang  at  the  unconverted  more  than 
they  do  now. 

592  The  Accepted  Time.  S.  M. 

Now  is  the  accepted  time, 

Now  is  the  day  of  grace ; 
O  sinners  !  come,  without  delay, 

And  seek  the  Saviour's  face. 

2  Now  is  the  accepted  time, 
The  Saviour  calls  to-day  ; 

To-morrow  it  may  be  too  late ; 
Then  why  should  you  delay? 

3  Now  is  the  accepted  time. 
The  gospel  bids  you  come  ; 

And  every  promise  in  his  word 
Declares  there  yet  is  room. 

4  Lord,  draw  reluctant  souls. 
And  feast  them  with  thy  love  : 

Then  will  the  angels  spread  their  wings 
And  bear  the  news  above. 

The  volume  which  is  quoted  usually  as 
Dobell's  Collection  has  a  somewhat  extensive 
title:  A  New  Selection  of  seven  hundred 
Evattgelical  Hymns  for  Private,  Family, 
and  Public  Worship,  {many  original,)  from 
more  than  two  hundred  of  the  best  authors 
in  England,  Scotland,  Ireland,  and  Amer- 
ica;  arranged  in  alphabetical  order,  in- 
tended as  a  Supplement  to  Dr.  Watts' 
Psalms  and  Hymns.  It  was  published  in 
1806.  The  second  edition  was  enlarged,  and 
more  original  pieces  were  added.  This  vol- 
ume is  valuable  from  the  fact  that  it  is  the 
earliest,  perhaps  the  very  first,  book  of  the 
kind  to  give  the  names  of  the  authors  in  con- 
nection with  their  work.  Three  American 
editions  have  appeared,  published  at  Morris- 
town,  N.  J.,  in  1810,  181 5,  and  1822,  and  then 
another  was  issued  in  Philadelphia,  1825. 
John  Dobell  was  born  in  Poole,  Dorsetshire, 
England,  in  1757.  He  was  for  some  time 
kept  in  the  position  as  port-gauger  under  the 
Board  of  Excise  ;  and  the  duties  of  his  office 
not  being  very  severe,  he  enjoyed  consider- 
able leisure  which  he  employed  in  literary 
work.  Among  the  books  of  which  he  was 
the  author  there  was  one  entitled  Baptis7n, 
and  another  which  was  entitled  Humanity. 
His  labor  as  a  contributor  to  the  hymnology 
of  the  period  was  suggested  by  the  remark  of 
an  invalid  in  Cornwall  whom  he  visited,  who 
said  to  him :  "  I  wish  I  could  see  before  I  die 
a  hymn-book  full  of  Christ  and  his  Gospel, 
and  without  any  mixture  of  freewill  or  merit." 
How  deeply  into  his  mind  this  sentence  fell 


can  be  seen  in  the  titles  he  affixed  to  his  vol- 
umes of  poetry ;  the  first  he  called  The 
Christian  s  Golden  Treasure  ;  or.  Gospel 
Comfort  for  Dotibting  Minds  ;  and  the  sec- 
ond. The  Christian  s  Companioit  in  his  four- 
ney  to  Heaven.  He  has  been  reckoned  as  a 
Congregationalist,  and  for  years  he  was  a 
regular  attendant  upon  the  services  of  the 
Skinner  Street  Chapel  in  Poole ;  there  he  died 
in  his  eighty-fourth  year,  and  was  buried 
June  I,  1840.  There  is  no  record  of  his  hav- 
ing been  a  member  of  the  communion, 
though  his  wife  was  on  the  roll ;  he  was 
quaint  and  eccentric,  tall  and  conspicuous  in 
figure,  much  respected  and  affectionately  be- 
loved. 

593  " Sinner,  Corner '  S.  M. 

The  Spirit,  in  our  hearts, 
Is  whispering,  "Sinner,  come;" 

The  bride,  the  Church  of  Christ,  proclaims. 
To  all  his  children,  "Come !" 

2  Let  him  that  heareth  say- 
To  all  about  him,  "Come!" 

Let  him  that  thirsts  for  righteousness. 
To  Christ,  the  fountain,  come  ! 

3  Yea,  whosoever  will, 
Oh,  let  him  freely  come, 

And  freely  drink  the  stream  of  life; 
'T  is  Jesus  bids  him  come. 

4  Lo  !  Jesus,  who  invites, 
Declares,  "I  quickly  come;" 

Lord,  even  so ;  we  wait  thine  hour; 
O  blest  Redeemer,  come ! 

Rev.  Henry  Ustic  Onderdonk,  D.  D.,  was 
born  in  New  York,  Mafch  16,  1789,  and  stud- 
ied at  Columbia  College.  After  taking  holy 
orders  he  was  for  some  time  rector  of  St.  Ann's 
Church  in  Brooklyn,  until  in  1827  he  was  con- 
secrated at  Philadelphia,  and  became  Assist- 
ant Bishop  of  that  diocese.  On  the  death  of 
Bishop  White  in  1836  he  entered  upon  the 
full  charge.  He  died  in  Philadelphia,  Decem- 
ber 6,  1858.  His  services  to  the  hymnody  of 
the  church  were  great,  and  many  of  his  poems 
are  in  general  use.  The  one  quoted  here  was 
suggested  by  the  passage  in  the  twenty-second 
chapter  of  Revelation,  where  the  Spirit  and 
the  Bride  are  represented  as  inviting  the  sin- 
ner to  come  to  Christ ;  it  is  found  in  the  Epis- 
copal Prayer  Book  Selection,  1826.  The  work 
of  regeneration  is  wrought  by  the  Holy  Spirit ; 
and  no  mortal  can  tell  how  he  does  it,  nor 
even  precisely  what  he  does.  There  is  sove- 
reignty in  the  act ;  but  it  is  exercised  in  an- 
swer to  the  simplicity  of  prayer.  "  Create  in 
me  a  clean  heart,  O  God,  and  renew  a  right 
spirit  within  me."  Prometheus  brought  fire 
from  heaven  to  earth.  Socrates  brought  phi- 
losophy from  heaven  to  earth.  But  God  him- 
self had  to  send  this  gift  of  his  grace,  by  a 
new  revelation.     And  he  has  given  us  to  un- 


INVITATIONS    AND    WARNINGS. 


259 


derstand  that  there  shall  never  be  a  lack,  even 
till  the  last  son  of  his  love  shall  be  brought 
into  glory.  You  may  light  a  taper  with  a  lens, 
concentrating  sunshine  on  it.  And  taper  after 
taper  may  thus  shine  to  illumine  human  dark- 
ness, without  the  sun's  ever  feeling  wearied 
or  growing  in  the  slightest  measure  exhausted. 
So  of  the  Sun  of  Righteousness ;  there  is  an 
absolutely  inexhaustible  fullness  in  the  Light 
of  the  World. 

594  IVeeping  for  Sinners.  S.  M. 

Did  Christ  o'er  sinners  weep, 
And  shall  our  cheeks  be  dry? 

Let  floods  of  penitential  grief 
Burst  forth  from  every  eye. 

2  The  Son  of  God  in  tears 
Angels  with  wonder  see  ; 

Be  thou  astonished,  O  my  soul  I 
He  shed  those  tears  for  thee. 

3  He  wept  that  we  might  weep ; 
Each  sin  demands  a  tear : 

In  heaven  alone  no  sin  is  found. 
And  there 's  no  weeping  there. 

This  little  hymn  has  been  singularly  useful 
in  the  American  churches  for  scores  of  years. 
It  was  written  by  Rev.  Benjamin  Beddome 
for  the  first  edition  of  Dr.  Rippon's  Selection, 
1787.  It  was,  according  to  the  author's  title, 
to  be  sung  "  Before  Sermon."  The  Scripture 
reference  may  have  been  to  Luke  19  141 . 

595  The  Call  of  Love.  S.  M. 

And  canst  thou,  sinner!  slight 

The  call  of  love  divine? 
Shall  God,  with  tenderness,  invite, 

And  gain  no  thought  of  thine? 

2  Wilt  thou  not  cease  to  grieve 
The  Spirit  from  thy  breast, 

Till  he  thy  wretched  soul  shall  leave 
With  all  thy  sins  oppressed? 

3  To-day  a  pardoning  God 
Will  hear  the  suppliant  pray ; 

To-day  a  Saviour's  cleansmg  blood 
Will  wash  thy  guilt  away. 

Mrs.  Abby  Bradley  Hyde  was  born  at 
■Stockbridge,  Mass.,  September  28,  1799,  ^nd 
married  to  Rev.  Lavius  Hyde,  of  Salislaury, 
Mass.,  in  1818.  Her  death  occurred  at  An- 
dover,  April  7,  1872.  She  wrote  about  fifty 
hymns,  some  of  which  are  in  use  both  in  Great 
Britain  and  America.  The  one  given  here  is 
perhaps  the  favorite.  It  appeared  first  in 
Nettleton's  Village  Hymns,  1824,  with  the 
title,  "  Grieve  not  the  Spirit,"  and  contained 
an  additional  stanza.  Mrs.  Hyde's  writings 
are  simple  and  unaffected  in  style,  and  some 
of  her  hymns  for  children  are  very  touching. 

596  "At  the  door."  L.  M. 

Behold  a  Stranger  at  the  door ! 
He  gently  knocks,  has  knocked  before, 
Has  waited  long,  is  waiting  still ; 
You  treat  no  other  friend  so  ill. 


2  Oh,  lovely  attitude  !  he  stands 
With  melting  heart  and  laden  hands  ; 
Oh,  matchless  kindness  !  and  he  shows 
This  matchless  kindness  to  his  foes. 

3  But  will  he  prove  a  friend  indeed  ? 
He  will,  the  very  friend  you  need — 
The  Friend  of  smners;  yes,  'tis  he. 
With  garments  dyed  on  Calvarj-. 

4  Rise,  touched  with  gratitude  divine, 
Turn  out  his  enemy  and  thine, 

That  soul-destroying  monster,  sin, 
And  let  the  heavenly  Stranger  in.  • 

The  genius  of  Rev.  Joseph  Grigg  mani- 
fested itself  at  an  early  age,  one  of  his  best- 
Known  poems  having  been  written  while  he 
was  still  a  mere  child.  He  was  born  about 
the  year  1728,  though  the  date  cannot  be 
fixed  positively.  He  began  life  as  a  me- 
chanic ;  but  his  natural  inclination  being  to- 
wards the  ministry,  he  abandoned  his  trade, 
and  in  1743  became  assistant  pastor  with 
Rev.  Thomas  Bures,  of  the  Presbyterian 
Church,  Silver  Street,  London.  In  this  field 
he  labored  until  the  death  of  his  associate, 
1747,  when  he  retired  from  the  ministry. 
About  this  time  he  married  the  widow  of 
Col.  Drew,  a  lady  who  possessed  considerable 
property,  and  went  to  live  in  St.  Albans. 
Here  he  took  up  his  literary  work  and  wrote 
a  number  of  hymns.  He  died  at  Waltham- 
stow,  Essex,  October  29,  1768.  The  poem 
we  quote  was  first  published  in  a  pamphlet 
in  1765,  with  others,  "  on  divine  subjects." 

597  "God  Calling  Yet."  L.  M. 

/  •  God  calling  yet !  shall  I  not  hear? 

Earth's  pleasures  shall  I  still  hold  dear? 
Shall  life's  swift  passing  years  all  fly, 
And  still  my  soul  in  slumber  lie? 

2  God  calling  yet?  shall  I  not  rise? 
Can  I  his  lovmg  voice  despise, 
And  basely  his  Kind  care  repay  ? 
He  calls  me  still :  can  I  delay? 

3  God  calling  yet !  and  shall  I  give 
No  heed,  but  still  in  bondage  live? 
I  wait,  but  he  does  not  forsake ; 
He  calls  me  still :  my  heart,  awake ! 

4  God  caliiig  yet  !  I  cannot  stay  ; 
My  heart  I  yield  without  delay ; 

Vain  world,  farewell !  from  thee  I  part ; 
The  voice  of  God  hath  reached  my  heart. 

Another  of  the  pieces  taken  from  Hymns 
from  the  Lattd  of  Luther,  issued  by  the  Scotch 
sisters  in  the  year  1854.  This  one  is  under- 
stood to  have  been  translated  by  Mrs.  Findla- 
ter  from  Gerhard  Tersteegen's  "Goti  riifet 
noch  ;  sollt  ich  nicht  endlich  horen?"  The 
author  was  born  at  Mors,  in  Westphalia,  No- 
vember 25,  1697.  His  religious  experience  is 
one  of  the  stories  that  belong  to  the  history  of 
mysticism.  It  began  with  a  spasmodic  fit,  at 
the  end  of  which,  frightened  and  subdued,  he 
solemnly  dedicated  himself  to  God's  service. 
At  the  age  of  twenty-seven  he  wrote  out  a 


26o 


THE  GOSPEL  : — ATONEMENT   OFFERED. 


covenant  between  the  Saviour  and  his  soul, 
using  his  own  blood  for  the  transcription  and 
the  signature.  He  was  a  member  of  no  sect, 
joined  no  church,  lived  a  celibate  and  an  as- 
cetic. He  died  on  April  3,  1769.  He  wrote 
1 1 1  hymns  of  varying  merit,  but  many  of  them 
have  been  translated  into  English  and  are 
good. 

"In  one  of  the  public  inclosures  of  Phila- 
delphia the  fountain  was  recently  left  to  play 
all  night.  During  the  hours  of  darkness  a 
sharp  frost  set  in ;  and  those  who  passed  by 
next  morning  found  the  water,  still  playing 
indeed,  but  playing  over  a  mass  of  gleaming 
icicles.  But  that  was  not  all.  The  wind  had 
been  blowing  steadily  in  one  direction  through 
all  these  hours,  and  the  spray  had  been  car- 
ried on  airy  wings  to  the  grass  which  fringed 
the  pool  in  which  the  fountain  stood.  On 
each  blade  of  grass  the  spray  had  fallen  so. 
gently  as  hardly  to  bend  it,  descending  softly 
and  silently  the  whole  night  long.  By  slow 
and  almost  imperceptible  processes  each 
blade  became  coated  with  a  thin  layer  of  ice  : 
by  the  same  noiseless  processes  each  layer 
grew  thicker,  until  in  the  morning,  what  be- 
fore had  been  a  little  patch  of  swaying  grass, 
was  a  miniature  battle-ground  of  upright, 
crystal  spears,  each  holding  within  it,  as  its 
nucleus,  a  single  blade  of  grass,  now  cold, 
rigid,  and  dead. 

"  In  human  life,  in  like  manner,  it  may  seem 
a  light  thing  to  leave  a  young  heart  outside  of 
Christ's  fold,  and  exposed  to  the  '  cold  winds 
of  the  world's  great  unbelief.'  There  is  no 
violent  transformation  of  the  character  in  such 
a  case.  Yet  silently  and  surely  the  world's 
frost  settles  upon  the  flowers  of  the  heart, 
covering  them  with  the  chill  spray  of  doubt, 
binding  them  with  soft  bonds  which  harden 
into  chains  of  ice,  incasing  them  in  a  coat  of 
crystal  mail,  polished,  cold,  and  impenetrable. 
You  have  met  persons  in  whose  heart  this 
freezing  process  has  been  accomplished.  You 
have  seen  beneath  the  icy  surface  the  nucleus 
of  good  which  might  have  grown  to  so  fair  a 
har\^est,  just  as  you  have  seen  the  dead  blade 
of  grass  preserved  at  the  core  of  the  icicle. 
You  can  do  little  now  for  either  the  person  or 
the  plant ;  nothing  but  heaven's  sunshine  can 
melt  the  ice  which  holds  them  in  its  deadly 
thrall.  But  you  can  take  care  that  none  of 
those  for  whom  you  are  responsible  will  be 
left  out  in  the  world's  cold,  to  suffer  so  dead- 
ly a  change.  You  can  bring  them  within  the 
warm  influences  of  Christian  life,  where  no 
frost  will  gather  upon  them,  and  where  the 
soul's  highest  powers  will  be  gently  wooed  to 
their  best  growth.      Among   all  the  things 


which  you  cannot  do,  this  at  least  you  can  do  ; 
and  unless  you  do  this,  you  are  certainly  re- 
sponsible for  whatever  of  chilling  and  dead- 
ening change  the  coming  years  may  bring  to 
those  whom  you  are  set  of  God  to  cherish 
and  protect.  "^ — S.  S.  Times. 

598  One  Thing  Needful.  L.  M. 

Why  will  ye  waste  on  trifling  cares 
That  life  which  God's  compassion  spares, 
While,  in  the  various  range  of  thought, 
The  one  thing  needful  is  forgot  ? 

2  Shall  God  invite  you  from  above? 
Shall  Jesus  urge  his  dying  love? 

Shall  troubled  conscience  give  you  pain  ? 
And  all  these  pleas  unite  in  vain? 

3  Not  so  your  eyes  will  always  view 
Those  objects  which  you  now  pursue; 
Not  so  will  heaven  and  hell  appear, 
When  death's  decisive  hour  is  near. 

4  Almighty  God  !  thy  grace  impart ; 
Fix  deep  conviction  on  each  heart : 
Nor  let  us  waste  on  trifling  cares 
That  life  which  thy  compassion  spares. 

This  poem  by  Dr.  Philip  Doddridge  was  pub- 
lished in  a  posthumous  edition  of  his  Hymns, 
1755,  but  is  supposed  to  have  been  written 
twenty  years  earlier.  It  is  an  earnest  plea  ad- 
dressed to  unbelievers  who  urge  that  the  plea- 
sures of  the  Christian  life  are  few,  its  prohibi- 
tions innumerable  and  fixed.  In  opposition 
to  all  this  petulance  and  mistake  is  the  truth, 
that  the  system  of  faith  and  practice  which 
Jesus  Christ  came  to  proclaim  admits  no  such 
moroseness  or  severity.  It  offers  restoration 
and  indulgence  to  all  the  powers  of  man,  on 
the  simple  condition  of  penitence,  trust,  and 
love ;  and  then,  in  addition,  it  proposes  to 
bring  in  as  its  own  free  gift  a  new  and  in- 
creased experience  of  every  kind  that  renders 
life  valuable  and  worthy.  Hence,  when — in 
reply  to  the  persistent  call  of  divine  grace, 
urging  a  Saviour's  claim  upon  each  individ- 
ual's conscience,  pressing  him  to  come  for 
salvation  to  the  cross — any  one  says,  "  Oh,  I 
want  to  see  more  of  life  first !"  the  Gospel,  as 
if  anticipating  the  impatient  cavil,  or  remon- 
strating with  one  who  utters  it,  answers  kindly, 
"  Very  well ;  the  Redeemer  came  that  you 
might  have  life,  and  that  you  might  have  it 
yet  more  abundantly."  In  other  words,  this  is 
the  doctrine  of  the  New  Testament :  the  true 
Christian  life  is  a  fuller,  freer  life,  brighter, 
more  welcome,  more  joyous,  than  any  other 
life  whatsoever. 


599 


"  Whynot  To-mght?" 


L.  M. 


Oh,  do  not  let  the  word  depart, 
And  close  thine  eyes  agamst  the  light ; 

Poor  sinner,  harden  not  thy  heart : 
Thou  wouldst  be  saved ;  why  not  to-night  ? 


INVITATIONS   AND    WARNINGS. 


261 


2  To-morrow's  sun  may  never  rise 
To  bless  thy  long-dtluded  sight ; 

This  is  the  time  ;  oh,  then  be  wise ! 
Thou  wouldst  be  saved  ;  why  not  to-night  ? 

3  Our  God  in  pity  hiigers  still ; 

And  wilt  thou  thus  his  love  requite? 
Renounce  at  length  thy  stubborn  will : 
Thou  wouldst  be  saved  ;  why  not  to-night  ? 

4  Our  blessed  Lord  refuses  none 
Who  would  to  him  their  souls  unite; 

Then  be  the  work  of  grace  begun  : 
Thou  wouldst  be  saved  ;  why  not  to-night  ? 

The  wife  of  a  clergyman,  and  the  mother 
of  seven  children,  it  is  safe  to  conclude  that 
the  life  of  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Reed  was  far  from 
being  an  idle  one.  Household  worries,  how- 
ever, do  not  seem  to  have  so  engrossed  her 
time  and  attention  that  she  could  not  sym- 
pathize with  and  aid  her  husband  in  his  work. 
She  is  said  to  have  taken  a  deep  interest  in 
his  wide  charities.  Besides  this,  when  his 
Wycliffe  Chapel  Supplement  was  republished 
in  1872,  twenty  of  her  poems  appeared  in  it, 
among  which  is  to  be  found  the  hymn  we 
quote,  bearing  date,  1825.  She  wrote  also  a 
book  of  tales  for  children,  and  a  manual  to 
aid  their  mothers.  Mrs.  Reed  was  born  in 
London,  March  4,  1794;  became  the  wife  of 
Rev.  Andrew  Reed,  D.  D.,  in  18 16,  and  died 
July  4,  1867. 


600 


"  Why  will  ye  die?" 


Oh,  turn  ye,  oh,  turn  ye,  for  why  will  ye  die. 
When  God  in  great  mercy  is  coming  so  nigh  ? 
Now  Jesus  invites  you,  the  Spirit  says,  Come, 
And  angels  are  waiting  to  welcome  you  home. 

2  And  now  Christ  is  ready  your  souls  to  receive. 
Oh,  how  can  you  question,  if  you  will  believe? 
If  sin  is  your  burden,  why  will  vou  not  come? 
'T  is  you  he  bids  welcome ;  he  bids  you  come  home. 

This  hymn  has  six  stanzas  in  Dr.  Leavitt's 
Chrtstmtt  Lyre,  Vol.  I.,  1830,  whence  it  is 
taken.  Allusion  is  made  to  Ezekiel  33:11. 
Its  author  was  Rev.  Josiah  Hopkins,  D.  D., 
who  was  born  at  Pittsford,  Vermont,  April 
18,  1786.  He  studied  at  Middlebury  College 
and  at  Auburn  Theological  Seminary.  His 
first  charge  was  that  of  a  Congregational 
Church  at  New  Haven,  Vermont,  where  he 
remained  until  1830;  then  he  became  the 
minister  of  the  First  Presbyterian  Church  of 
Auburn,  New  York.  He  published  the 
Christian  histructor  in  1847,  and  while  in 
Auburn  edited  a  volume  of  Conference 
Hymns.  He  died  at  Geneva,  New  York, 
July  27,  1862. 


601 


Procrastination. 


2  Delay  not,  delay  not ;  the  Spirit  of  grace, 
Long  grieved  and  resisted,  may  take  his  sad 

flight, 
And  leave  thee  in  darkness  to  finish  thy  race. 
To  sink  in  the  gloom  of  eternity's  night. 

3  Delay  not,  delay  not ;  the  hour  is  at  hand  ; 
The  earth  shall  dissolve,  and  the  heavens  shall 

fade. 
The  dead,  small  and  great,  in  the  judgment  shall 
stand ; 
What  helper,  then,  sinner,  shall  lend  thee  his  aid  ? 

Under  the  title  "  Exhortation  to  Repent- 
ance," this  hymn  by  Dr.  Thomas  Hastings 
appeared  in  his  Spiritual  Songs,  1831,  and 
has  since  been  republished  in  many  import- 
ant collections.  It  urges  the  immediate  ne- 
cessity of  accepting  the  offer  of  atonement. 
Over  the  unrecorded  death  and  grave  of  one 
of  Franklin's  arctic  explorers,  found  on  the 
ice-bound  shore  of  Beechy  Island,  were  found 
these  words :  "  Choose  you  this  day  whom 
you  will  serve."  They  told  of  one  who,  in  the 
Polar  zone  of  death  and  night,  had  found  the 
entrance  to  an  eternal  summer  in  the  Para- 
dise of  God.  Looking  over  an  endless  sea 
of  ice,  the  dying  man  saw  that  his  eternity 
would  be  according  to  the  choice  which  he 
had  made.  There  can  be  no  intermediate 
choice ;  for  if  one  neither  loves  nor  hates  the 
service  of  his  Creator,  he  has  never  chosen 
him,  and  there  should  be  no  halting  between 
two  opinions. 


602 


Job  22:21. 


Delay  not,  delay  not ;  O  sinner,  draw  near, 
The  waters  of  life  are  now  flowing  for  thee; 

No  price  is  demanded  ;  the  Saviour  is  here; 
Redemption  is  purchased,  salvation  is  free. 


Acquaint  thyself  quickly,  O  sinner,  with  God, 
And  joy,  like  the  sunshine,  shall  beam  on  thy  road  ; 
And  peace,  like  the  dewdrop,  shall  fall  on  thy  head, 
And  sleep,  like  an  angel,  shall  visit  thy  bed. 

2  Acquaint  thyself  quickly,  O  sinner,  with  God, 
And  he  shall  be  with  thee  when  fears  are  abroad  ; 
Thy  Safeguard  in  danger  that  threatens  thy  path  ; 
Thy  Joy  in  the  valley  and  shadow  of  death. 

The  spirit  of  poetry  running  through  the 
nature  of  William  Knox  seems  to  have  devel- 
oped itself  only  after  adversity.  The  story  of 
his  life  is  briefly  this  :  He  was  born  at  Firth, 
Lilliesleaf,  Roxburgh,  Scotland,  August  17, 
1789;  and  studied  at  the  grammar  school  at 
Musselburgh.  He  tried  farming  at  Wrae ;  but 
irregular  living  soon  began  to  make  inroads 
upon  his  fortune ;  things  went  from  bad  to 
worse,  and  finally  his  venture  ended  in  bank- 
ruptcy. It  was  just  at  this  time  that  he  began 
to  write  for  the  Edinburgh  journals,  following 
his  efforts  in  prose  composition  by  several 
volumes  of  poetry,  notably  The  Lonely  Hearth, 
181 8;  Songs  of  Israel,  1824;  The  Harp  of 
Zion,  1825.  He  died  in  Edinburgh,  November 
12,  1825. 

The  hymn  we  quote  is  from  the  Harp  of 
Zion,  where  it  is  entitled  "  Heavenly  Wis- 


262 


THE   GOSPEL; — ATONEMENT    ACCEPTED. 


dom,"  and  annexed  to  it  is  the  reference  Job 
22 :  21,  27-28. 

603  The  Penitents  Plea.  ?,  M. 

Jesus,  heed  me,  lost  and  dying, 
Unto  thee  for  shelter  flying^ 
Hear,  oh,  hear,  my  heart's  sore  crj-ing: 
Heed  me,  or  I  die ! 

2  All  my  sin  and  sorrow  feeling, 
Come  1,  as  the  leper,  kneeling; 
Come  to  thee  for  help  and  healing. 

Heal  me,  or  I  die! 

3  Naught  have  I  to  plead  of  merit. 
Naught  but  curse  do  I  inherit ; 

By  thy  gracious,  quickening  Spirit 
Save  me,  or  I  die ! 

4  Not  my  tears  of  deep  contrition 
Can  secure  one  sin's  remission. 
Helpless,  hopeless  my  condition  : 

Help  me,  or  I  die  ! 

5  Far  away  my  dead  works  flinging. 
Nothing  owning,  nothing  bringnig. 
Only  to  thy  mercy  clinging : 

Bless  me,  or  I  die  ! 

6  By  thy  cross,  where  hope  is  beaming, 
By  Its  crimson  fountain  streaming, 
Flowing  for  the  world's  redeeming : 

Cleanse  me,  or  I  die ! 

7  So  my  soul  shall  praise  thee  ever 
For  the  love  which  changes  never, 
From  which  not  ev'n  death  can  sever : 

Saved  no  more  to  die. 

This  hymn  appeared  in  the  A'ew  York  Ob- 
server, January  25,  1883.  It  is  the  work  of 
Rev.  Robert  M.  Offord,  a  member  of  the  edi- 
torial staff  of  that  paper.  It  has  been  slightly 
altered  and  abridged  for  use  in  Laiides  Domini. 

Mr.  Offord  was  born  at  St.  Austell,  Corn- 
wall, England,  September  17,  1846,  and  came 
to  America  in  1870.  He  joined  the  Methodist 
Church  at  first ;  but  afterwards  he  associated 
himself  with  the  Reformed  Dutch  Church  in 
1878.  For  six  years  he  labored  as  the  pastor 
of  a  congregation  in  Lodi,  N.  J. ;  but  his  liter- 
ary work  occupied  so  much  of  his  time  that 
eventually  he  was  obliged  to  resign  his  charge, 
and  devote  himself  entirely  to  his  duties  as  an 
editor.  He  has  contributed  a  number  of  excel- 
lent poems  to  the  Observer ;  but  not  many  of 
them  have  come  into  use  in  our  hymnals  as 
yet. 

604  "  The  footsteps  of  the  flock." 

Jesus,  Shepherd  of  the  sheep. 
Who  thy  Father's  flock  dost  keep, 
Safe  we  wake  and  safe  we  sleep, 
Guarded  still  by  thee. 

2  In  thy  promise  firm  we  stand. 
None  can  pluck  us  from  thy  hand. 
Speak — ^we  hear — at  thy  command 

We  will  follow  thee. 

3  By  thy  blood  our  souls  were  bought, 
By  thy  life  salvation  wrought. 
By  thy  light  our  feet  are  taught, 

L'ordi  to  follow  thee. 


7S,  5S. 


4  Father,  draw  us  to  thy  Son  ; 
We  with  joy  will  follow  on. 
Till  the  work  of  grace  is  done, 

And  from  sin  set  free — 

5  We  in  robes  of  glorj-  dressed. 
Join  the  assembly  of  the  blest. 
Gathered  to  eternal  rest. 

In  the  fold  with  thee. 

The  biography  of  this  scholarly  man,  who 
was  very  efficient  in  stamping  out  Arianism 
from  the  Presbyterian  churches  and  colleges 
of  Ireland,  has  been  ably  written  by  Dr.  Por- 
ter, and  it  needs  but  few  words  to  call  to  mind 
the  service  he  rendered  to  his  country  at  the 
time  of  a  great  religious  peril. 

Rev.  Henrj-  Cooke,  D.  D.,  LL.  D.,  was 
born  at  Grillagh,  near  Maghera,  County  Lon- 
donderry, Ireland,  May  11,  1788,  and  was  a 
descendant  of  an  English  family  who  had 
come  from  Devonshire.  He  received  his  edu- 
cation at  Glasgow  University,  and  in  1808, 
after  his  ordination,  became  pastor  of  Dun- 
cane  Presbyterian  Church.  After  two  years 
of  work  in  this  field,  he  removed  to  Donegore 
in  1811  ;  and  went  thence  to  Killyleagh  in 
18 1 8,  and  to  Belfast  in  1829,  where  he  re- 
mained until  his  death,  December  13,  1868. 

The  times  in  which  Dr.  Cooke  lived  and 
labored  were  irreligious  and  lax.  Men  were 
inclined  towards  infidelity,  and  there  was  ur- 
gent need  of  just  such  piety,  tact,  earnestness, 
and  eloquence  as  characterized  this  reformer's 
work.  For  years  he  fought  untiringly  the 
heresy  which  had  invaded  Ireland's  colleges, 
synods,  and  congregations ;  conquering  final- 
ly without  a  single  defeat  to  mar  the  glory  of 
his  victory,  and  lifting  the  church  to  a  higher 
and  more  God-like  plane  of  thought  and  ac- 
tion. He  was  three  times  elected  Moderator 
of  the  General  Assembly ;  degrees  were  con- 
ferred upon  him  by  universities  at  home  and 
abroad,  and  he  was  offered  the  professorship 
of  Sacred  Rhetoric  in  the  Assembly's  College 
at  Belfast.  Yet  with  all  these  honors  show- 
ered upon  him,  he  retained  his  simple,  gentle 
manners,  and  died  thoroughly  beloved  and 
revered.  His  hymn  is  found  in  the  Cana- 
dian Presbyterian  Hymnal,  1881. 


605 


'  Take  Me." 


8s,  7s,  D. 


Take  me,  O  my  Father,  take  me ! 

Take  me,  save  me,  through  thy  Son  : 
That  which  thou  wouldst  have  me,  make  me, 

Let  thy  will  in  me  be  done. 
Long  from  thee  my  footsteps  straying. 

Thorny  proved  the  way  I  trod  ; 
Weary  come  I  now,  and  praying — 

Take  me  to  thy  love,  my  God ! 

2  Fruitless  years  with  grief  recalling, 

Humblv  I  confess  niv  sin  : 
At  thy  feet,  O  Father,  falling. 

To  thv  household  take  me  in. 


REPENTANCE   UNTO    LIFE. 


263 


Freely  now  to  thee  I  proffer 

This  relenting  heart  of  mine  ; 
Freely  life  and  soul  I  offer — 

Gift  unworthy  love  like  thine. 

3  Once  the  world's  Redeemer,  dying, 

Bare  our  sins  upon  the  tree ; 
On  that  sacrifice  relying. 

Now  I  look  in  hope  to  thee ; 
Father,  take  me!  all  forgiving. 

Fold  me  to  thy  loving  breast ; 
In  thy  love  for  ever  livmg, 

I  must  be  for  ever  blest ! 

We  have  always  been  proud  and  glad  that 
this  hymn  of  Dr.  Ray  Palmer's  composition, 
which  has  proved  so  welcome  and  useful 
since,  was  given  to  the  public  in  Songs  for 
the  Sanctuary  in  1865.  It  was  based  upon 
the  Parable  of  the  Prodigal  Son,  and  both  in 
sentiment  and  versification  it  has  proved  its 
force  and  value.  Dr.  Palmer  often  used  to 
hear  messages  of  gratitude  and  cheer  from 
those  who  were  comforted  and  helped  by 
these  verses. 

€06  Clinging  to  Christ.  8s,  6s. 

0  HoLv' Saviour !   Friend  unseen. 
Since  on  thine  arm  thou  bid'st  me  lean. 
Help  me  throughout  life's  changing  scene, 

By  faith  to  cling  to  thee  ! 

2  Without  a  murmur  I  dismiss  ' 
My  former  dreams  of  earthly  bliss  ; 
My  joy,  my  recompense,  be  this, 

Each  hour  to  cling  to  thee! 

3  What  though  the  world  deceitful  prove, 
And  earthly  friends  and  hopes  remove; 
With  patient,  uncomplaining  love. 

Still  would  I  cling  to  thee. 

4  Though  oft  I  seem  to  tread  alone 

Life's  dreary  waste,  with  thorns  o'ergrown, 
Thy  voice  of  love,  in  gentlest  tone. 
Still  whispers,  "Cling  to  me!" 

5  Though  faith  and  hope  are  often  tried, 

1  ask  not,  need  not,  aught  beside; 
So  safe,  so  calm,  so  satisfied. 

The  soul  that  clings  to  thee ! 

Another  of  Miss  Charlotte  Elliott's  excel- 
lent hymns,  found  lately  in  most  of  the  hym- 
nals, with  the  date  aflfixed,  1834.  As  her 
father  died  in  1833,  it  is  likely  that  the 
mourning  experience  of  that  trying  season 
found  its  way  into  her  compositions. 
Through  that  period  it  is  known  that  she  de- 
rived much  comfort  by  the  constant  use  of 
her  pen ;  it  is  evidenced  by  the  wonderful 
spirituality  of  her  communion  with  Jesus 
Christ.  She  published  her  pieces  without 
her  name  in  various  periodicals.  Most  of 
these  appear  in  the  Invalid's  Hymn-Book, 
and  many  of  them  are  recognized  by  the  un- 
usual meter  she  seems  to  have  preferred. 
There  comes  a  time  in  the  history  of  most 
suffering  believers  when  the  best  comfort  is 
derived  from  a  mere  resting  upon  God,  as  he 
has  been  pleased  to  manifest  himself  in  the 
Saviour.     Simple  clinging  to  Christ  is  the  ex- 


ercise :  "  So  safe,  so  calm,  so   satisfied,"  is 
the  result. 

607  '^  Pleads  for  me."  8s,  6s. 

O  THOU,  the  contrite  sinner's  Friend, 
Who,  loving,  lov'st  them  to  the  end, 
On  this  alone  my  hopes  depend, 
That  thou  wilt  plead  for  me. 

2  When  weary  in  the  Christian  race. 
Far  off  appears  my  resting-place. 
And,  fainting,  I  mistrust  thy  grace. 

Then,  Saviour,  plead  for  me. 

3  When  I  have  erred  and  gone  astray, 
Afar  from  thine  and  wisdom's  way. 
And  see  no  glimmering,  guiding  ray 

Still,  Saviour,  plead  for  me. 

4  When  Satan,  by  my  sins  made  bold. 
Strives  from  thy  cross  to  loose  my  hold, 
Then  with  thy  pitying  arms  enfold. 

And  plead,  oh,  plead  for  me! 

5  And  when  my  dying  hour  draws  near, 
barkened  with  anguish,  guilt,  and  fear, 
Then  to  my  fainting  sight  appear. 

Pleading  in  heaven  for  me. 

This  hymn,  by  Miss  Charlotte  Elliott,  is  so 
like  the  preceding  one  that  we  might  almost 
think  it  was  fashioned  by  the  same  experi- 
ence and  meant  to  be  its  mate.  It  takes  up 
the  counterpart  of  the  other  in  its  refrain. 
The  believer  clings  and  the  Saviour  inter- 
cedes. The  poem  was  given  to  the  public 
in  a  collection  issued  by  Rev.  Henry  Venn, 
and  bears  the  date  1835,  showing  that  it  rep- 
resents the  same  period  of  depression  and 
sorrow.  Whether  it  was  the  intention  to 
break  through  her  custom  of  anonymous 
composition  or  not,  we  have  no  means  of 
knowing  ;  but  the  singular  fact  remains  that, 
by  a  printer's  mistake,  the  piece  was  attrib- 
uted to  Wesley.  Under  that  error  it  took  its 
chances  with  a  world  that  never  takes  care  to 
be  accurate,  and  for  years  went  its  way  as  an 
Epworth  foundling.  Only  lately  has  it  been 
restored. 

608  "  A  will  resigned."  8s,  6s. 

1  ASK  not  now  for  gold  to  gild. 

With  mocking  shine,  an  aching  frame; 
The  yearning  of  the  mind  is  stilled — 
I  ask  not  now  for  fame. 

2  But,  bowed  in  lowliness  of  mind, 

I  make  my  humble  wishes  known ; 
I  only  ask  a  Will  resigned, 
O  Father,  to  thine  own. 

3  In  vain  I  task  my  aching  brain, 

In  vain  the  sage's  thoughts  I  scan  ; 
I  only  feel  how  weak  I  am. 

How  poor  and  blind  is  man. 

4  And  now  my  spirit  sighs  for  home, 
And  longs  for  light  wherebv  to  see ; 

And,  like  a  weary  child,  would  come, 
O  Father,  unto  thee. 

The  Quaker  poet,  John  G.  Whittier,  wrote 
in  1848  a  piece  entitled  "  The  Wish  of  To- 
day," from  which  the  verses  constituting  this 


264 


THE  GOSPEL  : — ATONEMENT    ACCEPTED. 


hymn  are  chosen.  His  wishes  were  moderate 
then,  so  it  appears,  and  that  was  a  great  while 
ago.  There  comes  a  time  to  every  true  man 
when  the  world  has  very  insignificant  honors 
to  offer ;  he  is  perfectly  content  to  rest ;  he 
"  has  done  enough,"  as  Schumann  said  of 
Schubert  when  he  retired  from  life.  Whittier 
died  September  7,  1892.  The  wish  has  been 
granted  and  the  rest  has  come.  He  knows 
far  more  now  concerning  such  things  than 
he  ever  did  before.  Some  notion  of  this 
poet's  religious  convictions  can  be  gained 
from  what  he  once  said  to  a  minister  whom 
he  knew :  "  I  think  every  child  should  cling 
to  the  faith  of  its  parents  until  it  learns  of 
something  better.  The  heathen  until  they 
know  something  better  should  cling  to  the 
faith  of  their  parents.  I  can  conceive  of  their 
being  in  such  a  state  of  mind  that  they  would 
gladly  receive  the  truth  of  Christ  if  it  came  to 
them,  and  God  will  give  them  credit  for  that. 
In  fact,  I  do  n't  know  but  that  the  Hindus 
swinging  on  their  flesh  hooks,  and  others  like 
them,  are  doing  the  best  they  know.  They 
know  that  they  have  done  wrong  and  they 
want  to  atone  for  it  some  way,  and  this  is  the 
only  way  they  know  anything  about.  I  do  n't 
know  but  God  will  give  them  credit  for  their 
good  intentions.  They  want  to  get  rid  of 
their  sins  in  some  way." 


609  "Lamb  of  God:'  8s,  6s. 

Just  as  I  am,  without  one  plea, 
But  that  thy  blood  was  shed  for  me, 
And  that  thou  bid'st  me  come  to  thee, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come! 

2  Just  as  I  am,  and  waiting  not 
To  rid  my  soul  of  one  dark  blot, 
To  thee  whose  blood  can  cleanse  each  spot, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come! 

■},  Just  as  I  am,  though  tossed  about 
With  many  a  conflict,  many  a  doubt. 
Fightings  within,  and  fears  without, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come ! 

4  Just  as  I  am — thou  wilt  receive, 
Wilt  welcome,  pardon,  cleanse,  relieve; 
Because  thy  promise  I  believe, 

O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come! 

5  Just  as  I  am — thy  love  unknown 
Hath  broken  every  barrier  down ; 
Now,  to  be  thine,  yea,  thine  alone, 

O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come! 

The  Story  has  been  told  over  and  over,  and 
yet  it  will  never  appear  old,  of  the  way  in 
which  this  hymn  of  Miss  Charlotte  Elliott 
came  to  be  written.  In  1822  Dr.  Caesar  Ma- 
lan,  of  Geneva,  was  visiting  at  the  house  of 
this  young  woman's  father.  One  evening,, 
as  they  sat  conversing,  he  asked  her  if  she 
thought  herself  to  be  an  experimental  Chris- 
tian.     Her  health  was  failing  then  rapidly, 


and  she  was  harassed  often  with  pain  ;  the 
question  made  her  petulant  for  the  moment. 
She  resented  his  searching,  and  told  him  that 
religion  was  a  matter  which  she  did  not  wish 
to  discuss.  Dr.  Malan  replied,  with  his  usual 
sweetness  of  manner,  that  he  would  not  pur- 
sue the  subject  then  if  it  displeased  her,  but 
he  would  pray  that  she  might  "  give  her  heart 
to  Christ,  and  become  a  useful  worker  for 
him."  Several  days  afterward  the  young  lady 
apologized  for  her  abrupt  treatment  of  the 
minister,  and  confessed  that  his  question  and 
his  parting  remark  had  troubled  her.  "  But  I 
do  not  know  how  to  find  Christ,"  she  said  ; 
"  I  want  you  to  help  me."  "  Come  to  him 
just  as  you  are"  said  Dr.  Malan.  He  little 
thought  that  one  day  that  simple  reply  would 
be  repeated  in  song  by  the  whole  Christian 
world.  Further  advice  resulted  in  opening 
the  young  lady's  mind  to  spiritual  light,  and 
her  life  of  devout  activity  and  faith  began. 
She  possessed  literary  gifts,  and  having  as- 
sumed the  charge  of  The  Yearly  Reinem- 
brancer  on  the  death  of  its  editor,  she  insert- 
ed several  original  poems  (without  her  name) 
in  making  up  her  first  number.  One  of  the 
poems  was  "  Just  as  I  am,"  1836.  The  words 
of  pastor  Malan,  realized  in  her  own  expe- 
rience, were,  of  course,  the  writer's  inspira- 
tion. Beginning  thus  its  public  history  in  the 
columns  of  an  unpretending  religious  mag- 
azine, the  little  anonymous  hymn,  with  its 
sweet  counsel  to  troubled  minds,  found  its 
way  into  devout  persons'  scrap-books,  then 
into  religious  circles  and  chapel  assemblies, 
and  finally  into  the  hymnals  of  the  "  Church 
universal."  Some  time  after  its  publication  a 
philanthropic  lady,  struck  by  its  beauty  and 
spiritual  value,  had  it  printed  on  a  leaflet  and 
sent  for  circulation  through  the  cities  and 
towns  of  the  kingdom,  and  in  connection  with 
this  an  incident  at  an  English  watering-place 
seems  to  have  first  revealed  its  authorship  to 
the  world.  Miss  Elliott,  being  in  feeble 
health,  was  staying  at  Torquay,  in  Devon- 
shire, under  the  care  of  an  eminent  physician. 
One  day  the  doctor,  who  was  an  earnest 
Christian  man,  placed  one  of  those  floating 
leaflets  in  his  patient's  hands,  saying  he  felt 
sure  she  would  like  it.  The  surprise  and 
pleasure  were  mutual  when  she  recognized 
her  own  hymn  and  he  discovered  that  she 
was  its  author. 


6 10  "Be  merciful,  O  God." 

With  broken  heart  and  contrite  sigh, 
A  trembling  sinner.  Lord,  I  cry : 
Thy  pardoning  grace  is  rich  and  free: 
O  God,  be  merciful  to  me! 


L.  M. 


REPENTANCE   UNTO    LIFE. 


265 


2  I  smite  upon  my  troubled  breast, 
With  deep  and  conscious  guilt  oppressed ; 
Christ  and  his  cross  my  only  plea- 

O  God,  be  merciful  to  me! 

3  Nor  alms,  nor  deeds  that  I  have  done, 
Can  for  a  single  sin  atone; 

To  Calvary  alone  I  flee : 
O  God,  be  merciful  to  me! 

4  And  when,  redeemed  from  sin  and  hell, 
With  all  the  ransomed  throng  I  dwell. 
My  raptured  song  shall  ever  be, 

God  hath  been  merciful  to  me  I 

Miss  Havergal  once  wrote  to  a  friend,  "  I 
have  not  had  a  single  poem  come  to  me  for 
some  time,  till  last  night,  when  one  shot  into 
my  mind.  All  my  best  have  come  in  that 
way."  It  was  in  this  way,  by  inspiration, 
almost,  that  this  hymn  ".ca«ie  "  to  Rev.  Cor- 
nelius Elven,  during  a  revival  service  held  in 
the  Baptist  Church,  at  Bury  St.  Edmunds, 
Suffolk,  England,  in  January,  1852.  It  is  the 
only  poem  he  is  known  to  have  written  dur- 
ing the  fifty  years  of  his  ministry  :  it  became 
popular,  and  has  found  a  place  in  the  collec- 
tions in  Great  Britain  and  America.  Its  au- 
thor was  born  in  1797,  and  died  in  July,  1873. 
He  was  a  close  friend  of  Mr.  Spurgeon,  whose 
pulpit  he  occasionally  occupied.  After  his 
death,  Mr.  Spurgeon  wrote  a  sketch  of  his 
life,  full  of  kindly  appreciation  of  his  friend's 
many  virtues. 

6 1  I  Psalm  5T.  L.  M, 

Show  pity,  Lord  !  O  Lord  !  forgive ; 
Let  a  repenting  rebel  live  ; 
Are  not  thy  mercies  large  and  free? 
May  not  a  sinner  trust  in  thee? 

2  Oh,  wash  my  soul  from  every  sin, 
And  make  my  guilty  conscience  clean ; 
Here  on  my  heart  the  burden  lies, 
And  past  offences  pain  my  eyes. 

3  My  lips  with  shame  my  sins  confess, 
Agamst  thy  law,  against  thy  grace: 
Lord  !  should  thy  judgments  grow  severe, 
I  am  condemned,  but  thou  art  clear. 

4  Should  sudden  vengeance  seize  my  breath, 
I  must  pronounce  thee  just  in  death; 

And  if  my  soul  were  sent  to  hell, 
Thy  righteous  law  approves  it  well. 

5  Yet  save  a  trembling  sinner,  Lord  ! 
Whose  hope,  still  hovering  round  thy  word, 
Would  light  on  some  sweet  promise  there. 
Some  sure  support  against  despair. 

In  Rev.  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  Psalms  of  David, 
1 7 19,  this  version  of  the  fifty-first  Psalm  ap- 
pears with  an  additional  stanza.  It  bears  the 
title,  "  A  Penitent  pleading  for  Pardon."  The 
author  of  the  twenty-fifth  Psalm  in  his  prayer 
for  forgiveness  brings  forward  an  argument 
which  is  startling  in  its  originality :  "  For  thy 
name's  sake,  O  Lord,  pardon  mine  iniquity ; 
for  it  is  great."  He  does  not  say :  Forgive 
me,  for  I  have  done  much  good  in  my  day, 
and  am  going  to  do  more.     He  does  not  say  : 


Restore  me  to  thy  favor,  for  I  have  not  done 
much  evil,  when  my  poor  chances  are  fairly 
considered.  He  takes  his  stand  like  one  most 
anxiously  candid ;  he  blurts  out  the  whole 
truth  and  urges  it  without  an  extenuation  or 
apology.  He  says :  Pardon  me,  for  I  am  a 
great  sinner.  He  plants  himself  on  his  un- 
worthiness ;  he  argues  from  demerit.  Now 
this  is  so  contrary  to  all  human  notions  of 
pleading  that  it  awakes  curiosity.  We  say  to 
our  fellow-men  on  slightest  occasion — Pardon 
me,  I  did  not  mean  to.  This  penitent  says — 
Pardon  me,  I  did  mean  to.  And  as  a  final  re- 
sult, we  know  this  prayer  was  answered  per- 
fectly. We  are  constrained  on  the  instant  to 
recognize  a  virtue,  unmistakable  and  unparal- 
leled, in  superabounding  grace,  as  a  princi- 
ple of  the  gospel. 

"  Man's  plea  to  man  is  that  he  nevermore 
Will  beg,  and  that  he  never  begged  before 
Man's  plea  to  God  is,  that  he  did  obtain 
A  former  suit,  and  therefore  comes  again. 
How  good  a  God  we  serve,  who,  when  we  sue. 
Makes  his  old  gifts  the  examples  of  the  new !" 

It  seems,  therefore,  to  be  the  unusual  rule 
for  our  repentance  that  excuses  are  excluded 
and  aggravations  become  pleas  ;  extenuations 
only  hinder,  self-renunciations  prevail. 

612  "  The  Voice  of  Jesus.''''  los. 

Weary  of  earth,  and  laden  with  my  sin, 

1  look  at  heaven  and  long  to  enter  in, 
But  there  no  evil  thing  may  find  a  home : 
And  yet  I  hear  a  voice  that  bids  me  "  Come. 

2  So  vile  I  am,  how  dare  I  hope  to  stand 
In  the  pure  glory  of  that  holy  land? 
Before  the  whiteness  of  that  throne  appear? 

Yet  there  are  hands  stretched  out  to  draw  me  near. 

3  The  while  I  fain  would  tread  the  heavenly  way. 
Evil  is  ever  with  me  day  by  day ; 

Yet  on  mine  ears  the  gracious  tidings  fall, 

"  Repent,  confess,  thou  shalt  be  loosed  from  all.  " 

4  It  is  the  voice  of  Jesus  that  I  hear, 

His  are  the  hands  stretched  out  to  draw  me  near. 
And  his  the  blood  that  can  for  all  atone, 
And  set  me  faultless  there  before  the  throne. 

5  'T  was  he  who  found  me  on  the  deathly  wild. 
And  made  me  heir  of  heaven,  the  Father's  child, 
And  day  by  day,  whereby  my  soul  may  live, 
Gives  me  his  grace  of  pardon,  and  will  give. 

Rev.  Samuel  John  Stone,  the  author  of  this 
hymn,  was  born  April  25,  1839,  at  Whitmore, 
Staffordshire,  England.  It  has  been  remarked 
as  a  somewhat  singular  circumstance  that 
this  same  festival,  St.  Mark's  day,  was  that 
upon  which  John  Keble  first  saw  the  light 
nearly  half  a  century  before ;  the  mantle  of 
this  earlier  poet  has  apparently  fallen  upon  a 
worthy  successor,  who  has  yet  many  years  of 
usefulness  and  promise.  He  was  graduated 
at  Pembroke  College  in  Oxford,  1862,  and  in 
September  of  the  same  year  was  ordained  to 
the  curacy  of  Windsor,  in   which  he  abode 


266 


THE   GOSPEL  : — ATONEMENT    ACCEPTED. 


REV.   SAMUEL    JOHN   STONE. 

eight  years,  winning  the  esteem  and  confi- 
dence of  all  with  whom  he  came  in  contact. 
He  then  removed  to  Haggerston,  a  suburb  of 
London,  where  he  became  his  father's  curate. 
Afterwards,  when  the  growing  infirmities  of 
his  father  necessitated  a  removal  to  a  less  la- 
borious incumbency,  he  was  made  Vicar  of 
St.  Paul's  in  Haggerston.  Here  he  yet  remains, 
preferring  the  charge  he  has  among  grateful 
and  middle-class  parishioners  to  any  of  the 
better  benefices  which  have  been  proposed  for 
his  acceptance.  He  is  a  "  High  Churchman," 
though  it  is  said  he  is  not  a  ritualist ;  still, 
some  of  his  stanzas  have  had  to  be  altered  in 
order  to  fit  them  to  the  taste  and  use  of  the 
churches  at  large.  This  one  now  before  us 
is  taken  from  Lyra  Fz'deh'um,  1865.  It  was 
based  upon  the  Article  in  the  Creed  of  the 
Church  of  England  entitled,  "  The  Forgive- 
ness of  Sins,"  and  was  originally  composed  to 
be  sung  at  the  services  of  a  parochial  mission. 
Joined  to  the  tune  "  Langran,"  with  which  it 
is  usually  sung,  it  becomes  one  of  the  tender- 
est  and  most  effective  of  penitential  hymns. 

€  1 3  "  Thine  all  the  merit."  los. 

O  Jesus  Christ  the  righteous  !  live  in  me, 
That,  when  in  glory  I  thy  face  shall  see, 
Within  the  Father's  house,  my  glorious  dress 
May  be  the  garment  of  thy  righteousness. 

2  Then  thou  wilt  welcome  me,  O  righteous  Lord, 
Thine  all  the  merit,  mine  the  great  reward  ; 
Mine  the  life  won,  and  thine  the  life  laid  down. 
Thine  the  thorn-plaited,  mine  the  righteous  crown. 

3  Naught  can  I  bring,  dear  Lord,  for  all  I  owe; 
Yet  let  my  full  heart  what  it  can  bestow ; 
Like  Mary's  gift  let  my  devotion  prove. 
Forgiven  greatly,  how  I  greatly  love. 


This  is  the  latter  part  of  the  previous  hymn 
by  Rev.  Samuel  John  Stone,  altered  slightly 
in  order  to  fit  it  more  appropriately  for  inde- 
pendent use.  The  whole  piece  appears  with 
eight  stanzas  in  most  of  the  English  hymnals. 
It  is  one  of  the  finest  in  our  language,  as  an 
eager  and  wistful  imploration  of  pardon  for 
one's  iniquities  in  the  sight  of  a  merciful  God. 
The  imagery  is  exquisite  and  pathetically 
simple  and  Scriptural ;  and  the  tune  "  Lan- 
gran "  carries  the  sentiment  well. 


614 


"Jesus  died." 


Lord,  I  am  come  !  thy  promise  is  my  plea. 
Without  thy  word  I  durst  not  venture  nigh  ! 

But  thou  hast  called  the  burdened  soul  to  thee, 
A  weary,  burdened  soul,  O  Lord,  am  I ! 

2  Bowed  down  beneath  a  heavy  load  of  sin. 
By  Satan's  fierce  temptations  sorely  prest. 

Beset  without,  and  full  of  fears  within, 
Trembling  and  faint  I  come  to  thee  for  rest. 

3  Be  thou  my  refuge,  Lord,  my  hiding-place  ; 
I  know  no  force  can  tear  me  from  thy  side  ; 

Unmoved,  I  then  may  all  accusers  face, 
And  answer  every  charge,  with — "Jesus  died." 

This  group  of  three  stanzas  in  the  meter  of 
tens  seems  to  have  a  mysterious  history-  as  to 
its  belonging  and  recognition  in  the  minds  of 
some.  It  is  found  in  the  Olney  Hymns,  1779, 
where  it  is  credited  to  Rev.  John  Newton. 
Somehow  it  is  associated  with  the  other  fa- 
miliar hymn,  "Approach,  my  soul,  the  mercy- 
seat."  Indeed,  these  two  pieces  are  con- 
nected under  a  common  title,  "  The  Effort ;" 
the  first  of  which  begins,  "  Cheer  up,  my 
soul,  there  is  a  mercy-seat."  In  the  present 
form  this  opening  verse  is  left  off.  The  simi- 
larity in  sentiment  between  the  two  poems, 
with  the  difference  in  meter,  has  apparently 
created  an  impression  in  the  minds  of  a  few 
critics  that  some  unknown  compiler  has  made 
a  new  composition  out  of  the  original,  and 
liked  it  so  much  that  he  credited  the  whole  to 
the  real  author.  But  there,  in  all  the  edi- 
tions of  0/ney  Hymns  from  the  very  first, 
stand  the  two  pieces  quite  unconscious  of 
any  oddity. 


615 


The  dying  thief. 


"  Lord,  when  thy  kingdom  comes,  remember  me;' 
Thus  spake  the  dying  lips  to  dying  ears  ; 

Oh,  faith,  which  in  that  darkest  hour  could  see 
The  promised  glory  of  the  far-off  years  ! 

2  No  kingly  sign  declares  that  glorv  now. 
No  ray  of  hope  lights  up  that  awful  hour  ; 

A  thorny  crown  surrounds  the  bleeding  brow, 
The  hands  are  stretched  in  weakness,  not  in 
power. 

3  Vet  hear  the  word  the  dying  Saviour  saith, 
"  Thou  too  Shalt  rest  in  Paradise  to-day  ;" 

Oh,  words  of  love  to  answer  words  of  faith  ! 
Oh,  words  of  hope  for  those  who  live  to  pray ! 


REPENTANCE   UNTO    LIFE. 


267 


REV.   W.    D.    MACLAGAN,    D.    D. 

The   Rev.  William   Dalrymple   Maclagan, 
D.  D.,  has  just  lately,  1891,  been  elevated  to 
the  Archbishopric  of  York.     He  was  born  in 
Edinburgh,  June  18,  1826,  was  graduated  at 
St.  Peter's  College  in  Cambridge,  1856,  was  . 
ordained  to  the  ministry  in  1856,  becoming 
the  curate  of  St.  Saviour's,  Paddington,  and 
afterward  of  St.  Stephen's,  Marylebone,  both 
in  London.     In  1869  he  was  placed  as  rector 
of  St.  Mary's,  Newington.     In  1878  he  was 
made  the  Bishop,  of  Lichfield,  and  in  the  be- 
ginning of  1 89 1  was  chosen  to  the  station  he 
now  occupies.     He  has  published  some  few 
sermons   and  written   some   hymns,  but  no 
very  conspicuous   mark   has  been  made  by 
him  in  the  line  of  literary  achievement.     The 
piece  now  before  us  was  contributed  to  the 
edition  of  Hymns,  Ancient  and  Modern,  issued 
in    1875.     ^"^   of  the  late  newspapers  has 
given  us  these  interesting  particulars  of  his 
history:  "Archbishop  Maclagan  is  affection- 
ately remembered  at  Newington  Butts,  where 
he  found  a  deserted  church  and  a  parish  over- 
run with  and  dominated  by  the  outposts  of 
Mr.  Spurgeon's  Tabernacle,  and  left  behind 
him  one  of  the  largest  congregations  in  Lon- 
don.    Dr.  Maclagan  always  maintained  the 
most  amicable  relations  with  Mr.  Spurgeon, 
who  has  now  become  a  consistent  Unionist; 
and  the  new  Archbishop  of  York  would  find 
as  much  pleasure  as  the  Archbishop  of  Can- 
terbury in  taking  tea  with  the  most  eminent 
member  of  the  Baptist  persuasion.     The  only 


complaints  alleged  against  him  are  that  he 
has  overorganized  his  diocese  and  is  too  much 
of  a  gentleman  for  the  Black  Country.  It  is 
impossible  to  consider  the  elevation  of  the 
Bishop  of  Lichfield  without  considering  what 
a  helpmate  he  has  in  Mrs.  Maclagan,  the 
sister  of  Lord  Barrington,  who  is  practically 
a  suffragan.  She  has  exceptional  intellectual 
endowments,  while  she  is  an  excellent  speaker, 
never  forgetting  that  she  is  a  woman,  and  an 
admirable  organizer." 

Q  I Q  "  Remember  me."  los. 

Lord,  when  with  dying  lips  my  prayer  is  said. 
Grant  that  in  faith  thy  kingdom  I  may  see; 

And,  thinking  on  thy  cross  and  bleeding  head, 
May  breathe  my  parting  words,  "  Remember  me." 

2  Remember  me,  but  not  my  shame  or  sin  ; 

Thy  cleansing  blood  hath  washed  them  all  away ; 
Thy  precious  death  for  me  did  pardon  win  ; 
Thy  blood  redeemed  me  in  that  awful  day. 

3  Remember  me ;  yet  how  canst  thou  forget 
What  pain  and  anguish  I  have  caused  to  thee, 

The  cross,  the  agony,  the  bloody  sweat, 
And  all  the  sorrow  thou  didst  bear  for  me? 

4  Remember  me;  'and,  ere  I  pass  away. 

Speak  thou  the  assuring  word  that  sets  us  free, 
And  make  thy  promise  to  my  heart,  "  To-day 
Thou  too  shalt  rest  in  Paradise  with  me." 

This  is  a  part  of  the  same  poem  as  the  one 
just  before  it,  and  of  course  by  the  same  au- 
thor. Both  are  founded  upon  the  story  of 
the  thief  upon  the  cross,  as  related  in  Luke 
23:42,  43:  "And  he  said  unto  Jesus,  Lord, 
remember  me  when  thou  comest  into  thy 
kingdom.  And  Jesus  said  unto  him.  Verily,  I 
say  unto  thee.  To-day  shalt  thou  be  with  me 
in  paradise." 


617 


"Lord,  I  believe.' 


Yes,  I  do  feel,  my  God,  that  I  am  thine; 

Thou  art  my  joy— myself,  mine  only  grief; 
Hear  my  complaint,  low  bending  at  thy  shrine — 

"  Lord,  I  believe,  help  thou  mine  unbelief." 

2  Unworthy  even  to  approach  so  near. 

My  soul  lies  trembling  like  a  summer's  leaf; 
Yet,  oh,  forgive!  I  doubt  not,  though  I  fear  ■ 
"  Lord,  I  believe ;  help  thou  mine  unbelief." 

3  True,  I  am  weak,  ah  !  ver>^  weak  ;  but  then 
I  know  the  source  whence  I  can  draw  relief; 

And,  though  repulsed,  I  still  can  plead  again— 
"  Lord,  I  believe,  help  thou  mine  unbelief." 

4  Oh,  draw  me  nearer  ;  for,  too  far  away. 

The  beamings  of  thy  brightness  are  too  brief; 
While  faith,  though  fainting,  still    has  strength  to 
pray— 
"  Lord,  I  believe :  help  thou  mine  unbelief." 

This  is  selected  from  Rev.  Dr.  John  Samuel 
Bewley  Monsell's  Hymns  and  Miscellaneous 
Poems,  Dublin,  1837.  It  is  entitled,  "  Assur- 
ance." And  yet  there  is  conflict  mingled  with 
the  strong  expressions  of  confidence.  The 
refrain  at  the  close  of  each  stanza  endears  this 
composition  to  the  American  heart.  Refer- 
ence is  made,  of  course,  to  Mark  9 :  24  ;  the 


268 


THE   GOSPEL  : — ATONEMENT   ACCEPTED. 


Story  in  the  passage  is  an  excellent  illustration 
of  the  sentiment  of  the  hymn. 


618 


"Jesus,  our  Salvation." 


7S,  6s.  D. 


O  Jesus,  our  salvation, 

Low  at  thy  cross  we  lie ; 
Lord,  in  thy  great  compassion, 

Hear  our  bewailing  cry. 
We  come  to  thee  with  mourning, 

We  come  to  thee  in  woe ; 
With  contrite  hearts  returning, 

And  tears  that  overflow. 

2  O  gracious  Intercessor, 
O  Priest  within  the  vail, 

Plead  for  each  lost  transgressor 

The  blood  that  cannot  fail. 
We  spread  our  sins  before  thee. 

We  tell  them  one  by  one ; 
Oh,  for  thy  name's  great  glory, 

Forgive  all  we  have  done. 

3  Oh,  by  thy  cross  and  passion. 
Thy  tears  and  agony, 

And  crown  of  cruel  fashion, 

And  death  on  Calvarv' ; 
By  all  that  untold  suffering. 

Endured  by  thee  alone; 
O  Priest,  O  spotless  oflering. 

Plead  for  us,  and  atone  ! 

4  And  in  these  hearts  now  broken. 
Re-enter  thou  and  reign, 

And  say,  by  that  dear  token. 

We  are  absolved  again. 
And  build  us  up,  and  guide  us. 

And  guard  us  day  by  day ; 
And  in  thy  presence  hide  us. 

And  take  our  sins  away. 

Rev.  James  Hamilton,  M,  A.,  author  of  the 
hymn  quoted,  was  born  at  Glendollar,  Scot- 
land, April  i8,  1819.  He  received  his  educa- 
tion at  Corpus  Christi  College,  Cambridge ; 
was  ordained  in  1845,  and  had  charge  of  a 
succession  of  churches  until  1 866,  when  he  be- 
came incumbent  of  St.  Barnabas',  Bristol.  A 
year  afterward  he  was  appointed  vicar  of 
Doulting,  Somersetshire,  in  the  diocese  of 
Bath  and  Wells,  and  according  to  our  present 
information  he  still  holds  that  position.  Of 
the  hymns  he  has  written,  only  three  are  in 
general  use ;  one  of  these  is  the  piece  before 
us.  It  was  contributed  to  the  People's  Hym- 
nal, in  1867,  and  the  first  line  originally  read, 
"  O  Jesu  !  Lord  most  merciful." 


Very  welcome  to  us  all  the  appearance  of 
Miss  Charlotte  Elliott's  name  once  more  as 
the  author  of  the  hymn  before  us.  It  is  not 
one  of  her  conspicuous  compositions,  for  we 
fail  to  find  a  mention  of  it  in  either  English 
Hymns,  or  Dictionary  of  Hymnology ;  but 
we  ha\-e  been  printing  it  and  using  it  as  a 
very  evangelical  and  comforting  help  for 
many  years.  It  was  published  in  The  In- 
valid's Hymn-Book  in  1 834.  The  simplicity 
with  which  this  devoted  woman,  herself 
racked  and  tried  with  pain,  urged  her  way 
straight  towards  the  cross  of  her  suffering 
Redeemer,  there  to  find  her  rest,  is  remarka- 
ble. 


Q 1 9  Hope  at  the  Cross. 

When  human  hopes  all  wither. 

And  friends  no  aid  supply. 
Then  whither.  Lord,  ah !  whither 

Can  turn  my  straining  eye? 
'Mid  storms  of  grief  still  rougher, 

'Midst  darker,  deadlier  shade. 
That  cross  where  thou  didst  suffer, 

On  Calvary  was  displayed. 

2  On  that  my  gaze  I  fasten, 

My  refuge  that  1  make : 
Though  sorely  thou  mayst  chasten. 

Thou  never  canst  forsake ; 
Thou  on  that  cross  didst  languish, 

Ere  glorj-  crowned  thy  head  ! 
And  I,  through  death  and  ang^uish. 

Must  be  to  glory  led. 


620  ^'  'A^  Door.  7S,  6s.  D. 

O  Jesus,  thou  art  standing 

Outside  the  fast-closed  door. 
In  lowly  patience  waiting 

To  pass  the  threshold  o'er: 
We  bear  the  name  of  Christians, 

His  name  and  sign  we  bear: 
Oh,  shame,  thrice  shame  upon  us  i 

To  keep  him  standing  there. 

2  O  Jesus,  thou  art  knocking: 
And  lo !  that  hand  is  scarred, 

And  thorns  thy  brow  encircle. 
And  tears  thy  face  have  marred  : 

Oh,  love  that  passeth  knowledge. 
So  patiently  to  wait ! 

Oh,  sin  that  hath  no  equal, 
So  fast  to  bar  the  gate ! 

3  O  Jesus,  thou  art  pleading 
In  accents  meek  and  low — 

"  I  died  for  you,  my  children, 

And  will  ye  treat  me  so?" 
O  Lord,  with  shame  and  sorrow 

We  open  now  the  door : 
Dear  Saviour,  enter,  enter, 

And  leave  us  nevermore ! 

Bishop  William  Walsham  How  first  pub- 
lished this,  the  most  popular  and  perhaps  the 
most  useful  of  all  his  excellent  compositions, 
in  the  Supplemefit  to  Psalms  and  Hymns  is- 
sued 1867.  It  refers  to  Revelation  3:20: 
"  Behold,  I  stand  at  the  door  and  knock :  if 
any  man  hear  my  voice,  and  open  the  door,  I 
will  come  in  to  him,  and  will  sup  with  him, 
and  he  with  me."  One  of  the  best  paintings 
of  our  time  has  been  given  to  the  world  of 
art  by  Holman  Hunt,  entitled  "  The  Light  of 
7s,  6s.  D.  the  World."  It  represents  the  scene  which 
the  hymn  portrays  with  a  fidelity  as  pathetic 
as  it  is  forceful.  Some  of  the  incidental  forms 
of  Oriental  imagery  seem  likewise  to  have  been 
taken  by  the  artist  from  the  similar  scene  sug- 
gested by  the  Bride's  words  concerning  her 
Lord  in  Canticles  5:2:  "I  sleep,  but  my 
heart  waketh :  it  is  the  voice  of  my  beloved 
that  knocketh,  saying.  Open  to  me,  my  sister, 
my  love,  my  dove,  my  undefiled  :  for  my  head  is 
filled  with  dew,  and  my  locks  with  the  drops  of 
the  night."  The  Figure  stands  as  if  in  the  act 
of  waiting  and  listening.    He  is  in  the  garden. 


REPENTANCE   UNTO    LIFE. 


269 


THE    LIGHI-    OF     THE   WORLD. 


for  the  vines  trail  across  the  door  still  shut  to 
him  ;  he  is  under  the  shadows  of  night,  for  he 
bears  a  lantern  which  flings  its  beams  upon 
the  fruit  that  lies  in  the  path  by  his  feet.  The 
story  is  told  with  a  delicacy  that  rivals  de- 
scription ;  the  painting  is  an  exquisite  illus- 
tration of  the  spirit  of  the  hymn. 

621  "Give  Us  Pardon." 

We  stand  in  deep  repentance 

Before  thy  throne  of  love ; 
O  God  of  grace,  forgive  us; 

The  stain  of  guilt  remove; 
Behold  us  while  with  weeping 

We  lift  our  eyes  to  thee; 
And  all  our  sins  subduing. 

Our  Father,  set  us  free ! 

2  Oh,  shouldst  thou  from  us  fallen 
Withhold  thy  grace  to  guide. 

For  ever  we  should  wander 
From  thee,  and  peace,  aside ; 


But  thou  to  spirits  contrite 
Dost  light  and  life  impart, 

Tnat  man  may  learn  to  serve  thee 
With  thankful,  joyous  heart. 

3  Our  souls — on  thee  we  cast  them. 

Our  only  refuge  thou  ! 
Thy  cheering  words  revive  us, 

VVhen  pressed  with  ^rief  we  bow. 
Thou  bearest  the  trustmg  spirit 

Upon  thy  loving  breast. 
And  givest  all  thy  ransomed 

A  sweet,  unending  rest. 

Dr.  Ray  Palmer  said  once  concerning  this 
hymn  that  he  wrote  it  a  long  while  ago,  so 
far  back  as  in  1834  some  time;  and  that  he 
was  under  the  impression  of  having  made  it 
as  a  translation  of  a  German  piece,  the  name 
and  place  of  which  he  had  forgotten.  He  was 
not  a  fluent  scholar  in  that  language  then,  and 
the  volume  he  was  reading  did  not  otherwise 
attract  his  attention.  The  curiosity  of  some 
hymnologists,  familiar  with  the  religious  po- 
etry of  the  Fatherland,  has  been  exercised  in 
the  matter ;  but  the  work  of  \)r.  Palmer  is 
too  thoroughly  original  to  represent  any  poem 
they  can  tind.  It  was  first  published  in  the 
Presbyterian  Parish  Hyvms,  1843. 

622  The  Contrite  heart.  8s,  4s. 

There  is  a  holy  sacrifice. 
Which  God  in  heaven  will  not  despise, 
Yea,  which  is  precious  in  his  eyes — 
The  contrite  heart. 

2  That  lofty  One,  before  whose  throne 
The  countless  hosts  of  heaven  bow  down, 
Another  dwelling-place  will  own — 

The  contrite  heart. 

3  The  holy  One,  the  Son  of  God, 
His  pardoning  love  will  shed  abroad. 
Arid  consecrate  as  his  abode 

The  contrite  heart. 

4  The  Holy  Spirit  from  on  high 
Will  listen  to  its  faintest  sigh, 
And  cheer,  and  bless,  and  purify 

The  contrite  heart. 

5  Saviour,  I  cast  my  hopes  on  thee; 
Such  as  thou  art  I  fain  would  be ; 
In  mercv.  Lord,  bestow  on  me 

The  contrite  heart. 

Miss  Charlotte  Elliott  included  this  hymn 
in  her  Hours  of  Sorrono,  1 836,  entitling  it,  as 
it  appears  here,  "  The  Contrite  Heart."  The 
word  which  makes  the  burden  of  the  quaint 
little  refrain  at  the  end  of  each  stanza  in  this 
7s,  6s.  D-  pathetic  prayer  is  possessed  of  a  very  sug- 
gestive meaning  as  one  traces  it  out  etymo- 
logically.  It  signifies  bruised,  rubbed,  as 
grain  is  beaten  or  threshed  from  its  chaff  and 
ground  down  into  meal.  Spiritually,  it  refers 
to  a  certain  brokenness  of  heart,  peculiar  to 
an  experience  of  penitence  for  sin  and  shame 
because  of  wTong-doing.  Good  old  Bishop 
Atterbury  says :  "  Contrition  is  an  holy  grief, 
excited  by  a  lively  sense,  not  only  of  the  pun- 


270 


THE   GOSPEL  :— ATONEMENT  ACCEPTED. 


ishment  due  to  our  guilt  (that  the  schools  call 
attrition)  but  likewise  of  the  infinite  goodness 
of  God,  against  which  we  have  offended. " 
Hence  comes  the  old  answer  in  the  Cate- 
chism :  "  Repentance  unto  life  is  a  saving 
grace,  whereby  a  sinner,  out  of  a  true  sense 
of  his  sin,  and  apprehension  of  the  mercy  of 
God  in  Christ,  doth,  with  grief  and  hatred  of 
his  sin,  turn  from  it  unto  God,  with  full  pur- 
pose of,  and  endeavor  after,  new  obedience." 

623 


8s,  4s. 


The  Heart  Surrendered. 

God  of  my  life  !  thy  boundless  grace 
Chose,  pardoned,  and  adoptwi  me; 
My  rest,  my  home,  my  dwelling-place ; 
I  come  to  thee. 

2  Jesus,  my  hope,  my  rock,  my  shield  ! 
Whose  precious  blood  was  shed  for  me, 

Into  thy  hands  my  soul  I  yield  ; 
I  come  to  thee. 

3  Spirit  of  glory  and  of  God  ! 

Long  hast  thou  deigned  my  guide  to  be ; 
Now  be  thy  comfort  sweet  bestowed ; 
I  come  to  thee. 

4  I  come  to  join  that  countless  host 
Who  praise  thj-  name  unceasingly  • 

Blest  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost ! 
I  come  to  thee. 


The  Invalid's  Hymn-Book,  published  in 
1 84 1,  contained  among  many  other  poems  by 
Miss  Charlotte  Elliott  the  one  quoted  here. 
It  is  based  upon  the  fifth  verse  of  the  thirty- 
first  Psalm,  "  Into  thy  hand  I  commit  my 
spirit ;  thou  hast  redeemed  me,  O  Lord  God 
of  truth."  The  poem  emphasizes  the  fact  that 
all  the  steps  in  the  process  of  redemption  are 
the  direct  result  of  God's  mercy  which  chooses, 
pardons,  and  adopts  us.  Not  from  ourselves, 
but  from  above,  comes  the  saving  impulse. 
(See  Isaiah  6  : 6.)  Isaiah,  crying  there,  in  all 
the  abasement  and  abandonment  of  his  shame, 
had  no  need  to  thank  even  the  seraph  with 
the  coal  of  fire  in  his  hands.  The  coal  came 
from  the  King.  The  altar  was  the  King's. 
The  seraphim  were  only  the  King's  messen- 
gers. Every  step  in  the  scheme  of  human 
salvation,  from  its  earliest  beginning  at  the 
new  birth,  to  its  latest  triumph  in  the  new 
song,  is  God's.  "  Salvation  belongeth  unto 
the  Lord."  When  the  redeemed  in  heaven 
sing  their  highest  songs  of  ascription,  they 
can  say  no  more,  no  less,  than  this.  John  tells 
us  in  the  Revelation  what  he  heard  behind 
the  vail  :  "  After  this  I  beheld,  and,  lo,  a  great 
multitude,  which  no  man  could  number,  of  all 
nations,  and  kindreds,  and  people,  and  tongues, 
stood  before  the  throne,  and  before  the  Lamb, 
clothed  with  white  robes,  and  palms  in  their 
hands ;  and  cried  with  a  loud  voice,  saying. 
Salvation  to  our  God  which  sitteth  upon  the 
throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb." 


624  "  O  Lamb  of  God."  Ss,  4s. 

O  Lamb  of  God  !  that  tak'st  away 

Our  sin,  and  bid'st  our  sorrow  cease, 
Turn  thou,  oh,  turn  this  night  to  day, 
Grant  us  thy  peace  ! 

2  The  troubled  world  hath  war  without ; 
The  restless,  wayward  heart  within 

Hath  fear  and  weariness  and  doubt. 
And  death  and  sin. 

3  .And  there  are  needs  that  none  can  know 
And  tears  no  eye  but  thine  can  see; 

Hopes  naught  can  satisfy  below ; 
We  look  lo  thee. 

4  'T  is  not  the  calm,  deceitful  dream 
That  earth  calls  peace,  we  ask  for  now : 

No  dropping  down  the  fatal  stream 
With  careless  prow. 

5  Probe  deep  the  wound  if  so  thou  wilt. 
If  pain  must  wake  us.     Purge  our  dross : 

Help  us  to  lay  our  load  of  guilt 
Beneath  thy  cross. 

The  author  of  the  hymn  before  us  is  Mrs. 
Alessie  Bond  Faussett.  She  was  born  at 
Bailee  Rectory,  County  Down,  Ireland,  Janu- 
ary 8,  1 841  ;  and  was  married  to  the  Rev. 
Henry  Faussett.  curate  of  Edenderry.  Omagh, 
in  1875.  She  has  contributed  a  few  songs  to 
Lyra  Hibernica  and  to  the  Clmrch  Hymnal, 
which  was  issued  in  Dublin  in  1881'.  The 
piece  here  given  was  written  in  1865,  but  was 
not  published  until  1870.  when  it  appeared  in 
a  volume  entitled  The  Truttnph  of  Faith. 

625  "  Thou  art  my  all."  8s,  4s. 

Jesus,  my  Saviour  !  look  on  me. 
For  I  am  wear>-  and  opprest ; 

1  come  to  cast  myself  on  thee; 

Thou  art  my  Rest. 

2  Look  down  on  me,  for  I  am  weak, 

I  feel  the  toilsome  Journey's  leng^th  ; 
Thine  aid  omnipotent  I  seek : 
Thou  art  my  Strength. 

3  J  am  bewildered  on  my  way. 
Dark  and  tempestuous  is  the  night ; 

Oh,  send  thou  forth  some  cheering  ray: 
Thou  art  my  Light. 

4  When  Satan  flings  his  fiery  darts, 
I  look  to  thee :  my  terrors  cease; 

Thy  cross  a  hiding-place  imparts : 
Thou  art  my  Peace. 

5  Standing  alone  on  Jordan's  brink. 
In  that  tremendous  latest  strife, 

Thou  wilt  not  suffer  me  to  sink : 
Thou  art  my  Life. 

6  Thou  wilt  my  ever\-  want  supply, 
Ev'n  to  the  end,  whate'er  befall ; 

Through  life,  in  death,  eternally. 
Thou  art  my  All. 

For  many  years  this  hymn  has  been  credit- 
ed, on  the  highest  authority,  to  Rev.  John 
Ross  Macduff,"D.  D.,  with  the  date  of  "  1853  " 
attached  to  it.  Thus  it  appears  in  The  Evati- 
gelical  Hymnal,  and  thus  it  appears  in  others 
with  the  annotation  of  Rev.T.  M.  Bird.  But 
we  learn  at  last  from  the  Dictionary  of  Hym- 


REPENTANCE   UNTO    LIFE. 


271 


nology,  1892,  that  it  is  found  in  Miss  Charlotte 
Elliott's  Thoiights  in  Verse  on  Sacred  Sub- 
jects, 1869.  She  entitled  it,  "Christ,  All  in 
All."  This  modest  lady  kept  her  reserve  so 
very  closely  at  times  that  her  religious  wri- 
tings were  difficult  to  recognize. 

626  Leaning  on  Christ.  8s,  4s. 

Leaning  on  thee,  my  guide  and  friend. 

My  gracious  Saviour,  I  am  blest : 
Though  weary  thou  dost  condescend 
To  be  my  rest. 

2  Leaning  on  thee,  with  childlike  faith, 
To  thee  the  future  I  confide ; 

Each  step  of  life's  untrodden  path 
Thy  love  will  guide. 

3  Leaning  on  thee,  I  breathe  no  moan, 
Though  faint  with  languor,  parched  with  heat : 

Thy  will  has  now  become  my  own- 
That  will  is  sweet. 

4  Leaning  on  thee,  though  faint  and  weak, 
Too  weak  another  voice  to  hear, 

Tliy  heavenly  accents  comfort  speak, 
"  Be  of  good  cheer." 

Once  more  we  choose  our  song  of  trust 
from  Miss  Charlotte  Elliott's  hymns.  It  is 
taken  from  her  Hoitrs  of  Sorrow  Cheered  and 
Comforted,  1836.  It  bears  a  title  that  might 
suggest  a  renewed  season  of  illness  in  her 
fragile  life,  "  Death  Anticipated."  She  uses 
again  that  pleasing  meter  in  her  verse  which 
has  become  to  us  now  almost  her  character- 
istic sign.  The  great  theologian,  Tholuck, 
once  said  to  an  American  tourist :  "  Your 
people  in  the  United  States  have  in  your  lan- 
guage one  expression  which  we  do  not  have 
in  the  German.  You  speak  of  '  a  subdued 
spirit.'     It  is  very  beautiful." 

627  Help  from  above.  8s,  4s. 

Mv  heart  lies  dead  ;  and  no  increase 
Doth  my  dull  husbandry  improve: 
Oh,  let  thy  graces,  without  cease. 
Drop  from  above. 

2  Thy  dew  doth  every  morning  fall : 
And  shall  the  dew  outstrip  thy  Dove? 

The  dew  for  which  earth  cannot  call. 
Drop  from  above! 

3  The  world  is  tempting  still  my  heart 
Unto  a  hardness  void  of  love  \ 

Let  heavenly  grace,  to  cross  its  art, 
Drop  from  above ! 

4  Oh,  come ;  for  thou  dost  know  the  way ! 
Or  if  to  me  thou  wilt  not  move. 

Remove  me  where  I  need  not  say, 
"  Drop  from  above !" 

Rev.  George  Herbert,  M.  A.,  was  born  at 
his  father's  home,  Montgomery  Castle,  April 
3,  1 593,  and  educated  at .  Trinity  College, 
Cambridge,  graduating  in  161 1.  His  pros- 
pects in  life  seemed  brilliant,  as  he  was  an  in- 
timate friend  of  Lord  Bacon,  Bishop  An- 
drewes,  and  other  influential  men,  and  was 
favored  by  James  the  First ;  but  the  death  of 


the  king  and  of  the  Duke  of  Richmond  de- 
stroyed his  hopes  of  Court  preferment.  He 
withdrew  to  Kent,  where  he  decided  to  enter 
the  Chui-ch  ;  and  in  1626  he  was  appointed  to 
the  living  of  Leighton  Bromswold,  Hunts.  He 
remained  there  only  three  years  when  his 
health  gave  way,  and  he  removed  to  Dantsey 
in  Wiltshire,  after  a  short  stay  at  his  brother's 
house  at  Woodford,  Esse.x.  In  1630  he  was 
appointed  rector  at  Bemerton,  but  his  work 
there  was  brief,  his  death  occurring  in  Febru- 
ary, 1632.  Mr.  Herbert  published  a  number 
of  works  both  in  prose  and  poetry,  and  many 
of  the  latter  have  become  endeared  to  Chris- 
tians everywhere ;  but  the  quaintness  of  his 
lyrics  and  the  peculiarity  of  their  meters  have 
rendered  most  of  them  unavailable  for  con- 
gregational uses.  The  poem  here  quoted  ap- 
peared in  his  posthumous  work,  The  Temple, 
1633,  ^"d  is  full  of  sweetness  and  pathos.  It 
is  a  fervent  prayer  for  divine  grace  to  renew 
and  inspire  a  heart  which  is  sore  tried  by  the 
coldness  and  worldliness  which  threaten  to 
overwhelm  it. 


628 


"  Even  me  !" 


8s,  7s,  3. 


Lord,  I  hear  of  showers  of  blessing 
Thou  art  scattering  full  and  free : 

Showers  the  thirsty  land  refreshing; 
Let  some  droppings  fall  on  me — ^Even  me. 

2  Pass  me  not,  O gracious  Father; 
Sinful  though  my  heart  may  be; 

Thou  mightst  leave  me,  but  the  rather 
Let  thy  mercy  light  on  me — Even  me. 

3  Pass  me  not,  O  gracious  Saviour; 
Let  me  love  and  cling  to  thee ; 

I  am  longing  for  thy  favor. 
Whilst  thou'rt  calling,  oh,  call  me — Even  me. 

4  Pass  me  not,  O  mighty  Spirit ; 
Thou  canst  make  the  blind  to  see ; 

Witnesser  of  Jesus'  merit, 
Speak  the  word  of  power  to  me — Even  me. 

5  Have  I  long  in  sin  been  sleeping — 
Long  been  slighting,  grieving  thee  ? 

Has  the  world  mv  heart  been  keeping? 
Oh,  forgive  and  rescue  me — Even  me. 

6  Love  of  God,  so  pure  and  changeless ; 
Blood  of  Christ,  so  rich  and  free: 

Grace  of  God,  so  strong  and  boundless. 
Magnify  it  all  in  me— Even  me. 

7  Pass  me  not,  but,  pardon  bringing. 
Bind  my  heart,  O  Lord,  to  thee ; 

Whilst  the  streams  of  life  are  springing. 
Blessing  others,  oh,  bless  me — Even  me. 

Brought  into  being  by  the  news  of  a  great 
revival  in  Ireland  in  1 860-61,  this  hymn  has 
always  been  connected  with  seasons  of  reli- 
gious awakening.  Its  author,  Mrs.  Elizabeth 
Codner,  published  it  as  a  leaflet  in  1861,  and 
it  has  been  in  constant  use  ever  since.  She  is 
the  wife  of  a  clergyman  of  Islington,  London, 
and  has  been  identified  with  the  Mildmay 
Mission  in  that  city  for  a  number  of  years.  It 


272 


THE   gospel: — ATONEMENT    ACCEPTED. 


is  known  that  she  has  publishjed  two  volumes 
—  The  Bible  in  the  Kitchen,  and  The  Mission- 
ary Ship ;  but  very  few  facts  concerning  her 
personal  history  can  be  obtained.  Regarding 
the  poem  itself,  its  author  says  that  it  was 
written  for  the  benefit  of  a  few  of  her  young 
friends  who  had  been  deeply  interested  in  the 
account  of  a  great  revival.  She  says :  "  I 
longed  to  press  upon  them  an  earnest  indi- 
vidual appeal.  Without  effort  words  seemed 
to  be  given  me,  and  they  took  the  form  of  a 
hymn.  I  had  no  thought  of  sending  !t  beyond 
the  limit  of  my  own  circle ;  but,  passing  it  on 
to  one  and  another,  it  became  a  word  of  power, 
and  I  then  published  it." 


REV.   ISAAC  WILLIAMS. 


€29  ' '  God  be  merciful. ' ' 

Lord,  in  this  thy  mercy's  day, 

Ere  from  us  it  pass  away, 

On  our  knees  we  fall  and  pray. 

2  Holy  Jesus,  grant  us  tears. 

Fill  us  with  heart-searching  fears, 
Ere  the  hour  of  doom  appears. 

3  Lord,  on  us  thy  Spirit  pour, 
Kneeling  lowly  at  the  door, 
Ere  it  close  for  evermore. 

4  By  thy  night  of  agony. 
By  thy  .supplicating  crj-. 
By  thy  wilhngness  to  die — 

5  By  thy  tears  of  bitter  woe 
For  Jerusalem  below, 

Let  us  not  thy  love  forego. 


6  Judge  and  Saviour  of  our  race, 

Grant  us,  when  we  see  thy  face, 

.  With  thy  ransomed  ones  a  place. 

In  1844  Rev.  Isaac  Williams,  the  tracta- 
rian  preacher  and  writer,  published  a  volume 
which  he  called  The  Baptistery ;  or,  the 
Way  of  Eternal  Life.  In  this  book  there  is 
one  poem,  consisting  of  a  hundred  and  five 
stanzas  of  three  lines  each,  and  bearing  the 
title,  "  The  Day  of  Days ;  or.  The  Great 
Manifestation."  Of  one  portion  of  this, 
called  "  Image  the  Twentieth,"  our  present 
hymn  is  a  part ;  it  is  entitled,  "  Lent : — a 
Metrical  Litany."  It  is  really  a  good  peni- 
tential prayer  in  musical  dress,  when  we  get 
at  it  under  its  mystical  dress  of  verbiage, 
plain  and  useful  for  Christian  ser\'ice  in  con- 
ference-meeting or  in  the  sanctuary  ;  and  it 
has  had  wide  introduction  into  the  hymnals 
at  home  and  abroad. 


630  Lux  Mundi.  6s,  61. 

Thy  life  was  given  for  me. 
Thy  blood,  O  Lord,  was  shed, 

That  I  might  ransomed  be, 
And  quickened  from  the  dead; 

Thy  life  was  given  for  me  ; 

What  have  I  given  for  thee? 

2  Long  years  were  spent  for  me 
In  weariness  and  woe, 

That  through  eternity 

Thy  glory  I  might  know  ; 
Long  years  were  spent  for  me ; 
Have  I  spent  one  for  thee? 

3  Thy  Father's  home  of  light, 
Thy  rainbow-circled  throne. 

Were  left  for  earthly  night. 

For  wanderings  sad  and  lone ; 
Yea,  all  was  left  for  me; 
Have  I  left  aught  for  thee  ? 

4  Thou,  Lord,  hast  borne  for  me 
More  than  my  tongue  can  tell 

Of  bitterest  agony. 

To  rescue  me  from  hell ; 
Thou  sufferedst  all  for  me ; 
What  have  I  borne  for  thee? 

5  And  thou  hast  brought  to  me 
Down  from  thy  home  above 

Salvation  full  and  free. 
Thy  pardon  and  thy  love  ; 
7s,  3I.  Great  gifts  thou  broughtest  me ; 

What  have  I  brought  to  thee? 

6  Oh,  let  my  life  be  given. 
My  years  for  thee  be  spent ; 

World-fetters  all  be  riven, 

And  joy  with  suffering  blent ; 
Thou  gavest  thyself  for  me, 
I  give  myself  to  thee. 

Miss  Frances  Ridley  Havergal's  composi- 
tion, printed  on  a  leaflet  in  1859,  and  in 
Good  Words,  Februar)%  i860.  The  structure 
of  these  stanzas  has  been  changed  in  the 
English  collections.  As  Miss  Havergal  com- 
posed it  it  began — as  if  the  Saviour  in  person 
were  speaking — "  I  gave  my  life  for  thee." 
No  Christian  congregation  could  sing  back  to 


REPENTANCE    UNTO    LIFE. 


Jesus  Christ  his  own  words  in  so  unseemly  a 
way  as  that. 

The  author  was  at  school  in  Dusseldorf ; 
she  must  have  often  seen  the  Ecce  Homo  pic- 
ture in  the  famous  gallery.  Count  von  Zin- 
zendorf,  the  Moravian,  saw  it  there,  read  its 
motto,  and  was  converted  by  the  sight.  It 
was  a  Christ  crowned,  with  thorns,  and  the 
words  were  set  above  it,  "All  this  have  1  done 
for  thee.  What  doest  thou  for  me  ?"  Miss 
Havergal  surely  would  hear  the  story.  In- 
deed, she  records  that  she  was  moved  by 
such  a  painting  with  such  a  legend.  The 
poem  represents  a  fresh  phase  of  her  experi- 
ence, therefore.  She  becomes  a  true  child  of 
God  under  the  vivid  conception  of  Jesus  dy- 
ing on  the  cross  for  her. 

In  1873  a  little  book,  entitled  All  for  Jesus, 
by  Rev.  J.  T.  Renford,  Newport,  Mon.,  came 
under  Miss  Havergal's  notice,  telling  of  a  full- 
ness of  blessing  beyond  anything  she  had  yet 
attained.  It  met  a  felt  need,  and  soon  she 
herself  could  say,  "  I  have  the  blessing," 
the  Spirit  powerfully  applying  this  word  to 
her  soul :  "  The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  his 
Son,  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin."  From  this 
time  her  life  was  full  of  sunshine ;  some  ex- 
pression of  it  is  found  in  the  beautiful  hymns, 
"  Without  Carefulness,"  and  "  From  Glory 
unto  Glory." 

63  I  The  true  Physician.  ys,  3I. 

Heal  me,  O  my  Saviour,  heal ; 
Heal  me,  as  I  suppliant  kneel ; 
Heal  me,  and  my  pardon  seal. 

2  Fresh  the  wounds  that  sin  hath  made  ; 
Hear  the  prayers  I  oft  have  prayed, 
And  in  mercy  send  me  aid. 

3  Thou  the  true  Physician  art ; 
Thou,  O  Christ,  canst  health  impart, 
Binding  up  the  bleeding  heart. 

4  Other  comforters  are  gone  ; 
Thou  canst  heal,  and  thou  alone. 
Thou  for  all  my  sin  atone. 

Rev.  Godfrey  Thring  published  this  in  his 
Hymns  Congregatio7ial  and  Others,  1866.  It 
is  a  tender  and  useful  hymn  in  times  of  sick- 
ness or  debility.  It  fits  discourses  upon  Christ 
as  a  Physician  of  Souls :  Jeremiah  8:22: 
"  Is  there  no  balm  in  Gilead ;  is  there  no 
physician  there  ?  Why  then  is  not  the  health 
of  the  daughter  of  my  people  recovered .?" 
One  of  the  brightest  predictions  of  the  Loi-d 
Jesus  Christ  is  found  in  the  promise  that 
"  the  Sun  of  righteousness  shall  arise  with 
healing  in  his  wings."  Malachi  4:2.  The 
Israelites  have  a  saying  which  has  almost 
become  a  proverb :  "  As  the  sun  arises,  in- 
firmities decrease."  One  of  the  most  ancient 
names  of  God  recorded  in  tke  Bible  is  Jeho- 


vah-ropht ;  and  this  is  said  to  mean  in  Eng- 
lish words,  "  1  am  the  Lord  thaj  healeth  thee." 
Exodus  1 5  :  26.  The  best  things  in  all  this 
world  for  health  and  vigor,  for  exhilaration 
and  comfort,  are  plenty  of  warm  bright  sun- 
shine and  the  refreshment  of  clear  pure  air  driv- 
ing away  fog.  Flowers  open  when  the  day- 
star  comes  up  over  the  hills.  Invalids  wake 
with  new  hope  when  the  night  is  gone  and  the 
birds  begin  their  matins.  It  was  Simon  Peter, 
an  old  fisherman  on  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  who 
understood  very  well  what  he  was  talking 
about  when  he  said  :  "  We  have  also  a  more 
sure  word  of  prophecy;  whereunto  ye  do 
well  that  ye  take  heed,  as  unto  a  light  that 
shineth  in  a  dark  place,  until  the  day  dawn, 
and  the  day-star  arise  in  your  hearts."  Every 
morning,  all  over  Judsea,  even  to  this  time, 
there  blows  a  sweet  fresh  wind  at  sunrise, 
which  the  natives  call  "  the  doctor ;"  for  it  pu- 
rifies the  infected  air  and  clears  away  the 
mists  ;  and  then  from  the  tops  of  the  hills,  oh, 
how  far  away  one  sees  !  It  makes  one  think 
of  the  prophet's  promise :  "  Thine  eyes  shall 
see  the  King  in  his  beauty  :  they  shall  behold 
the  land  that  is  very  far  off." 

632  "  Come  and  welcome."  7s,  61. 

From  the  cross  uplifted  high, 
Where  the  Saviour  deigns  to  die, 
What  melodious  sounds  we  hear, 
Bursting  on  the  ravished  ear! — 
"  Love's  redeeming  work  is  done — 
Come  and  welcome,  sinner,  come ! 

2  "Spread  for  thee,  the  festal  board 
See  with  richest  bounty  stored  ; 
To  thy  Father's  bosom  pressed, 
Thou  shalt  be  a  child  confessed. 
Never  from  his  house  to  roam  ; 
Come  and  welcome,  sinner,  come! 

3  "  Soon  the  days  of  life  shall  end— 
Lo,  I  come — your  Saviour,  Friend ! 
Safe  your  spirit  to  convey 

To  the  realms  of  endless  day. 

Up  to  my  eternal  home — 

Come  and  welcome,  sinner,  come!" 

This  hymn  by  Rev.  Thomas  Haweis  was 
first  published  in  his  Carmina  Christo,  1792, 
and  contained  an  additional  stanza.  Its  re- 
frain suggests  the  fullness  of  Christ's  atoning 
sacrifice,  which  was  great  enough  to  include 
all  mankind,  although  it  was  the  death  of 
only  one  person.  It  is  a  significant  fact  that 
none  among  all  the  disciples  of  our  Lord, 
not  one  of  all  the  adherents  who  followed 
him,  was  permitted  to  die  with  him.  He  was 
condemned  as  a  rebel ;  yet  not  a  single  man 
or  woman  who  succored  him  or  sustained 
him  in  that  so-called  insurrection  suffered  for 
it.  A  few  of  his  friends  talked  about  it ;  one 
of  them  said  outright  on  a  conspicuous  occa- 
sion, "  Let  us  go  and  die  with  him  ;"  but  none 


274 


THE   GOSPEL  : — ATON'EMENT    ACCEPTED. 


of  them  ever  did.  The  meaning  of  this  is 
ver>'  plain.  It.  was  an  infinitely  wise  precau- 
tion against  mistake.  It  would,  without  a 
doubt,  have  misled  some  feeble  minds,  if  by 
any  accidental  confusion  another  name  had 
been  coupled  with  his  in  the  dying  hour  on 
the  cross.  It  was  just  as  well  that  all  those 
disciples  forsook  him  and  fled.  One  Priest, 
one  Lamb,  was  all  that  was  needed. 


DR.   GEORGE  DUFFIELD,   JR. 

633  "  Only  thee."  7s,  61. 

Blessed  Saviour !  thee  I  love 

All  my  other  joys  above; 

All  my  hopes  in  thee  abide, 

Thou  my  hope,  and  naught  beside ; 

Ever  let  my  glory  be, 

Only,  only,  only  thee. 

2  Once  ag^in  beside  the  cross. 
All  my  gain  I  count  but  loss  ; 
Earthly  pleasures  fade  away — 
Clouds  they  are  that  hide  my  day ; 
Hence,  vain  shadows  !  let  me  see 
Jesus  crucified  for  me. 

3  Blessfed  Saviour,  thine  am  I, 
Thine  to  live,  and  thine  to  die ; 
Height,  or  depth,  or  earthly  power 
Ne'er  shall  hide  my  Saviour  more ; 
Ever  shall  my  glory  be 

Only,  only,  only  thee. 

This  hymn  was  wTitten  by  Rev.  George 
Duffield,  Jr.,  D.  D.,  the  son  of  Rev.  George 
Duffield,  D.  D.,  for  so  many  useful  years  a 


pastor  in  Detroit,  Mich.,  and  the  father  of 
Rev.  Samuel  W.  Dufifield,  author  of  English 
Hymns.  This  family  seems  likely  to  become 
as  famous  in  hymnology  as  the  Stennett  fam- 
ily of  old.  The  hymn  now  before  us  was 
contributed  to  the  Temple  Melodies,  issued 
by  Rev.  D.  E.  Jones  in  1851.  Dr.  Duffield, 
the  author  of  it,  lived  a  varied,  forceful,  and 
useful  life.  He  was  born  at  Carlisle,  Pa., 
September  12,  181 8,  graduated  at  Yale  Col- 
lege, and  studied  for  the  ministry  in  Union 
Theological  Seminar^',  New  York.  He  began 
his  ministrations  as  a  pastor  in  Brooklyn, 
N.  Y.,  1840,  and  was  there  for  seven  years; 
then  he  removed  to  the  village  of  Bloomfield, 
N.  J.,  and  at  that  point  the  history'  of  the  fam- 
ily connection  with  that  town  commences. 
Three  generations  in  turn  have  aided  in  ma- 
king the  parishes  conspicuous.  After  a  while. 
Dr.  Duffield  took  up  other  work  elsewhere,  at 
Philadelphia,  Adrian,  Mich.,  Galesburg,  111., 
and  in  1869  was  pastor  at  Ann  Arbor,  Mich. 
There  he  remained  till  the  infirmities  of  age 
warned  him  to  retire  from  so  serious  a  field 
of  labor.  While  his  son,  Samuel  W.  Duffield, 
was  in  the  pastorate  in  Bloomfield,  the  father 
returned  to  his  old  home,  and  the  beautiful 
years  began  in  which  the  father  and  son 
walked  together  in  Christian  faith  and  love 
and  hope.  The  reverence  on  the  one  side  and 
the  pride  upon  the  other  M^ere  worthy  of  the 
Land  of  Beulah  in  which  the  old  man  waited 
for  his  summons  to  go  over  the  river.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  the  son  went  swiftly  across 
first ;  the  father  followed  him  fourteen  months 
after.  He  died  in  Bloomfield,  July  6,  1888, 
and  was  borne  away  to  be  buried  in  Detroit  in 
the  family  cemetery. 

634  "I am  thine."  7s,  61. 

Jesus,  Master,  whose  I  am. 

Purchased  thine  alone  to  be. 
By  thy  blood,  O  spotless  Lamb, 

Shed  so  willingly  for  me ; 
Let  my  heart  be  all  thine  own. 
Let  me  live  to  thee  alone. 

2  Other  lords  have  long  held  sway ; 
Now  thy  name  alone  to  bear. 

Thy  dear  voice  alone  obey. 

Is  my  daily,  hourly  praver. 
Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee? 
Nothing  else  my  joy  can  be. 

3  Jesus,  Master,  I  am  thine; 
Keep  me  faithful,  keep  me  near; 

Let  thy  presence  in  me  shine 

All  my  homeward  way  to  cheer, 
JesUs,  at  thy  feet  I  fall. 
Oh,  be  thou  my  All  in  all. 

Miss  Frances  Ridley  Havergal  wrote  this 
h^Tnn  for  her  nephew,  J.  H.  Shaw,  in  Decem- 
ber, 1865,  and  it  was  printed  as  a  leaflet  for 
distribution.      She  never  included  it   in  her 


REPENTANCE    UNTO    LIFE. 


275 


published  hymnals  for  promiscuous  singing, 
but  it  appears  in  her  Ministry  of  Song,  1 869. 
It  was  entitled,  "  Servant  of  Christ,"  and  was 
meant  to  be  suitable  for  public  or  private  con- 
secration of  one's  self  to  God.  Reference  is 
made  to  Paul's  words  in  Acts  27  :  23 :  "  Whose 
1  am,  and  whom  I  serve." 

635  "Hearer  of  prayer."  7s,  61. 

O  THOU  God  who  hearest  prayer 
Every  hour  and  everywhere ! 
For  his  sake,  whose  blood  I  plead, 
Hear  me  in  my  hour  of  need: 
Only  hide  not  now  thy  face, 
God  of  all-sufficient  grace ! 

2  Leave  me  not,  my  strength,  my  trust; 
Oh,  remember  I  am  dust ; 

Leave  me  not  again  to  stray; 
Leave  me  not  the  tempter's  prey : 
Fix  my  heart  on  things  above; 
Make  me  happy  in  thy  love. 

3  Hear  and  save  me,  gracious  Lord ! 
For  my  trust  is  in  thy  word ; 
Wash  me  from  the  stain  of  sin, 
That  thy  peace  may  rule  within  : 
May  I  know  myself  thy  child. 
Ransomed,  pardoned,  reconciled. 

We  have  to  thank  what  men  would  call  an 
accident  for  this  hymn,  dated  1820,  and  print- 
ed in  the  Star  in  the  East,  1824.  Josiah 
Conder  fell  fromx  his  horse  in  riding,  and  was 
compelled  to  take  his  bed  for  a  serious  sea- 
son. He  was  not  only  suffering  from  pain, 
but  there  was  peril  in  his  prospect.  He  feared 
becoming  a  permanent  cripple.  And  just 
then  his  affairs  were  in  a  condition  that  re- 
quired his  utmost  activity  of  effort  and  vig- 
ilance in  watching.  The  confinement  sum- 
moned all  his  fortitude  and  led  him  to  con- 
stant supplication.  One  who  reads  the  wrest- 
ling and  plaintive  lines  now  seems  to  see  the 
brave-hearted  preacher  at  his  best,  bold,  ear- 
nest, importunate.  And  yet  Conder  is  the 
man  who  has  been  quoted  as  insisting  that 
histories  of  sacred  songs  have  little  or  no 
value  in  awaking  interest :  "  On  reading  a 
hymn  nobody  inquires  why  it  was  written,  or 
attributes  the  feelings  it  depicts  to  the  poet's 
actual,  or,  at  any  rate,  present,  experience." 
His  own  hymn  proves  how  much  he  was  mis- 
taken. 

636  Look  and  live.  ^s,  61. 

Surely  Christ  thy  griefs  hath  borne, 
Weeping  soul,  no  longer  mourn : 
View  him  bleeding  on  the  tree. 
Pouring  out  his  life  for  thee: 
There  thy  every  sin  he  bore ; 
Weeping  soul,  lament  no  more. 

2  Weary  sinner,  keep  thine  eyes 

On  the  atoning  sacrifice : 

There  the  incarnate  Deity 

Numbered  with  transgressors  see; 

There  his  Father's  absence  mourns. 

Nailed,  and  bruised,  and  crowned  with  thorns. 


3  Cast  thy  guilty  soul  on  him, 
Find  him  mighty  to  redeem  ; 
At  his  feet  thy  burden  lay, 
Look  thy  doubts  and  cares  away ; 
Now  by  faith  the  Son  embrace. 
Plead  his  promise,  trust  his  grace. 


AUGUSTUS  MONTAGUE  TOPLADY. 

Everything  that  was  ever  written  by  the 
man  who  composed  what  is  now  admitted  to 
be  the  first  hymn  of  the  first  rank  in  our  lan- 
guage is  of  serious  interest.  Rev.  Augustus 
Montague  Toplady  wrote  "  Rock  of  Ages," 
and  he  also  wrote  the  excellent  hymn  in  the 
same  meter  now  before  us.  He  was  born  at 
Farnham,  in  Surrey,  England,  November  4, 
1740.  His  father,  Major  Richard  Toplady, 
died  at  the  siege  of  Carthagena,  while  the 
child  was  yet  an  infant.  But  his  mother 
seems  to  have  been  a  good  and  thrifty  woman 
of  character  and  force.  The  young  lad  grew 
up  bright  and  promising,  and  we  soon  hear 
of  his  conversion.  He  attended  a  meeting  at 
Codymain,  Ireland,  an  assemblage  held  in  a 
barn  ;  a  layman  named  James  Morris  preached 
the  sermon  from  the  text  he  found  in  Ephe- 
sians  2:13.  Toplady,  some  years  subsequent 
to  this,  wrote  an  account  of  the  incident. 
"  By  the  grace  of  God,"  says  he,  "  under  the 
ministry  of  that  dear  messenger  and  under 
that  sermon,  I  was,  I  trust,  brought  nigh  by 
the  blood  of  Christ,  in  August,  1756.  Strange 
that  I,  who  had  so  long  sat  under  the  means 


276 


THE   gospel: — ATONEMENT    ACCEPTED. 


of  grace  in  England,  should  be  brought  near 
to  God  in  an  obscure  part  of  Ireland,  amidst 
a  handful  of  God's  people,  met  together  in  a 
barn,  and  under  the  ministry  of  one  who 
could  hardly  spell  his  name.  The  excellency 
of  such  power  must  be  of  God,  and  cannot  be 
of  man." 

The  youth  of  the  poet  passed  tamely.  He 
is  reported  to  have  composed  some  fugitive 
poems  when  he  was  still  in  his  teens,  and 
these  were  printed  at  Dublin  in  Poems  on 
Sacred  Subjects,  1759.  Among  them  the  one 
here  given  is  found.  Deciding  to  enter  the 
ministry,  he  received  orders  in  the  Church  of 
England,  June  6,  1762.  Soon  after  this  he 
became  vicar  of  Broadhembury,  Devonshire. 
There  are  different  accounts  of  his  work  as  a 
preacher  of  the  gospel.  Some  say  he  was 
harsh  and  bigoted,  and  even  rough  to  scurril- 
ity in  his  attacks  upon  the  Wesleys.  Others 
insist  that  his  heart  was  warm  and  his  zeal 
was  unquenchable.  His  health  was  never  ro- 
bust;  he  died  in  London,  August  11,  1778, 
and  was  buried  beneath  the  gallery  opposite 
the  pulpit  in  Tottenham  Court  Chapel. 

637  "  Chief  of  sinners."  73,6!. 

Chief  of  sinners  though  I  be, 
Jesus  shed  his  blood  for  me ; 
Died  that  I  might  hve  on  high, 
Died  that  I  might  never  die; 
As  the  branch  is  to  the  vine, 

1  am  his  and  he  is  mine. 

2  Oh,  the  height  of  Jesus'  love  ! 
Higher  than  the  heavens  above. 
Deeper  than  the  depths  of  sea. 
Lasting  as  eternity ; 

Love  that  found  me — wondrous  thought ! — 
Found  me  when  I  sought  him  not  I 

3  Chief  of  sinners  though  I  be, 
Christ  is  all  in  all  to  nie; 
AH  my  wants  to  him  are  known, 
All  my  sorrows  are  his  own ; 
Safe  with  him  from  earthly  strife. 
He  sustains  my  hidden  life. 

The  author  of  the  hymn  before  us,  William 
McComb,  was  a  bookseller  in  Belfast  for  many 
years.  He  was  born  in  Coleraine,  County  Lon- 
donderry, Ireland,  in  1793.  We  have  no  further 
information  concerning  him,  save  that  he  re- 
tired from  business  in  1867,  and  that  three 
years  previous  thereto  his  poetical  works  were 
collected  and  issued  in  one  large  volume. 


638  Ingratitude  lamented. 

O  Jesus  Christ,  if  sin  there  be. 

In  all  our  former  years, 
That  wrings  the  soul  with  agony, 

And  chokes  the  heart  with  tears ; 
It  is  the  deep  ingratitude 

Which  we  to  thee  have  shown. 
Who  didst  for  us  in  tears  and  blood 

Upon  the  cross  atone. 

2  Alas,  how  with  our  actions  all 
Has  this  defect  entwined  ; 

And  poisoned  with  its  bitter  gall 
The  spirit,  heart,  and  mind  ! 


Alas,  through  this,  how  many  gems 

Have  we  not  cast  awav 
That  might  have  formed  our  diadems 

In  everlasting  day  ! 

3  Yet  though  the  time  be  past  and  gone; 

Though  little  more  remains ; 
Though  naught  is  all  that  can  be  done, 

Ev'n  with  our  utmost  pains : 
Still,  Jesus,  in  thy  grace  we  try 

To  do  what  in  us  lies  ; 
For  never  did  thy  loving  eye 

The  contrite  heart  despise. 

This  hymn  is  found  in  the  volume  of 
Hymns  and  Poems  published  in  1873  by 
Rev.  Edward  Caswall.  It  bears  the  title 
"  Ingratitude,"  and  has  six  four-line  stanzas. 
It  had  been  published  before  in  his  Masque 
of  Mary,  1851.  It  would  be  easy  to  say  the 
author  succeeds  better  as  a  translator  than  as 
a  composer  of  original  lyrics  for  singing. 
But  we  venture  to  raise  the  question  whether 
any  one  can  ever  hope  to  be  supremely  poeti- 
cal when  he  is  unfortunate  enough  to  select  a 
special  sin,  or  possibly  a  notable  immorality, 
for  his  theme.  There  is  likewise  something 
of  mysticism  in  the  manner  of  this  author, 
perceptible  particularly  in  his  work  done  after 
the  death  of  his  amiable  wife  by  cholera  in 
1849.  She  had  been  received  with  him  into 
the  Roman  Church,  and  he  fell,  after  his 
irreparable  loss  into  deep  despondency ;  as 
was  natural  in  the  circumstances,  he  be- 
came more  and  more  intensely  a  devotee 
under  the  priestly  system  to  which  he  had 
committed  himself.  The  hymn  and  tune 
(the  latter  bearing  his  name)  are  quite  popu- 
lar in  Great  Britain ;  but  some  would  be 
likely  to  think  he  did  better  work  else- 
where. 


639  Prayer  for  mercy.  CM.  D. 

O  Lord,  turn  not  thy  face  away 

From  them  that  lowly  lie. 
Lamenting  sore  their  sinful  life 

With  tears  and  bitter  cry ; 
^  Thy  mercy-gates  are  open  wide 

To  them  that  mourn  their  sin  ; 
Oh,  shut  them  not  against  us,  Lord, 

But  let  us  enter  in. 

2  We  need  not  to  confess  our  fault. 
For  surely  thou  canst  tell ; 

What  we  have  done,  and  what  we  are, 

Thou  knovvest  ven,-  well ; 
Wherefore,  to  beg  and  to  entreat. 

With  tears  we  come  to  thee, 
C.  M.  D.  As  children  that  have  done  amiss 

Fall  at  their  father's  knee. 

3  And  need  we  then,  O  Lord,  repeat 
The  blessing  which  we  crave, 

When  thou  dost  know,  before  we  speak, 
The  thing  that  we  would  have? 

Mercy,  O  Lord,  mercy  we  ask  ; 
This  is  the  total  sum  ; 

For  mercy,  Lord,  is  all  our  prayer ; 
Oh,  let  thy  mercy  come! 

This  hymn,  which  is  known  as  "  The  Lam- 
entation of  a  Sinner,"  appeared  first  in  Stern- 


REPENTANCE   UNTO    LIFE. 


J77 


hold  and  Hopkins,  1560-61,  with  no  signature 
attached  to  it.  In  tne  edition  of  1565  it  is 
ascribed  to  John  Marckant,  of  whom  almost 
nothing  is  known,  except  that  he  was  incum- 
bent of  Clacton  Magna  in  1559,  and  of  Shop- 
land  from  1 563-8.  He  wrote  but  few  poems 
apparently,  and  this  is  the  only  one  in  com- 
mon use.  It  has  been  considerably  altered  in 
the  hymnals  of  various  churches,  the  version 
here  given  being  the  one  made  by  Bishop 
Heber. 

640  "Return."  CM. 

O  THOU,  whose  tender  mercy  hears 

Contrition's  humble  si^h ; 
Whose  hand  indulgent  wipes  the  tears 

From  sorrow's  weeping  eye  ; 

2  See,  Lord,  before  thy  throne  of  grace, 
A  wretched  wanderer  mourn  ; 

Hast  thou  not  bid  me  seek  thy  face? 
Hast  thou  not  said — "  Return  "  ? 

3  And  shall  my  guilty  fears  prevail 
To  drive  me  from  thy  feet  ? 

OIk  let  not  this  dear  refuge  fail, 
This  only  safe  retreat ! 

4  Oh.  shine  on  this  benighted  heart. 
With  beams  of  mercy  shine  ! 

And  let  thy  healing  voice  impart 
The  sense  of  joy  divine. 

The  memories  of  a  thousand  revivals  are  in 
this  dear  old  hymn  of  the  past.  Sometimes 
with  "  Balerma  "  for  a  time,  more  often  with 
"  Avon,"  it  has  filled  the  heart  and  swayed 
the  will  of  the  penitent  sinner  and  the  return- 
ing prodigal  alike.  It  is  found  among  the 
Poems  by  Theodosia,  1760,  written  by  Miss 
Anne  Steele.  It  has  there  six  stanzas,  and  is 
entitled,  "  Absence  from  God." 

641  "Remember  Me."  CM. 

O  THOU,  from  whom  all  goodness  flows, 

I  lift  my  soul  to  thee : 
In  all  my  sorrows,  conflicts,  woes, 

0  Lord,  remember  me ! 

2  When  on  my  aching,  burdened  heart 
My  sins  lie  heavily, 

Thy  pardon  grant,  new  peace  impart ; 
Thus,  Lord,  remember  me ! 

3  When  trials  sore  obstruct  my  way, 
And  ills  I  caimot  flee, 

Oh,  let  my  strength  be  as  my  day — 
Dear  Lord,  remember  me  ! 

4  When  in  the  solemn  hour  of  death 

1  wait  thy  just  decree. 

Be  this  the  prayer  of  my  last  breath  : 
Now,  Lord,  remember  me! 

Rev.  Thomas  Haweis,  the  preacher  and 
physician,  published  in  1792  his  Carniina 
Christo ;  or.  Hymns  to  the  Saviour ;  de- 
signed for  the  Use  and  Comfort  of  Those 
who  worship  the  Lamb  that  was  slain.  In 
this  small  volume,  containing  only  a  hundred 
and  thirty-nine  pieces,  this  one  is  found.  It 
has  six  stanzas,  and  with  it  has  been  associ- 


ated a  reference  to  Nehemiah  13  :3i  :  "Re- 
member me,  O  my  God,  for  good."  The 
popularity  of  this  song  of  praise  and  prayer 
illustrates  once  more  the  fondness  of  the 
American  mind  for  the  refrain  in  public  wor- 
ship :  "  O  Lord,  remember  me  !" 

642  Deep  Penitence.  C.  M. 

Prostrate,  dear  Jesus,  at  thy  feet, 

.\  guilty  rebel  lies ; 
And  upwards,  to  thy  mercy-seat, 

Presumes  to  lift  his  eyes. 

2  Let  not  thy  justice  frown  me  hence; 
Oh,  stay  the  vengeful  storm  ; 

Forbid  it  that  Omnipotence 
Should  crush  a  feeole  worm. 

3  If  tears  of  sorrow  could  suffice 
To  pay  the  debt  I  owe, 

Tears  should,  from  both  my  weeping  eyes, 
In  ceaseless  currents  flow. 

4  But  no  such  sacrifice  I  plead 
To  expiate  my  guilt ; 

No  tears,  but  those  which  thou  hast  shed — 
No  blood,  but  thou  hast  spilt. 

5  Think  of  thy  sorrows,  dearest  Lord  I 
And  all  my  sins  forgive, 

Then  justice  will  approve  the  word 
That  bids  the  sinner  live. 

This  hymn  by  Rev.  Dr.  Samuel  Stennett 
was  first  published  in  the  Baptist  Selection, 
1787,  which  was  compiled  by  Dr.  Rippon,  a 
friend  of  the  author.  The  spirit  of  the  poem 
is  one  of  humble  penitence  and  avowal  of  guilt 
towards  God.  Sometimes  in  their  confession 
men  are  not  sincere.  We  profess  all  horror 
at  wickedness  ;  but  we  seem  to  mean  wicked- 
ness in  general,  not  anything  we  have'  really 
done  in  particular  or  in  person.  It  is  sin  we 
deplore,  not  sins.  Our  words  of  self-abase- 
ment must  not  be  pressed  nor  misunderstood. 
In  the  old  legend  it  was  no  less  than  a  cardi- 
nal that  once  went  to  confession.  "  Oh,  I  am 
the  very  chief  of  sinners,"  he  murmured  in  the 
ear  of  the  priest.  "  Too  true,  too  true ;  God 
have  mercy,"  were  the  words  that  came  back 
through  the  grating.  "  Surely  I  have  been 
guilty  of  every  kind  of  wrong,"  he  continued. 
"  Alas,  my  son,  it  is  a  solemn  fact — have 
mercy  upon  him,  O  Lord."  Thinking  that 
great  enormities  admitted  would  force  at  least 
a  deprecation,  he  went  on  :  "I  have  indulged 
in  pride,  malice,  revenge,  and  ambition." 
This  he  sighed  in  mournful  tones;  and  in 
tones  as  mournful  the  honest  monk  answered  : 
"  Yes,  alas,  some  of  this  I  had  heard  of  be- 
fore ;  the  Lord  have  mercy."  The  exaspera- 
ted cardinal  could  stand  it  no  longer.  "  Why, 
you  fool,"  he  burst  out  sharply,  "do  you 
imagine  I  mean  all  this  to  the  letter .''"  "Alas, 
alas,  the  good  Lord  have  mercy,"  said  the 
pitiful  priest ;  "  for  it  seems  his  eminence  is  a 
hypocrite  likewise !" 


2/8 


THE  GOSPEL  : — ATONEMENT    ACCEPTED. 


643  Psalms^-  L.  M. 

A  BROKEN  heart,  my  God,  my  King, 
Is  all  the  sacrifice  I  bring; 
The  God  of  grace  will  ne'er  despise 
A  broken  heart  for  sacrifice. 

2  My  soul  lies  humbled  in  the  dust, 
And  owns  thy  dreadful  sentence  just ; 
Look  down,  O  Lord,  with  pitying  eye. 
And  save  the  soul  condemned  to  die. 

3  Then  will  I  teach  the  world  thy  ways ; 
Sinners  shall  learn  thy  sovereign  grace; 
I  '11  lead  them  to  my  Saviour's  blood. 
And  they  shall  praise  a  pardoning  God. 

4  Oh,  may  thy  love  inspire  my  tongue ! 
Salvation  shall  be  all  my  song; 

And  all  my  powers  shall  join  to  bless 

The  Lord,  my  Strength  and  Righteousness. 

This  is  a  portion  of  one  of  Rev.  Dr.  Isaac 
Watts'  paraphrases  of  the  fifty-first  Psalm, 
and  was  published  in  his  Psalms  of  David, 
1 7 19.  It  consisted  originally  of  eight  stanzas, 
entitled  "  The  backslider  restored  ;  or  Repent- 
ance, and  Faith  in  the  Blood  of  Christ." 
This  celebrated  Psalm  has  inspired  some  of 
the  noblest  and  most  impressive  music  ever 
heard  on  this  earth,  the  "  Miserere"  which  is 
sung  with  such  solemn  ceremonies  in  St. 
Peter's  at  Rome  in  Holy  Week.  It  has  al- 
ways been  acknowledged  to  be  a  full  and 
perfect  expression  of  deep  contrition,  which 
says  with  David  in  an  unmistakable  confes- 
sion :  "Against  thee,  thee  only,  have  I  sinned, 
and  done  this  evil  in  thy  sight ;  that  thou 
mightest  be  justified  when  thou  speakest,  and 
be  clear  when  thou  judgest." 

It  will  ser\-e  our  purpose  exactly  to  trace 
out  this  experience  of  a  royal  sinner,  whose 
sin  was  so  conspicuous,  and  whose  repent- 
ance was  so  much  to  our  edification. 
"Against  thee,  thee  only,  have  I  sinned." 
Now  some  would  say,  perhaps  carelessly, 
here  was  an  unauthorized  discrimination ; 
David  had  sinned  against  Uriah,  and  against 
Bathsheba,  and  against  his  own  manhood, 
and  against  that  whole  realm  he  ruled,  by 
complicated  crimes  of  murder,  falsehood, 
adulter}\  and  impious  presumption.  Not 
against  God,  and  against  God  "  only,"  had  he 
done  his  great  wrong.  But  true  penitence 
erects  a  true  standard ;  it  is  intelligent  as 
well  as  self-abasing.  David  knew  whom  he 
had  offended.  Through  and  through  the 
concentric  circles  of  his  lofty  responsibility 
his  conscience  led  the  way  to  the  innermost 
one  of  all.  He  had  broken  God's  law.  Full 
before  the  undefiled  glory  of  a  holy  Jehovah, 
he  seemed  quite  to  forget,  for  the  time  being, 
everything  else  except  what  God  must  think 
of  him.  "  Behold,  thou  desirest  truth  in  the 
inward  parts  ;  and  in  the  hidden  part  thou 
shalt  make  me  to  know  wisdom," 


644  "  Thou  hast  died."  L.  M. 

Jesl's,  the  sinner's  Friend,  to  thee. 
Lost  and  undone,  for  aid  I  flee; 
VVear>-  of  earth,  myself,  and  sin, 
Open  thine  arms  and  take  me  in. 

2  At  last  I  own  it  cannot  be 
That  I  should  fit  myself  for  thee : 
Here,  then,  to  thee  I  all  resign  ; 
Thine  is  the  work,  and  only  thine. 

3  What  can  I  say  thy  grace  to  move  ? 
Lord,  I  am  sin — but  thou  art  love: 

I  give  up  every  plea  beside. 

Lord,  I  am  lost— but  thou  hast  died  ! 

The  Hymns  and  Sacred  Poems  by  Rev. 
Charles  Wesley,  published  in  1739,  contain 
this  piece,  which  originally  had  thirteen  stan- 
zas. It  was  written  with  a  forcibleness  of 
expression  which  might  seem  shocking  to 
some  ears  at  the  present  time.  Yet  the  cen- 
tral idea,  the  absolute  unworthiness  and  sin- 
fulness of  man,  is  no  less  vital  a  truth  now 
than  it  was  in  Wesley's  day.  There  is  some- 
thing unutterably  pathetic  and  solemn  in  the 
sense  of  admitted  ownership  in  wrong  I 
When  any  human  being  settles  back  on  these 
fixed  conclusions,  and  in  his  deepest  reserves 
confesses  that  a  great  guilt  claims  him  as  its 
master ;  when,  with  no  exculpation  of  self 
and  no  inculpation  of  others,  a  man  simply 
says,  "  This  is  mine,  unshared,  solitary,  direct 
violation  of  God's  law,"  he  feels  he  must  go 
farther  than  the  mere  act ;  he  must  admit 
greater  trouble  still  ;  he  must  say  not  only, 
"  I  have  sinned,"  but  also,  "  I  am  a  sinner;" 
then  he  will  crj  out  like  David  again :  "  Be- 
hold, I  was  shapen  in  iniquity ;  and  in  sin  did 
my  mother  conceive  me.  Behold,  thou  de- 
sirest truth  in  the  inward  parts :  and  in  the 
hidden  part  thou  shalt  make  me  to  know  wis- 
dom. Purge  me  with  hyssop,  and  I  shall  be 
clean :  wash  me,  and  I  shall  be  whiter  than 


645  "Look  unto  me."  L.  M. 

See  a  poor  sinner,  dearest  Lord, 
Whose  soul,  encouraged  by  thy  word. 
At  mercy's  footstool  would  remain, 
And  then  would  look — and  look  again. 

2  Ah !  bring  a  wretched  wanderer  home, 
Now  to  thy  footstool  let  me  come. 

And  tell  tliee  all  my  grief  and  pain. 
And  wait  and  look— and  look  again  ! 

3  Take  courage,  then,  my  trembling  soul ; 
One  look  from  Christ  will  make  thee  whole: 
Trust  thou  in  him,  't  is  not  in  vain, 

But  wait  and  look — and  look  again ! 

Many  hymns  by  the  Rev.  Samuel  Medley 
are  still  in  use,  although  they  were  written  a 
century  ago,  and  generally  appeared  first  in 
leaflets  or  magazines.  They  owe  much  of  their 
effectiveness  to  his  habit  of  employing  a  re- 
frain in  the  last  line  of  each  verse,  as  in  the 


REPENTANCE   UNTO    LIFE. 


279 


hymn  here  quoted.  This  is  a  plea  for  courage 
on  the  part  of  the  sinner,  that  he  should  seek 
boldly  the  throne  of  grace,  remembering  that 
Christ  is  pledged  to  help  him  in  his  desperate 
need.  "  No  lukewarm  seeker,"  said  John 
Randolph  of  Roanoke,  "  ever  became  a  real 
Christian  ;  for  from  the  days  of  John  the  Bap- 
tist until  now  '  the  kingdom  of  heaven  suffer- 
eth  violence,  and  the  violent  take  it  by  force ;' 
a  text  which  I  read  five  hundred  times  before 
I  had  even  the  slightest  conception  of  its  ap- 
plication." 


snow,"  and  showed  them  how  they  could  be 
made  clean.  With  one  heart  and  voice  the 
people  cried  out  around  the  pulpit,  "  Oh,  that 
is  what  we  have  been  longing  to  know  this 
many  a  day  !"  Then  began  the  glorious  work 
of  divine  grace,  which  soon  filled  the  cold  re- 
gions of  the  north  with  the  warmth  and  love- 
light  of  the  Gospel  and  brought  glory  to 
God's  name. 

647 


646  Philippians  3  :  7-10.  L.  M. 

No  MORE,  my  God  !    I  boast  no  more, 
Of  all  the  duties  I  have  done; 

1  quit  the  hopes  I  held  before, 
To  trust  the  merits  of  thy  Son. 

2  Now  for  the  love  I  bear  his  name, 
What  was  my  gain,  I  count  but  loss ; 

My  former  pride  I  call  my  shame, 
And  nail  my  glory  to  his  cross. 

3  Yes — and  I  must  and  will  esteem 
All  things  but  loss  for  Jesus'  sake: 

Oh,  may  my  soul  be  found  in  him. 
And  of  his  righteousness  partake. 

4  The  best  obedience  of  my  hands 
Dares  not  appear  before  thy  throne; 

But  faith  can  answer  thy  demands 
By  pleading  what  my  Lord  has  done. 

This  poem  by  Rev.  Dr.  Isaac  Watts  first 
appeared  in  his  Hymns  and  Spiritual  Songs, 
1707-9,  and  has  remained  entirely  unchanged, 
being  exceedingly  felicitous  in  expression.  It 
is  an  entire  renunciation  of  all  claims  to  right- 
eousness, except  as  the  result  of  Christ's  atone- 
ment. 

For  many  years  the  Moravian  missionaries 
labored  among  the  inhabitants  of  Greenland 
vi^ith  no  apparent  success.  One  preacher  came 
and  tried  to  prove  to  his  simple-minded  hear- 
ers that  there  must  be  a  Supreme  Being  called 
God.  They  laughed  at  him  for  attempting  to 
teach  them  what  they  knew  as  well  as  he. 
Then  came  another,  urging  morality,  insisting 
that  they  should  leave  off  drunkenness,  and 
cease  to  thieve  and  lie.  They  sent  him  away 
in  quickened  impatience,  bidding  him  go  to 
his  own  people,  who  needed  such  counsel  far 
more  than  Greenlanders  did.  Thus  one  mes- 
senger after  another  arrived  and  departed. 
Yet  no  good  seemed  settled  in  the  hearts  of  g^g 
men. 

At  last  one  meek  and  holy  man  determined 
to  ask  what  most  they  wanted  ;  and  they  an- 
swered that  they  wished  for  something  that 
would  cleanse  them  from  the  guilt  and  defile- 
ment of  sin.  He  proceeded  to  preach  the 
pure  simple  Gospel  of  redemption,  the  for- 
giveness of  sin  through  the  atonement  made 
by  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  he  taught  them  the 
prayer,  "  Wash  me,  and  I  shall  be  whiter  than 


"  Come  to  Me."  L.  M. 

With  tearful  eyes  I  look  around  ; 

Life  seems  a  dark  and  stormy  sea ; 
Yet,  'mid  the  gloom,  I  hear  a  sound, 

A  heavenly  whisper,  "  Come  to  me." 

2  It  tells  me  of  a  place  of  rest ; 
It  tells  me  where  my  soul  may  flee  : 

Oh,  to  the  weary,  faint,  oppressed. 
How  sweet  the  bidding,  "Come  to  me!" 

3  "  Come,  for  all  else  must  fail  and  die  ! 
Earth  is  no  resting-place  for  thee; 

To  heaven  direct  thy  weeping  eye, 
I  am  thy  portion  ;  come  to  me." 

4  O  voice  of  mercy !  voice  of  love ! 
In  conflict,  grief^  and  agony, 

Support  me,  cheer  me  from  above ! 
And  gently  whisper,  "  Come  to  me." 

From  T/ie  Invalid's  Hymn-Book,  issued  by 
Miss  Charlotte  Elliott,  1834-41.  She  gave  it 
the  simple  title,  "  The  Invitation,  '  Come  unto 
me.'  "  This  little  volume  is  made  up  of  what 
were  fugitive  compositions,  and  for  a  long 
time  some  of  them  went  as  anonymous.  But 
the  authorship  of  most  of  them  now  is  quite 
settled.  The  piece  as  it  was  composed  had 
seven  stanzas,  from  which  these  four  have 
been  chosen.  The  invitation  referred  to  is 
that  in  Matthew  1 1  :  28  :  "  Come  unto  me,  all 
ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy-laden,  and  I  will 
give  you  rest."  For  many  years  these  words 
were  sung  in  this  country  to  a  chant,  so  as  to 
give  a  due  force  to  the  refrain.  But  the  ex- 
periment of  an  adaptation  to  them  of  the  mu- 
sic in  Rubinstein's  "  Song  of  the  Children  of 
Japhet,"  in  The  Tower  of  Babel,  has,  proved 
a  great  and  welcome  success.  This  tune  ap- 
peared in  the  first  edition  of  Laiides  Dorttini, 
1884;  the  arrangement  was  made  for  the 
compiler  by  Charles  Fitzsimmons,  the  organist 
of  the  Madison  Avenue  Presbyterian  Church, 
New  York. 

L.  M. 


God  our  Refuge. 

Thou  only  Sovereign  of  my  heart, 
My  Refuge,  my  almighty  Friend — 

And  can  my  soul  from  thee  depart, 
On  whom  alone  my  hopes  depend  ! 

2  Eternal  life  thy  words  impart ; 
On  these  my  fainting  spirit  lives; 

Here  sweeter  comforts  cheer  my  heart 
Than  all  the  round  of  nature  gives. 

3  Thy  name  my  inmost  powers  adore; 
Thou  art  my  life,  my  joy,  my  care  ; 

Depart  from  thee — 't  is  death,  't  is  more; 
'T  is  endless  ruin,  deep  despair ! 


28o 


THE  GOSPEL  : — ATONEMENT   ACCEPTED. 


4  Low  at  thy  feet  my  soul  would  lie ; 

Here  safety  dwells,  and  peace  divine; 
Still  let  me  live  beneath  thme  eye, 

For  life,  eternal  life,  is  thine. 

From  Poems  on  Subjects  Chiefly  Devotional, 
by  Tkeodosia,  1760,  where  it  is  entitled,  "  Life 
in  Christ  alone."  It  would  be  upon  this  basis, 
best  of  all,  that  the  poetry  of  Miss  Anne  Steele 
might  be  compared  to  that  of  Miss  Frances 
Ridley  Havergal,  our  modern  writer  of  hymns. 
Miss  Steele  seems  to  us  more  objective.  Miss 
Havergal  more  subjective.  The  one  sees  Jesus 
Christ  with  a  more  vivid  sense  of  his  physical 
and  personal  characteristics ;  she  thinks  of 
him  as  suffering  and  moving  around  forsaken 
of  men,  and  tells  her  love  for  him  in  a  pathetic 
and  plaintive  way.  The  other,  just  as  much 
an  invalid,  and  just  as  needy  in  every  fiber  of 
her  existence,  is  more  exhilarant  and  hopeful ; 
her  experience  of  communion  with  a  living 
Redeemer,  and  of  positive  and  happy-hearted 
help  from  him,  is  more  pronounced.  Miss 
Steele  thinks  more  coolly  and  broadly,  in 
theme  and  considerations ;  Miss  Havergal  is 
more  poetical,  more  melodious,  more  delicate, 
and  less  commonplace. 

649  "  Search  me,  O  God."  L.  M. 

Return,  my  roving  heart,  return, 
And  life's  vain  shadows  chase  no  more ; 

Seek  out  some  solitude  to  mourn, 
And  thy  forsaken  God  implore. 

2  O  thou  great  God  !  whose  piercing  eye 
Distinctly  marks  each  deep  retreat. 

In  these  sequestered  hours  draw  nigh, 
And  let  me  here  thy  presence  meet. 

3  Through  all  the  windings  of  my  heart, 
My  search  let  heavenly  wisdom  guide ; 

And  still  its  beams  unerring  dart, 
Till  all  be  known  and  purified. 

4  Then  let  the  visits  of  thy  love 
My  inmost  soul  be  made  to  share, 

Till  every  grace  combine  to  prove 
That  God  has  fixed  his  dwelling  there. 

Dr.  Philip  Doddridge  included  this  in  his 
Hymns,  1755,  entitling  it,  "  Communing  with 
our  Hearts,"  and  adding  a  reference  to  Psalm 
4:4:  "Stand  in  awe  and  sin  not:  commune 
with  your  own  heart  upon  your  bed,  and  be 
still."  It  is  amusing  to  find  that  the  author 
commenced  what  is  here  the  third  stanza  with 
the  line,  "  Through  all  the  mazes  of  my  heart," 
and  then  led  the  attention  of  the  reader  from 
the  unusual  word  "  mazes "  to  a  footnote, 
where  he  soberly  defines  it  as  "  windings,  per- 
plexities." Some  later  compiler  appears  to 
have  comprehended  the  position,  saved  space 
occupied  by  a  useless  footnote,  substituted 
"  windings  "  for  "  mazes  "  at  once,  and  so  bet- 
tered the  hymn.  And  yet  some  critics  there 
are  who  would  pronounce  this  "  tinkering," 
and  cry  out  against  it ! 


650 


Psalm  91. 


8s,  73.  D. 


Call  Jehovah  thy  salvation. 

Rest  beneath  the  Almighty's  shade; 
In  his  secret  habitation 

Dwell,  and  never  be  dismayed  : 
There  no  tumult  can  alarm  thee. 

Thou  shalt  dread  no  hidden  snare; 
Guile  nor  violence  can  harm  thee. 

In  eternal  safeguard  there. 

2  From  the  sword,  at  noonday  wasting. 
From  the  noisome  pestilence. 

In  the  depth  of  midnight,  blasting, 

God  shall  be  thy  sure  defence : 
Fear  not  thou  the  deadly  quiver. 

When  a  thousand  feel  the  blow ; 
Mercy  shall  thy  soul  deliver. 

Though  ten  thousand  be  laid  low. 

3  Since,  with  pure  and  firm  affection, 
Thou  on  God  hast  set  thy  love. 

With  the  wings  of  his  protection 

He  will  shield  thee  from  above; 
Thou  shall  call  on  him  in  trouble, 

He  will  hearken,  he  will  save- 
Here,  for  grief  reward  thee  douole. 
Crown  with  life  beyond  the  grave. 

James  Montgomery  is  the  author  of  this 
piece,  and  it  appears  in  his  Songs  of  Zion, 
1822,  entitled,  "  God's  Merciful  Guardianship 
of  his  People."  It  can  hardly  be  called  a 
version  of  Psalm  91,  but  it  is  so  much  of  a 
paraphrase  at  least  as  that  it  follows  the  sen- 
timent of  that  old  temple-song  with  a  very 
accurate  closeness  and  a  most  musical  rhythm. 
In  the  time  of  our  war  for  the  Union  this 
hymn  was  a  great  favorite  with  the  soldiers. 
It  w^as  printed  upon  a  leaflet  for  distribution 
in  the  large  meetings  held  in  the  army. 


651 


"Fittish  Thy  JVew  Creation." 


8s,  7S.  D. 


Love  divine,  all  love  excelling — 

Joy  of  heaven,  to  earth  come  down  I 
Fix  in  us  thy  humble  dwelling, 

AH  thy  faithful  mercies  crown : 
Jesus  !  thou  art  all  compassion. 

Pure,  unbounded  love  thou  art ; 
Visit  us  with  thy  salvation. 

Enter  everj-  trembling  heart. 

2  Breathe,  oh,  breathe  thy  loving  Spirit 
Into  every'  troubled  breast ; 

Let  us  all  in  thee  inherit, 

Let  us  find  the  promised  rest : 
Come,  almighty  to  deliver ; 

Let  us  all  thy  life  receive  ! 
Speedily  return,  and  never, 

Never  more  thy  temples  leave ! 

3  Finish  then  thy  new  creation. 
Pure,  unspotted  may  we  be : 

Let  us  see  our  whole  salvation 

Perfectly  secured  by  thee! 
Changed  from  glory  mto  glory, 

Tilfin  heaven  we  take  our  place ; 
Till  we  cast  our  crowns  before  thee. 

Lost  in  wonder,  love,  and  praise. 

This  is  one  of  the  noblest  of  all  the  compo- 
sitions of  Rev.  Charles  Wesley.  It  was  first 
g^ven  to  the  public  in  his  Hymns  for  those  that 
Seek,  and  those  that  have  Redemption  in  the 
Blood  of  fesus  Christ,  1747.  "  Come  unto  me, 
all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy-laden,  and  I 


CONFLICT   WITH   SIN. 


281 


will  give  you  rest.  Take  my  yoke  upon  you 
and  learn  of  me ;  for  I  am  meek  and  lowly  in 
heart ;  and  ye  shall  find  rest  unto  your  souls." 
Matthew  11  :  28,  29.  What  strikes  us  so 
strangely  in  reading  over  these  verses  is  the 
discover^'  that  Christ  says  in  the  beginning, 
"  I  will  give  you  rest,"  and  at  the  end  says, 
"  Ye  shall  find  rest."  With  the  one  offer, 
rest  seems  to  be  free :  with  the  other,  it  is 
evidently  somewhat  severely  conditioned. 
Moreover,  the  figures  employed  appear  para- 
doxical. To  propose  to  relieve  a  man  who 
labors  by  putting  on  him  a  yoke,  or  to  help  a 
man  who  is  heavy-laden  by  imposing  upon 
him  a  burden,  gives  chance  for  a  cavil. 

The  explanation  is  found  in  assuming  that 
in  Christian  experience  there  are  two  rests, 
and  not  just  one  only.  The  first  of  these  is 
a  gift,  the  other  is  an  acquisition.  These 
differ  quite  elementally.  They  do  not  ari-ive 
at  the  same  moment.  They  are  not  precisely 
of  the  same  character.  They  certainly  do  not 
come  in  anything  like  the  same  way.  The 
second  one  is  never  attained  till  the  first  has 
preceded  it.  The  first  may  be  reached  years 
before  the  other  is  made  perfect,  so  that  it 
might  happen  that  the  spiritual  distance  be- 
tween them  shall  be  sorrowfully  wide. 

In  the  second  stanza  of  the  hymn  now  be- 
fore us  is  the  line,  "  Let  us  find  the  promised 
rest."  This  is  singularly  unfortunate,  for  a 
fine  allusion  is  lost.  But  singers  insisted  that 
they  did  not  know  what  the  original  line 
meant.  Charles  Wesley  wrote  quite  Scrip- 
turally,  but  we  miss  the  point.  For  he  said, 
"  Let  us  find  that  second  rest."  He  was  sing- 
ing of  what  this  verse  puts  second.  No  one 
can  appreciate  accurately  the  significance  of 
these  figures  who  prefers  to  sing  it,  "  Let  us 
find  thy  promised  rest."  The  yoke  comes 
before  the  doctrine :  "  Take  my  yoke  upon 
you,  and  learn  of  me."  Therein  lies  our  duty. 
The  rest  still  waits.  Yoke-bearing  leads  to 
it.  Learning  of  Christ  leads  to  it.  Jesus 
offers  his  hand  to  you.  Repent  of  all  your 
sins ;  put  your  simple  trust  in  him.  Then 
comes  a  new  endeavor.  Submit  at  once  to 
Christ's  will.  "  If  any  man  will  do  his  will, 
he  shall  know  of  the  doctrine."  The  doing 
is  ahead  of  even  the  doctrine.  Make  one  sim- 
ple resolve,  in  dependence  on  divine  aid : 
"  Here  I  give  myself  to  thee !  I  put  on  the 
yoke,  I  go  joyously  under  the  burden  !" 


652 


"Keep  me  ever." 


8s,  7S.  D. 


When  I  wandered,  thou  hast  found  me ; 

When  I  doubted,  sent  me  light; 
Still  thine  arm  has  been  around  me. 

All  my  paths  were  in  thy  sight. 

2  In  the  world  will  foes  assail  me, 
Craftier,  stronger  far  than  I ; 

And  the  strife  may  never  fail  me, 

Well,  I  know,  before  I  die. 
Therefore,  Lord,  I  come  believing 

Thou  canst  give  the  power  I  need  ; 
Through  the  prayer  of  faith  receiving 

Strength — the  Spirit's  strength,  indeed. 

3  I  would  trust  in  thy  protection, 
Wholly  rest  upon  thine  arm  ; 

Follow  wholly  tny  direction. 
Thou,  mine  only  guard  from  harm  ! 

Keep  me  from  mine  own  undoing, 
Help  me  turn  to  thee  when  tried, 

Still  my  footsteps,  Father,  viewing, 
Keep  me  ever  at  thy  side. 

This  appeared  in  1 842  in  Hymns  for  the 
Young,  by  Rev.  John  Mason  Neale,  D.  D. 
It  had  six  stanzas  of  eight  lines  each,  and 
commenced,  "  Blessed  Saviour  who  hast 
taught  me."  The  present  altered  and  ab- 
breviated form  is  what  is  used  in  most  of  the 
modern  collections.  It  is  a  good  illustration 
of  the  fact  that  children's  hymns  are  often 
precisely  what  adult  Christians  need,  and 
what  they  most  enjoy  when  their  hearts  do 
the  singing. 


653 


Holy  Father,  thou  hast  taught  me 

I  should  live  to  thee  alone  • 
Year  by  year  thy  hand  hath  Drought  me 

On  through  dangers  oft  unknown. 


REV.  JOSEPH  DENHAM  SMITH. 

The  Branch  and  the  Vine.  io< 

.\bide  in  thee,  in  that  deep  love  of  thine, 
My  Jesus,  Lord,  thou  Lamb  of  God  divine; 
Down,  closely  down,  as  living  branch  with  tree, 

1  would  abide,  my  Lord,  my  Christ,  in  thee. 

2  Abide  in  thee,  my  Saviour  God,  I  know 
How  love  of  thine,  so  vast,  in  me  may  flow  : 
My  empty  vessel  running  o'er  with  joy. 
Now  overflows  to  thee  without  alloy. 


282 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


3  Abide  in  thee,  nor  doubt,  nor  self,  nor  sin, 
Can  e'er  prevail  with  thy  blest  life  within  ; 
Joined  to  thyself,  communing  deep,  my  soul 
Knows  naught  besides  its  motions  to  control. 

4  Abide  in  thee,  't  is  thus  alone  I  know 
The  secrets  of  thy  mind  ev'n  while  below  ; 

All  joy  and  peace,  and  knowledge  of  thy  word. 
All  power  and  fruit,  and  service  for  the  Lord. 

This  can  be  found  in  the  Hyimis  for  Gen- 
eral and  Special  Use,  compiled  by  J.  D. 
Smith ;  published  in  London,  but  without 
date.  Most  of  his  work  was  scattered  in 
leaflets  for  popular  services. 

Rev.  Joseph  Denham  Smith  was  an  English 
Congregational  clergyman  whose  life  was 
mostly  spent  in  the  useful  work  of  an  evan- 
gelist. Born  at  Romsey,  Hants,  in  July,  i8i6, 
he  preached  first  at  the  early  age  of  sixteen. 
Then  he  was  educated  in  a  partial  course  at 
the  theological  institute  in  Dublin,  and  was 
received  into  the  ministry  in  1840.  He  was 
in  Ireland  at  some  sort  of  mission  work  for 
several  years,  but  his  more  public  ministerial 
labors  began  at  Newry.  In  1849  he  became 
the  pastor  of  an  Independent  church  at 
Kingstown  near  Dublin,  the  Northumberland 
Avenue  Church,  where  for  a  long  time  his 
success  was  admirable.  Eventually  a  de- 
cided impression  which  his  preaching  pro- 
duced in  a  series  of  evangelistic  meetings  in 
Dublin  led  him  to  resign  his  charge  as  a 
pastor  and  begin  the  work  of  an  evangelist. 
In  this  he  gained  his  recognition  as  a  calm, 
judicious,  devoted  man  of  God ;  his  career 
was  one  of  prosperity  from  the  commence- 
ment. But  his  health  failed  in  1886,  to 
the  sorrow  and  trouble  of  his  many  friends. 
He  had  never  been  rugged,  and  now  his  ail- 
ments assumed  the  form  of  disease.  He 
closed  his  public  ministry  by  a  service  at  Mer- 
rion  Memorial  Hall  in  Dublin,  July  26,  1887. 
Then  the  story  began  of  travel  and  sickness, 
of  gains  and  relapses,  all  borne  patiently  till 
the  end  came,  March  5,  1889.  He  asked  the 
physician  once,  near  the  last,  "  Can  you  give 
me  the  shadow  of  an  idea  how  long  it  will 
be  ?"  And  the  answer  came  frankly  :  "  Not 
long ;  a  little  while  only ;  not  long  now." 
And  his  answer  was,  as  he  dropped  his  tired 
head  back  on  the  pillow :  "  Oh,  how  sweet — 
how  sweet !"  Thus  he  passed  away  ;  but  he 
kept  on  singing  hymns  —  especially  this 
stanza : 

"  I  shall  walk  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of 
death ; 
I  shall  walk  through  the  valley  in  peace; 
For  Jesus  will  himself  be  my  leader, 
I  shall  walk  through  the  valley  in  peace." 

Over  and  over  again  went  that  strain.  "  I  shall 
walk  through  the  valley  in  peace,"  till  he  died. 


654  "  Roll  the  stone  away."  los. 

Our  sins,  our  sorrows,  Lord,  were  laid  on  thee; 
Thy  stripes  have  healed,  thy  bonds  have  set  us  free ; 
And  now  thy  toil  is  o'er,  thy  grief  and  pain 
Have  passed  away  ;  the  vail  is  rent  in  twain. 

2  Ev'n  now  our  place  is  with  thee  on  the  throne. 
For  thou  abidest  ever  with  thine  own  ; 

Yet  in  the  tomb  with  thee,  we  watch  for  day  ; 
Oh,  let  thine  angel  roll  the  stone  away  ! 

3  Oh,  by  thy  life  within  us,  set  us  free! 
Reveal  the  glory  that  is  hid  with  thee  ! 
Glory  to  God  the  Father,  God  the  Son, 
And  God  the  Holy  Spirit,  ever  One. 

Of  the  personal  history  of  Edward  William 
Eddis,  the  author  of  the  piece  before  us, 
little  is  known  beyond  the  fact  that  he  be- 
longed to  the  peculiar  society  called  the 
"  Irvingites  "  or  "  Catholic  Apostolic  Church  " 
in  England.  This  organization  at  one  time 
had  seven  churches  in  the  city  of  London, 
and  was  also  represented  in  other  parts  of 
Great  Britain  and  in  Germany.  Its  ritual 
was  extremely  elaborate,  and  great  importance 
was  attached  by  the  members  to  spiritual 
phenomena,  more  especially  to  the  "  gift  of 
tongues." 

He  compiled  a  volume  of  Hymns  for  the 
Use  of  the  Churches  in  1 864,  in  which  a  num- 
ber of  his  own  compositions  are  to  be  found. 


655 


Thinking  of  Jesus. 


I  JOURNEY  through  a  desert  drear  and  wild. 
Yet  is  my  heart  by  such  sweet  thoughts  beguiled 
Of  him  on  whom  I  lean,  my  strength,  my  stay, 

1  can  forget  the  sorrows  of  the  way. 

2  Thoughts  of  his  love — the  root  of  ever>-  grace 
Which  finds  in  this  poor  heart  a  dwelling-place. 
The  sunshine  of  my  soul,  than  day  more  bright. 
And  my  calm  pillow  of  repose  by  night. 

3  Thoughts  of  his  sojourn  in  this  vale  of  tears — 
The  tale  of  love  unfolded  in  those  years 

Of  sinless  suffering  and  of  patient  grace, 
I  love  again,  and  yet  again,  to  trace. 

4  Thoughts  of  his  glor\- — on  the  cross  I  gaze, 
And  there  behold  its  sad  yet  healing  rays : 
Beacon  of  hope,  which,  lifted  up  on  high. 
Illumes  with  heavenly  light  the  tear-dimmed  eye. 

Mrs.  Mary  Jane  Walker,  sister  of  Rev.  J. 
G.  Deck,  and  wife  of  Dr.  Walker,  rector  of 
an  Episcopalian  Church  in  Cheltenham,  Eng- 
land, wrote  this  poem.  It  was  included  in 
the  collection  of  Psalms  and  Hymns  for  Pub- 
lic and  Social  Worship,  issued  by  her  hus- 
band in  1855.  It  has  won  much  popularity; 
her  title  was,  "  The  Journey  of  Life."  To 
many  Christians  there  seems  much  that  is 
mystic  and  dreamy  in  this  walking  closely 
with  Christ,  as  if  indeed  the  living  Jesus  were 
in  person  present  in  the  companionship.  But 
it  is  impressive,  it  is  beautiful,  when  the  ex- 
perience is  evidently  sincere.  The  sainted 
McCheyne  is  recorded  as  having  said  that  he 
thought  he  was  better  acquainted  with   his 


CONFLICT   WITH    SIN. 


Saviour   than    with   any   other  of    his  dear 
friends. 

Q5Q  "Abide  in  me."  los. 

Why  is  thy  faith,  O  child  of  God,  so  small  ? 
Why  doth  thy  heart  shrink  back  at  duty's  call? 
Art  thou  obeying  this — "  Abide  in  me," 
Aiid  doth  the  Master's  word  abide  in  thee? 

2  Oh,  blest  assurance  from  our  risen  Lord ! 
Oh,  precious  comfort  breathing  from  the  Word  ! 
How  great  the  promise  !  could  there  greater  be? 
"  Ask  what  thou  wilt,  it  shall  be  done  for  thee  !" 

3  "Ask  what  thou  wilt,"  but,  oh,  remember  this — 
We  ask  and  have  not,  for  we  ask  amiss 

When,  weak  in  faith,  we  only  half  believe 
That  what  we  ask  we  really  shall  receive. 

4  Increase  our  faith,  and  clear  our  vision,  Lord  ; 
Help  us  to  take  thee  at  thy  simple  word, 

No  more  with  cold  distrust  to  bring  thee  grief; 
Lord,  we  believe  !  help  thou  our  unbelief. 


W.   F.    SHERWIN. 

This  hymn  is  fitly  associated  with  the  tune 
"  Assurance,"  composed  by  the  same  individ- 
ual, Professor  William  Fisk  Sherwin.  To- 
gether they  will  give  an  excellent  suggestion 
of  his  unusual  power  in  the  field  of  Christian 
song.  He  was  born  in  Buckland,  Franklin 
Co.,  Mass.,  March  14.  1826,  and  died  in  Bos- 
ton, Mass.,  April  14,  1888.  This  life  of  sixty- 
t\yo  years  was  one  of  marked  purity  and  signal 
usefulness.  Professor  Sherwin's  talent  for 
music  was  early  developed ;  his  gift  for  com- 
posing hymns  grew  out  of  the  natural  necessi- 
ties of  the  life  he  led,  and  came  to  notice  later 
on.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  each  of  these 
in  turn  was  fully  consecrated  to  God  and  the 
good  of  mankind. 

It  was  often  pathetic  for  those  who  knew 
him  in  the  intimacies  of  daily  existence  to  hear 
him  rehearse  the  struggles  he  had  to  make  in 
securing  his  education.     Both  his  father  and 


his  mother  were  almost  always  invalids,  and 
this  son  bore  a  large  share  of  the  labor  neces- 
sary to  their  support.  At  ten  years  old  he 
sang  alto  in  the  church  ;  at  twelve  he  played 
the  violoncello ;  and  at  fifteen  became  the 
leader  of  the  choir.  At  sixteen,  having  left 
the  academy,  he  taught  school  in  New  York 
State,  and  during  the  first  three  months  sent 
home  to  his  parents  all  but  three  dollars  of 
his  earnings.  From  that  time  until  two  weeks 
before  his  death  he  was  an  effective  and  vig- 
orous worker. 

Between  seventeen  and  twenty  he  was  un- 
der the  instruction  of  Dr.  Lowell  Mason  and 
George  J.  Webb,  and  then  he  decided  to  make 
the  teaching  of  music  his  profession.  Before 
long,  the  Sunday-School  conventions  drew  him 
out  into  the  new  field  in  which  he  became 
more  widely  known  than  ever  before,  and 
more  useful  too.  For  now  he  began  to  write 
hymns  and  compose  tunes,  both  of  rare  ex- 
cellence ;  and  he  was  famous  as  a  speaker,  his 
so-called  "  Bible-readings  "  being  excellent 
examples  of  what  rich  things  patient  study 
might  be  able  to  find  in  the  Word  of  God. 

At  last  this  real  servant  of  the  Highest  had 
found  his  mission.  He  recognized  the  paltry 
character  of  much  of  the  poetry  and  music  at 
that  time  in  vogue — mere  puerility,  most  of  it, 
as  furnished  for  children.  Believing  that  a 
higher  grade  of  both  was  possible  in  popular 
service,  he  accepted  a  self-imposed  duty  to 
give  the  rest  of  his  life  to  the  elevation  of  taste 
and  acquisition  in  this  department  of  sacred 
song.  A  mind  as  alert  as  his  knew  at  once 
that  this  involved  for  him  the  sacrifice  of  a 
much-prized  professional  reputation ;  but  he 
said  once:  "  If  I  can  be  a  bridge  between  the 
inferior  music  of  the  day  and  the  higher 
classical  music,  I  shall  be  satisfied."  He  went 
at  once  into  the  composition  of  tunes  of  the 
best  construction,  for  choirs  and  for  Sunday- 
Schools.  He  taught  choruses,  he  made  an- 
thems ;  few  of  them  were  ever  in  a  minor  key  : 
all  were  strong,  full,  bright,  essentially  mas- 
culine, thus  reflecting  the  character  of  his  own 
religious  life.  He  became  the  publisher  of 
many  books,  and  was  associated  with  the 
highest  firms  in  New  York ;  he  made  honorable 
friends  everywhere.  Before  long,  about  the 
year  1881,  he  removed  to  Cincinnati,  holding 
a  high  position  there  for  three  years ;  then  he 
removed  to  Boston,  and  for  four  years  was 
one  of  the  Professors  of  the  New  England 
Conservatory  of  Music. 

But  his  public  life  was  greater  outside  of 
all  this.  At  Chautauqua  his  figure  was  as 
familiar  and  constant  as  that  of  Dr.  Vincent 
in  person  from   1874  to  the  summer  before 


284 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


his  death.  As  an  author,  a  composer,  an 
evangelist,  he  was  frequently  in  Canada,  and 
all  over  the  United  States.  It  was  his  assi- 
duity and  his  zeal  that  broke  his  strong  con- 
stitution. But  his  faith  was  clear  and  his 
heart  tender  down  to  the  last.  He  loved 
largely  and  truly ;  he  was  beloved  by  those 
worth  having  for  friends.  So  he  died  in  the 
brightness  of  a  Christian  faith,  simply  taking 
God  at  his  word.  When  asked  by  his  pastor 
at  the  last,  just  the  day  before  he  died,  what 
message  he  would  send  to  the  church,  he 
whispered :  "  Peace,  peace  that  passeth  un- 
derstanding." And  so  God  gave  his  beloved 
sleep. 


657 


"  Thy  love,  not  mine." 


Not  what  I  am,  O  Lord,  but  what  thou  art  ! 

That,  that  alone,  can  be  my  soul's  true  rest : 
Thy  love,  not  mine,  bids  fear  and  doubt  depart. 

And  stills  the  tempest  of  my  tossing  breast. 

2  Thy  name  is  love ; — I  hear  it  from  yon  cross, 
Thy  name  is  love ; — I  read  it  in  yon  tomb ; 

All  meaner  love  is  perishable  dross, 
But  this  shall  light  me  through  time's  thickest 
gloom. 

3  More  of  thyself,  oh,  show  me  hour  by  hour. 
More  of  thy  glory,  O  my  God  and  Lord ; 

More  of  thyself  in  all  thy  grace  and  power, 
More  of  thy  love  and  truth,  incarnate  Word  ! 

From  Dr.  Horatius  Bonar's  Hymtts  of  Faith 
and  Hope,  Second  Series  :  1 864.  It  is  entitled, 
"  The  Love  of  God."  If  a  father  were  cross- 
ing a  dangerous  stream  on  a  narrow  bridge 
high  over  it ;  if  he  were  at  the  moment  clasp- 
ing the  hand  of  his  little  child,  and  the  child 
were  clasping  his  in  a  mutual  affection  ;  then 
if  the  child  were  to  slip  off  the  edge  of  the 
plank — would  it  be  the  hold  he  had  on  his 
father's  hand,  or  his  father's  hold  on  his  hand, 
that  would  save  him  from  the  fall  .'  This 
hymn  answers  that  question,  and  draws  a  les- 
son from  it. 

658  "  Lead  us,  O  Father."  ids. 

Lead  us,  O  Father,  in  the  paths  of  peace; 

Without  thy  guiding  hand  we  go  astray, 
And  doubts  appal,  and  sorrows  still  increase; 

Lead  us  through  Christ,  the  true  and  living  way. 

2  Lead  us,  O  Father,  in  the  paths  of  truth  ; 
Unhelped  by  thee,  in  error's  maze  we  grope, 

While  passion  stains  and  folly  dims  our  youth, 
And  age  comes  on  uncheered  by  faith  and  hope. 

3  Lead  us,  O  Father,  ni  the  paths  of  right ; 
Blindly  we  stumble  when  we  walk  alone. 

Involved  in  shadows  of  a  darksome  night : 
Only  with  thee  we  journey  safely  on. 

4  Lead  us,  O  Father,  to  thy  heavenly  rest. 
However  rough  and  steep  the  path  may  be. 

Through  joy  or  sorrow,  as  thou  deemest  best. 
Until  our  lives  are  perfected  in  thee. 

Rev.  William  Henry  Burleigh,  who  wrote 
the  poem  we  quote,  was  born  February  12, 


18 1 2,  at  Woodstock,  Connecticut.  In  his 
youth  he  was  apprenticed  to  a  printer,  and  in 
1837  he  published  the  Christian  Witness  and 
Temperance  Banner.  Later,  in  1843,  he  be- 
came editor  of  an  Abolition  journal,  The 
Christian  Freeman,  issued  in  Hartford,  Conn. 
Subsequently  he  removed  to  Syracuse,  where 
he  was  for  six  years  agent  of  the  New  York 
State  Temperance  Society.  In  1855,  by  ap- 
pointment of  his  friend  Governor  Clark,  he 
became  Harbor  Master  of  New  York  City,  and 
in  order  to  fulfil  his  duties  effectually  he  went 
to  live  in  Brooklyn,  in  which  city  he  died, 
March  18,  1871. 

Mr.  Burleigh  was  always  an  ardent  friend 
of  reform,  and  was  particularly  active  in  the 
anti-slavery  and  temperance  movements.  The 
four  stanzas  of  this  hymn  are  to  be  found  in 
Lyra  Sacra  Americana,  1868;  together  with 
ten  other  poems  from  the  pen  of  the  same 
"ready  writer." 

659  "  IVe  would  see  Jesus."  iis,  los. 

We  vi-ould  see  Jesus — for  the  shadows  lengthen. 
Across  this  little  landscape  of  our  life ; 

We  would  see  Jesus,  our  weak  faith  to  strengthen 
For  the  last  weariness — the  final  strife. 

2  We  would  see  Jesus — the  great  Rock  Foundation, 
Whereon  our  feet  were  set  with  sovereign  grace ; 

Not  life,  nor  death,  with  all  their  agitation, 
Can  thence  remove  us,  if  we  see  his  face. 

3  We  would  see  Jesus — other  lights  are  paling 
Which  for  long  years  we  have  rejoiced  to  see ; 

The  blessings  of  our  pilgrimage  are  failing, 
We  would  not  mourn  them,  for  we  go  to  thee. 

4  We  would  see  Jesus — this  is  all  we  're  needing. 
Strength,  joy,  and  willingness  come  with  thesight; 

We  would  see  Jesus,  dying,  risen,  pleading. 
Then  welcome  day,  and  farewell  mortal  night ! 

We  can  obtain  no  data  concerning  this 
poem,  except  that  it  is  to  be  found  in  Dr. 
Hastings'  Church  Melodies,  1858,  and  also  in 
Bishop  Huntington's  Elim,  or  Hymns  of  Holy 
Refreshment,  1865.  It  has  seven  stanzas,  and 
bears  the  title  "  A  Death-bed  Hymn."  Pro- 
fessor F.  M.  Bird  says  it  is. usually  credited  to 
Ellen  Ellis,  a  contributor  to  the  Golden  Grain 
series.  It  is  quite  a  pity  that  a  hymn  of  such 
real  excellence  should  go  so  long  without  a 
name.  Sung  to  the  beautiful  music  of  Men- 
delssohn's "  Consolation,"  however,  it  has 
found  favor  with  our  congregations,  and  in 
its  earnest  sentences  we  find  strength  for  liv- 
ing as  well  as  for  dying. 

660  "^  Z:i///^  While."  lis,  los. 
Oh,  for  the  peace  which  floweth  like  a  river. 

Making  life's  desert  places  bloom  and  smile! 
Oh,  for  the  faith  to  grasp  heaven's  bright  "  for  ever," 
Amid  the  shadows  of  earth's  "  little  while!" 

2  A  little  while  for  patient  vigil-keeping, 
To  face  the  storm,  to  battle  with  the  strong; 

A  little  while  to  sow  the  seed  with  weeping, 
Then  bind  the  sheaves  and  sing  the  harvest  song! 


CONFLICT   WITH   SIN. 


285 


3  A  little  while  to  keep  the  oil  from  failing, 

A  little  while  faith's  flickering  lamp  to  trim  ; 
And  then,  the  Bridegroom's  coming  footsteps  hailing, 
To  haste  to  meet  him  with  the  bridal  hymn  ! 

4  And  he  who  is  himself  the  gift  and  giver — 
The  future  glory  and  the  present  smile — 

With  the  bright  promise  of  the  glad  "  for  ever," 
Will  light  the  shadows  of  the  "  little  while !" 

It  is  small  wonder  that  Mrs.  Jane  (Fox) 
Crewdson  sighed  for  "  the  peace  which  flow- 
eth  like  a  river,"  for  her  best  hymns,  and,  in 
fact,  all  of  her  published  verses,  were  written 
while  she  lay  upon  a  bed  of  pain.  She  was 
born  at  Perraw,  Cornwall,  England,  in  Octo- 
ber, 1809,  was  married  to  Thomas  Crewd- 
son, of  Manchester,  in  1836,  and  died  at 
Summerlands,  near  Manchester,  September 
14,  1863.     ' 

From  the  preface  to  the  book,  A  Little 
While,  and  Other  Poems,  published  posthu- 
mously in  1864,  whence  the  hymn  before  us 
is  taken,  we  learn  that  she  was  of  a  richly 
sympathetic  nature,  always  cheerful,  and  that 
she  bore  her  sufiferings  with  unfailing  pa- 
tience. Of  her  it  may  be  said,  as  it  was 
written  of  the  faithful  in  Israel,  "  I  will  bring 
the  third  part  through  the  fire,  and  will  refine 
them  as  silver  is  refined,  and  will  try  them  as 
gold  is  tried :  they  shall  call  on  my  name, 
and  I  will  hear  them :  I  will  say,  It  is  my 
people :  and  they  shall  say,  The  Lord  is  my 
God." 

^61  Prayer  to  the  Trinity.  lis,  ids. 

Father  !  whose  hand  hath  led  me  so  securely, 
Father,  whose  ear  hath  listened  to  my  prayer. 

Father,  whose  eye  hath  watched  o'er  me  so  surely, 
Whose  heart  hath  loved  me  with  a  love  so  rare ; 

2  Vouchsafe,  O  heavenly  Father,  to  instruct  me 
In  the  straight  way  wherein  I  ought  to  go. 

To  life  eternal  and  to  heaven  conduct  me, 
Through  health  and  sickness,  and  through  weal 
and  woe. 

3  O  my  Redeemer !  who  hast  my  redemption 
Purchased  and  paid  for  by  thy  precious  blood  ; 

Thereby  procuring  an  entire  exemption 

From  the  dread  wrath  and  punishment  of  God  ! 

4  Thou  who  hast  saved  my  soul  from  condemnation. 
Redeem  it  also  from  the  power  of  sin, 

,         Be  thou  the  Captain  still  of  my  salvation, 

Through  whom  alone  I  can  the  victorj'  win. 

5  O  Holy  Ghost !  who  from  the  Father  flowest— 
And  from  the  Son,  oh,  teach  me  how  to  pray  ! 

Thou,  who  the  love  and  peace  of  God  bestowest. 
With  faith  and  hope  inspire  and  cheer  my  way  ; 

6  Direct,  control,  and  sanctify  each  motion 
Within  my  soul,  and  make  it  thus  to  be 

Prayerful,  and  still,  and  full  of  deep  devotion, 
A  holy  temple,  worthy.  Lord,  of  thee! 

This  fine  translation  by  Mr.  Richard  Massie 
is  made  from  a  German  original,  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  hymns  of  Dr.  C.  J.  P.  Spitta, 
which  was  published  in  1833.  The  present 
version  appeared  in   Lyra  Do/nest  tea,  i860, 


and  has  become  widely  popular.  It  is  a  peti- 
tion to  the  three  Persons  in  the  Godhead  for 
wisdom,  faith,  and  hope,  to  inspire  the  soul 
and  give  it  confidence  in  its  daily  struggle  with 
sin.  It  needs  all  Solomon's  wisdom,  backed 
by  all  his  experience,  to  make  us  understand 
how  there  can  be  any  sort  of  fear  which  renders 
one  more  trustworthy.  Yet  that  is  precisely 
what  he  says :  "  In  the  fear  of  the  Lord  there 
is  strong  confidence."  This  needs  study;  for 
it  contradicts  all  our  notions  just  to  believe 
that  a  man  must  be  actually  afraid  before  we 
can  begin  to  rely  upon  him. 

It  was  a  most  touching  felicity  on  the  part  of 
John  Bunyan  to  call  one  of  his  most  devoted 
pilgrims,  "  Mr.  Fearing."  Everybody  recol- 
lects, pities,  and  admires  the  poor  frightened 
man.  The  suggestion  of  Greatheart  was  not 
ill-founded,  that  perhaps  he  had  a  private 
Slough  of  Despond  in  his  very  soul.  Yet  how 
loving  he  was !  We  find  him  lying  on  the 
ground,  embracing  the  sward,  and  in  the  ex- 
uberance of  his  affectionate  heart  fairly  kiss- 
ing the  flowers  which  grew  in  the  Valley  of 
Humiliation.  At  times  timid  almost  to  pain- 
fulness,  how  finely  resolute  he  always  proved 
at  the  moment  when  the  pinch  came  !  How 
we  would  love  to  watch  such  a  man  over  the 
dark  river  I  The  morning  was  chosen  for  him 
when  the  flood  was  the  lowest,  so  that  he 
reached  the  Celestial  City  hardly  more  than 
wet-shod.  Quaint  indeed,  but  forcible,  was 
the  quiet  remark  made  of  him,  as  his  many 
trials  and  his  many  virtues  were  recounted, 
"  He  would  have  bit  a  firebrand,  if  it  had 
stood  in  his  way." 


662 


"  We  are  the  Lord's.' 


We  are  the  Lord's  ;  his  all-sufficient  merit. 
Sealed  on  the  cross,  to  us  this  grace  accords ; 

We  are  the  Lord's,  and  all  things  shall  inherit ; 
Whether  we  live  or  die,  we  are  the  Lord's. 

2  We  are  the  Lord's  ;  then  let  us  gladly  tender 
Our  souls  to  him,  in  deeds,  not  empty  words  • 

Let  heart,  and  tongue,  and  life  combine  to  render 
No  douDtful  witness  that  we  are  the  Lord's. 

3  We  are  the  Lord's  ;  no  darkness  brooding  o'er  us 
Can  make  us  tremble,  while  this  star  affords 

A  steady  light  along  the  path  before  us — 
Faith's  full  assurance  that  we  are  the  Lord's. 

4  We  are  the  Lord's  ;  no  evil  can  befall  us 

In  the  dread  hour  of  life's  fast  loosening  cords  ; 
No  pangs  of  death  shall  even  then  appal  us  ; 
Death  we  shall  vanquish,  for  we  are  the  Lord's. 

This  poem  was  written  in  1843,  and  pub- 
lished in  Leipsic.  It  was  founded  on  Romans 
14:8,  and  the  author  was  Rev.  Carl  Johann 
Philipp  Spitta,  D.  D.,  a  well-known  German 
divine,  who  was  born  at  Hanover,  Germany, 
August  I,  1 801,  and  who  died  at  Burgdorf, 
September  28,  1859.  The  English  version 
was  given  to  the  world  by  Rev.  Charles  Tam- 


:86 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


berlane  Astley.  This  author  was  born  at 
Cvvmllecoediog,  near  Mallwyd,  North  Wales, 
May  12,  1825.  It  was  published,  i860,  in 
his  Songs  in  the  Night. 

Mr.  Astley  studied  at  Jesus  College,  Ox- 
ford, from  which  he  graduated  in  1847.  After 
his  ordination  in  1849,  he  became  Evening 
Lecturer  at  Bideford,  and  subsequently  in- 
cumbent of  Holwell,  Oxford,  vicar  of  Mar- 
gate, and  rector  of  Brasted.  Besides  a  few- 
original  hymns,  he  has  made  many  transla- 
tions from  the  German. 

663  Prayer  for  pardon.  7s,  5s. 

God  of  pity,  God  of  grace, 
When  we  humbly  seek  thy  face, 
Bend  from  heaven,  thy  dwelling-place : 
Hear,  forgive,  and  save. 

2  When  we  in  thy  temple  meet, 
Spread  our  wants  before  thy  feet, 
Pleading  at  the  mercy-seat : 

Look  from  heaven  and  save. 

3  When  thy  love  our  hearts  shall  fill, 
And  we  long  to  do  thy  will, 
Turning  to  thy  holy  hill : 

Lord,  accept  and  save. 

4  Should  \\  e  wander  from  thy  fold, 
And  our  love  to  thee  grow  cold, 
With  a  pitying  eye  behold : 

Lord,  forgive  and  save. 

5  Should  the  hand  of  sorrow  press, 
Earthly  care  and  want  distress, 
May  our  souls  thy  peace  possess ; 

Jesus,  hear  ana  save. 

6  And  whate'er  our  cry  may  be, 
When  we  lift  our  hearts  to  thee, 
From  our  burden  set  us  free  : 

Hear,  forgive,  and  save. 

Mrs.  Eliza  Fanny  (Goffe)  Morris  wrote  this 
hymn,  September  4,  1857,  and  named  it  "  The 
Prayer  in  the  Temple."  The  reference  is  to 
the  prayer  of  Solomon  at  the  dedication  of  the 
temple,  II.  Chronicles  6,  and  almost  his  very 
words  are  used  in  the  refrain  at  the  end  of 
each  stanza.  It  was  published  in  1858  in  The 
Voice  and  the  Reply,  Part  II.  This  author 
was  born  in  London,  England,  in  1 82 1 ,  and  be- 
came the  wife  of  Mr.  Josiah  Morris  in  1 849.  She 
has  written  several  good  hymns,  but  the  one 
before  us  is  in  more  general  use  than  the 
others. 

664  "Jesus,  hedr  my  cry  !"  7s,  5s. 

Thou  who  didst  on  Calvary  bleed, 
Thou  who  dost  for  sinners  plead, 
Help  me  in  my  time  of  need  ; 
Jesus,  hear  my  cry. 

2  In  my  darkness  and  my  grief, 
With  my  heart  of  unbelief, 

I,  who  am  of  sinners  chief, 
Lift  to  thee  mine  eye. 

3  Foes  without  and  fears  within, 
With  no  plea  thy  grace  to  win, 
But  that  thou  canst  save  from  sin. 

To  thy  cross  I  fly. 


4  Others,  long  in  fetters  bound, 
There  deliverance  sought  and  found, 
Heard  the  voice  of  mercy  sound  ; 

Surely  so  may  I. 

5  There  on  thee  I  cast  my  care ; 
There  to  thee  I  raise  my  prayer ; 
Jesus,  save  me  from  despair — 

Save  me,  or  I  die. 

6  When  the  storms  of  trial  lower, 
When  I  feel  temptation's  power. 
In  the  last  and  darkest  hour, 

Jesus,  be  thou  nigh. 

This  was  written  by  the  brave  Scotch 
Presbyterian  pastor  and  missionarj-,  Rev. 
James  Drummond  Burns.  It  appeared  in 
The  Evening  Hymn,  1857.  There  does  not 
seem  to  have  been  any  period  of  his  life  in 
which  such  poignant  utterances  of  penitence 
and  remorse  for  sin  could  have  been  person- 
ally appropriate  to  this  author.  He  must 
have  had  a  very  keen  sense  of  the  "  abomina- 
ble thing"  which  God  hated,  even  to  write 
them.  It  is  astonishing  to  find,  however, 
after  reading  or  singing  the  hymn  through, 
that  one's  heart  positively  loves  to  go  humbly 
to  the  throne  of  grace  with  such  words  of 
confession  and  praj^er  rushing  up  out  of  its 
deepest  sensibilities.  It  is  a  wonderfully 
helpful  strain  of  imploration  and  living  trust 
for  a  tempted  man  to  use  in  his  singing. 

665  "  Life  for  evermore.''''  7S,  5s. 

When  the  day  of  toil  is  done. 
When  the  race  of  life  is  run. 
Father,  grant  thy  wearied  one 
Rest  for  evermore. 

2  When  the  strife  of  sin  is  stilled,  • 
When  the  foe  within  is  killed. 

Be  thy  gracious  word  fulfilled — 
"  Peace  for  evermore." 

3  When  the  darkness  melts  away 
At  the  breaking  of  the  day. 

Bid  us  hail  the  cheering  ray — 
Light  for  evermore. 

4  When  the  heart  by  sorrow  tried 
Feels  at  length  its  tiirobs  subside, 
Bring  us,  where  all  tears  are  dried, 

Joy  for  evermore. 

5  When  for  vanished  days  we  yearn. 
Days  that  never  can  return, 
Teach  us  in  thy  love  to  learn 

Love  for  evermore. 

6  When  the  breath  of  life  is  flown, 
When  the  grave  must  claim  its  own. 
Lord  of  life,  be  ours  thy  crown — 

Life  for  evermore. 

In  1870  a  little  book  called  Sixteen  Hymns 
with  Tunes  was  published  by  Rev.  R.  Brown- 
Borthwick.  In  this  the  hymn  now  before  us 
was  included.  It  was  composed  by  Rev. 
John  Eilerton  in  Januar)^  of  that  same  year, 
and  was  by  him  entitled,  "  Eternal  Rest." 
The  pensive  mood,  the  spiritual  life,  the  med- 
itative flow  of  thought,  the  unfaltering  faith, 
the  exquisite  rhythm  of  versification,  so  char- 


CONFLICT    WITH    SIN. 


jS7 


acteristic  of  this  writer,  are  all  exemplified  in 
these  stanzas.  They  have  rightfully  become 
very  popular. 


666 


ydws  renewed. 


P.M. 


Holy  offerings,  rich  and  rare, 

Offerings  of  praise  and  prayer. 

Purer  life  and  purpose  high, 

Clasped  hands,  uplifted  eye. 
Lowly  acts  of  adoration 
To  the  God  of  our  salvation — 
On  his  altar  laid  we  leave  them  . 
Christ,  present  them !  God,  receive  them ! 

2  Promises  in  sorrow  made. 
Left,  alas !  too  long  unpaid ; 
Fervent  wishes,  earnest  thought. 
Never  into  action  wrought — 

Long  withheld,  we  now  restore  them. 
On  thy  holy  altar  pour  them, 
There  in  trembling  faith  to  leave  them  : 
Christ,  present  them !  God,  receive  them  ! 

3  Vows  and  longings,  hopes  and  fears. 
Broken-hearted  sighs  and  tears, 
Dreams  of  what  we  yet  might  be 
Could  we  cling  more  close  to  thee, 

Which,  despite  of  faults  and  failings, 
Help  thy  grace  in  its  prevailings — 
On  thine  altar  laid  we  leave  them  : 
Christ,  present  them  !  God,  receive  them ! 

4  Sinful  thoughts  and  willful  ways, 
Love  of  self  and  human  praise. 
Pride  of  life  and  lust  of  eye. 
Worldly  pomp  and  vanity — 

Faults  that  let  and  will  not  leave  us. 
Though  their  staying  sorely  grieve  us. 
Help,  oh,  help  us  to  outlive  them  : 
Christ,  atone  for!  God,  forgive  them  ! 

5  Brighter  joys  and  tenderer  tears. 
Fonder  faith,  more  faithful  fears. 
Lowlier  penitence  for  sin. 

More  of  Christ  our  souls  within; 
Love  which,  when  its  life  was  newer. 
Burnt  within  us  deeper,  truer — 
Lost  too  long,  while  we  deplore  them  : 
Jesus,  plead  for!  God,  restore  them! 

6  To  the  Father,  and  the  Son, 
And  the  Spirit,  Three  in  One, 
Though  our  mortal  weakness  raise 
Offerings  of  imperfect  praise, 

Yet  with  hearts  bowed  down  most  lowly, 
Crying,  Holy!  Holy!  Holy! 
On  thine  altar  laid  we  leave  them : 
Christ,  present  them !  God,  receive  them ! 

This  popular  hymn  was  written  by  Dr. 
John  S.  B.  Monsell  for  the  offertory  at  the 
opening  of  a  church  in  Paddington,  London, 
in  1867,  and  has  since  become  endeared  to 
Christians  everywhere.  It  groups  together  a 
confession  of  many  errors — sins  of  omission 
as  well  as  of  commission  —  and  yet  a  dis- 
tinct renewal  of  a  vow  to  struggle  against 
them.  It  is  the  searching,  commonplace,  un- 
mistakable sincerity  of  the  fourth  stanza  here 
that  makes  it  so  unusual  and  yet  so  valuable. 
Xavier  has  left  on  record  a  marvelous  state- 
ment :  "  I  have  had  many  people  resort  to 
me  for  confession.  The  confession  of  every 
sin  that  I  have  ever  known  or  heard  of,  and 
of  sins  so  foul  that  I  never  dreamed  of,  has 


been  poured  into  my  ear ;  but  no  one  person 
has  ever  confessed  to  me  the  sin  of  covetous- 
ness."  Bishop  Wilmer  says:  "  One  man  on- 
ly has  ever  expressed  to  me  the  fear  lest  he 
should  become  covetous ;  and  it  is  a  suggest- 
ive fact  that  he  was  the  most  generous  man 
I  have  ever  known,  John  Stewart,  of  Virginia. 
We  used  to  talk  this  matter  over  frequently. 
He  would  say,  '  I  have  noticed  that  covetous- 
ness  is  the  prevailing  disease  of  old  people  ; 
I  fear  it  for  myself  as  I  get  older  ;  and  I  know 
of  but  one  remedy — giving,  giving,  giving !' 
The  most  liberal  are  the  most  fearful  of  self- 
ishness. The  most  learned  feel  most  their 
ignorance  ;  the  most  humble  their  pride  ;  the 
most  pure  their  uncleanness ;  and,  for  the 
same  reason,  the  most  generous  their  selfish- 
ness." 

667  The  Closer  IValk.  C.  M. 

Oh,  for  a  closer  walk  with  God, 

A  calm  and  heavenly  frame — 
A  light  to  shine  upon  the  road 

That  leads  me  to  the  Lamb ! 

2  Where  is  the  blessedness  I  knew 
When  first  I  saw  the  Lord? 

Where  is  the  soul-refreshing  view 
Of  Jesus  and  his  word  ? 

3  What  peaceful  hours  I  once  enjoyed! 
How  sweet  their  memory  still ! 

But  they  have  left  an  aching  void 
The  world  can  never  fill. 

4  Return,  O  holyDove,  return, 
Sweet  messenger  of  rest ! 

I  hate  the  sins  that  made  thee  mourn, 
And  drove  thee  from  my  breast. 

5  The  dearest  idol  I  have  known, 
Whate'er  that  idol  be. 

Help  me  to  tear  it  from  thy  throne. 
And  worship  only  thee. 

6  So  shall  my  walk  be  close  with  God, 
Calm  and  serene  my  frame ; 

So  purer  light  shall  mark  the  road 
That  leads  me  to  the  Lamb. 

This  familiar  hymn  of  William  Cowper 
appeared  earliest  in  the  Collection  of  Psa/ms 
and  Hymns,  issued  by  R.  Conyers  in  1772. 
Toplady  republished  it  four  years  afterward, 
and  then  in  1779  it  was  given  its  place  in 
Olney  Hymns.  It  was  entitled  "Walking with 
God,"  with  a  reference  to  Genesis  5  :  24  :  "And 
Enoch  walked  with  God."  We  love  to  think 
of  the  association  of  our  beloved  poet  with 
his  friend,  the  pastor  of  Oiney  Parish.  Our 
vision  of  him  seems  full  of  peace  and  beauty, 
seated  in  the  little  garden  house  among  the 
trees,  his  quaint  cap  on  his  head,  his  dressing- 
gown  announcing  the  invalidhood  which  his 
companions  pitied,  his  hares  sporting  in  the 
grass,  while  the  spire  of  the  church  shone 
white  across  the  way.  But  of  late  some 
critics  have  taken  occasion  to  intimate  that 
Newton's  theology-  was  too  stern  for  Cowper; 


288 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


COWPER  AT   OLNEY. 


that  the  associations  of ,  Olney  were  altogether 
unhelpful  to  the  poet's  malady.  Even  in 
Newton's  biography  it  was  thought  necessary 
to  make  a  lengthy  deprecation.  Cecil  re- 
marks: "  There  has  gone  forth  an  unfounded 
report,  that  the  deplorable  melancholy  of 
Cowper  was,  in  part,  derived  from  his  resi- 
dence and  connections  in  that  place."  Surely 
no  one  can  read  Cowper 's  letters  through 
that  period  of  his  existence,  and  attribute 
such  a  result  to  Newton's  love  for  his  dear 
friend.  What  Cowper  would  have  done  with- 
out it,  who  can  say  ? 


668  Greatness  in  Service. 

Oh,  not  to  fill  the  mouth  of  fame, 
My  longing  soul  Is  stirred  : 

Oh,  give  me  a  diviner  name! 
Call  me  thy  servant.  Lord  ! 

2  No  longer  would  niv  soul  be  known 
As  uncontrolled  and  free; 

Oh,  not  mine  own,  oh,  not  mine  own  ! 
Lord,  I  belong  to  thee ! 

3  Thy  servant— me  thy  ser\ant  choose ; 
Naught  of  thy  claim  abate ! 

Thy  glorious  name  I  would  not  lose, 
Nor  change  the  sweet  estate. 


CM. 


4  In  life,  in  death,  on  earth,  in  heaven, 

This  is  the  name  for  me! 
The  same  sweet  style  and  title  given 

Through  all  eternity. 

Thomas  Hornblower  Gill  is  an  English 
layman.  He  was  born  at  Bristol  Road,  Bir- 
mingham, England,  February  lo,  1819.  His 
parents  were  Presbyterians  who  became  Uni- 
tarian in  belief.  Hence  the  young  man  could 
not  make  the  subscription  to  the  articles  of 
faith  of  the  Church  of  England,  then  de- 
manded as  the  condition  of  entrance  at  Ox- 
ford. He  did  not  go  to  college,  but  became 
a  sort  of  recluse ;  so  he  has  lived  the  life  of  a 
student  and  writer,  choosing  themes  from 
history  and  theology.  The  number  of  hymns 
which  he  has  given  to  the  churches  is  esti- 
mated as  two  hundred  at  least.  They  are 
earnest,  peculiarly  original,  unlike  most  other 
songs  of  experience  and  devotion,  and  deeply 
evangelical  and  religious.  It  is  said  that  he 
became  estranged  from  the  faith  of  his  pa- 
rents by  studying  the  hymns  of  Isaac  Watts, 
and  noticing  how  the  Unitarian  hymnals  cut 
them  up  and  tore  away  their  meaning.  The 
one  here  chosen  seems  to  allude  to  Mark 
10:44:  "And  whosoever  of  you  will  be  chief- 
est  shall  be  servant  of  all."  He  says  of  it : 
"Composed  in  1849,  and  printed  first  in  a 
small  collection  of  poems  entitled  (I  think) 
The  Violet." 

669  "Trembleth  at  My  IVord."  CM. 

Oh,  for  that  tenderness  of  heart 

That  bows  before  the  Lord ; 
That  owns  how  just  and  good  thou  art. 

And  trembles  at  thy  word. 

2  Oh,  for  those  humble,  contrite  tears 
Which  from  repentance  flow  ; 

That  sense  of  guilt  which,  trembling,  fears 
The  long-suspended  blow ! 

3  Saviour  !  to  me  in  pity  give. 
For  sin,  the  deep  distress ; 

The  pledge  thou  wilt,  at  last,  receive, 
And  bid  me  die  in  peace. 

4  Oh,  fill  my  soul  with  faith  and  love, 
And  strength  to  do  thy  will ; 

Raise  my  desires  and  hopes  above — 
Thyself  to  me  reveal. 

In  the  Short  Hymtts  of  Rev.  Charles  Wes- 
ley, published  in  1762,  this  poem  first  was 
printed.  It  is  a  prayer  for  a  truly  contrite 
heart,  awakened  to  a  realization  of  sinfulness. 
It  undoubtedly  reflects  the  author's  personal 
experience,  as  we  know  from  his  own  words 
that  he  was  inclined  to  be  timid  and  despond- 
ing. The  two  brothers,  Charles  and  John 
Wesley,  were  associated  in  all  the  early  work 
of  establishing  the  Methodist  Church.  On 
one  of  the  great  monuments  in  London  their 
two  profiles  appear  in  a  kind  of  medallion  to- 
gether. The  likeness  and  the  contrast  of 
their  characters   can   be   seen   in    this   very 


CONFLICT   WITH   SIN. 


28g 


MEDALLION  ON   THE   LONDON   MONUMENT. 

plainly.  In  the  biography  written  by  Jack- 
son the  analysis  of  their  differences  is  drawn 
out  quite  skillfully. 

John  Wesley,  in  talking  of  the  new  and 
difficult  circumstances  in  which  he  and  his 
brother  Charles  often  found  themselves 
placed  in  the  days  of  their  early  ministry, 
said,  "  My  brother  Charles  would  say,  '  Well, 
if  the  Lord  would  give  me  wings  I  would 
fly.'  I  used  to  say,  '  Brother,  if  he  bid  me  fly 
I  would  trust  him  for  the  wings.'  "  This 
account  is  highly  illustrative  of  the  character 
of  the  two  brothers ;  John  Wesley  had  m.ore 
confidence,  Charles  more  caution.  It  pleased 
the  great  Head  of  the  Church  to  use  both 
those  dispositions  to  promote  the  knowledge 
of  that  salvation  which  myriads  both  in  earth 
and  heaven  are  now  enjoying.  Henry 
Moore  describes  the  distinctive  peculiarities 
of  their  preaching  thus :  "  John's  preaching 
was  all  principles ;  Charles's  all  aphorisms." 
Charles,  in  a  private  letter,  thus  states  the 
difference  between  him  and  John :  His  bro- 
ther's ma.xim  was,  "  First  the  Methodists, 
then  the  Church ;"  whereas  his  was,  "  First 
the  Church,  then  the  Methodists  ;"  and  that 
this  difference  arose  from  the  peculiarity  of 
their  natural  temperament.  "  My  brother," 
said  he,  "  is  all  hope ;  I  am  all  fear." 

670  Psalm  42.  C.  M. 

As  pants  the  hart  for  cooling;  streams, 

When  heated  in  the  chase, 
So  longs  my  soul,  O  God,  for  thee. 

And  thy  refreshing  grace. 

2  For  thee,  my  God— the  living  God — 

My  thirsty  soul  doth  pine; 
Oh,  when  shall  I  behold  thy  face, 

Thou  Majesty  divine! 


3  Why  restless,  why  cast  down,  my  soul? 
Trust  God  ;  who  will  employ 

His  aid  for  thee,  and  change  these  sighs 
To  thankful  hymns  of  joy. 

4  I  sigh  to  think  of  happier  days, 
When  thou,  O  Lord  !  wast  nigh  ; 

When  ever>'  heart  was  tuned  to  praise, 
And  none  more  blest  than  I. 

5  Why  restless,  why  cast  down,  my  soul? 
Hope  still ;  and  thou  shalt  sing 

The  praise  of  him  who  is  thy  God, 
Thy  health's  eternal  spring. 

After  all  the  differences  among  critics,  we 
are  probably  safe  now  in  continuing  the  credit 
of  this  most  musical  version  of  Psalm  42  to 
Rev.  Henry  Francis  Lyte ;  admitting,  how- 
ever, that  many  of  the  expressions  are  found 
in  the  old  New  Version  of  the  Psabns,  by 
Tate  and  Brady,  1696.  This  was  given  to 
the  public  in  Lyte's  Spirit  of  the  Psalms, 
1834.  We  might  say  of  it  that  it  was  re-writ- 
ten ;  and  the  additions  which  were  made  ren- 
dered the  stanzas  better  for  singing  and  read- 
ing at  every  point  they  touched. 

67  1  "  I  shall  be  with  Him. ' '  CM. 

Lord,  it  belongs  not  to  my  care 

Whether  I  die  or  live; 
To  love  and  serve  thee  is  my  share, 

And  this  thy  grace  must  give. 

2  If  life  be  long,  I  will  be  glad 
That  I  may  long  obey ; 

If  short,  yet  why  should  I  be  sad 
To  soar  to  endless  day  ? 

3  Christ  leads  me  through  no  darker  rooms 
Than  he  went  through  before ; 

No  one  into  his  kingdom  comes 
But  through  his  opened  door. 

4  Come,  Lord,  when  grace  has  made  me  meet 
Thy  blessed  face  to  see ; 

For  if  thy  work  on  earth  be  sweet. 
What  will  thy  glory  be  ! 

5  My  knowledge  of  that  life  is  small ; 
The  eye  of  faith  is  dim  ; 

But  't  is  enough  that  Christ  knows  all, 
And  I  shall  oe  with  him. 

Rev.  Richard  Baxter  was  an  English  cler- 
gyman, curate  of  Kidderminster,  and  after- 
ward a  Nonconformist  in  London,  where  he 
died,  December  8,  1691.  He  was  born  at 
Rowton,  in  Shropshire,  England,  November 
12,  161 5.  For  ten  years  he  lived  with  his 
maternal  grandfather,  then  he  was  taken 
home  to  his  parents.  His  father  had 
been  converted  only  recently,  and  was 
then  in  some  measure  of  trouble ;  the  man- 
ner in  which  he  faced  and  conquered  his 
enemies  with  the  force  of  gentleness  and 
faith  made  a  deep  impression  on  the  boy's 
mind,  and  he  became  a  decided  and  devoted 
Christian  at  the  age  of  fifteen.  From  this 
time  forward  there  was  never  any  repose  or 
tameness  to  his  life.  At  first  he  took  orders 
in  the  Church  of  England  and,  after  some 
19 


290 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


•         A\\ 


RICHARD  BAXTER. 


changes,  in  1640  he  assumed  charge  in  Kid- 
derminster. For  a  while,  during  the  civil  war, 
he  was  doing  religious  work  in  the  army. 
But  the  triumph  of  his  career  was  achieved  in 
his  parish  as  a  godly  and  faithful  pastor  and 
preacher.  It  has  been  recorded  of  him  that 
at  the  beginning  of  his  ministry  in  Kidder- 
minster there  "  was  scarcely  a  house  in  a 
street  where  there  was  family  worship ;"  but 
when  he  left  the  parish  there  "  was  scarcely 
a  family  in  the  side  of  a  street  where  it  was 
not ;  and  whoever  walked  through  the  town 
on  the  Lord's  day  evening  heard  everywhere 
the  delightful  sound  of  reading  the  Scriptures 
a1id  prayer  and  praise." 

After  the  restoration  Baxter  was  one  of  the 
chaplains  of  Charles  II.;  he  was  also  offered 
the  Bishopric  of  Hereford,  but  declined  the 
honor.  On  Black  Bartholomew's  Day,  1662, 
he  was  ejected  from  his  charge,  with  two 
thousand  more  Nonconformists,  and  went 
forth  to  suffer  persecution  for  conscience' 
sake.  He  was  once  imprisoned  for  a  year 
and  a  half.  In  times  of  forced  retirement 
this  wonderful  man  wrote  The  Saint's  Rest, 
Call  to  the  Unconverted,  and  other  religious 
books.  In  his  last  illness  he  was  asked  how 
he  was,  and,  with  an  upward  look,  he  an- 
swered, "  Almost  well." 

In  those  days  there  was  not  very  much  of 
portrait-taking,  except  among  opulent  people. 
Occasionally  in  an  old  book  there  will  be  dis- 
covered a  wood-cut,  out  of  which  a  likeness 
can  be  fashioned,  but  the  work  is  not  good. 


But  there  is  a  pen-picture  given  by  his  biogra- 
pher worth  quoting  in  full.  Baxter's  life  was 
harassed  with  persecution  and  attacks  of 
ever)'  sort,  and,  if  we  may  judge  from  the  tone 
of  his  remarks  on  parties  at  court,  some  of 
his  heaviest  trials  from  without  must  have 
come  upon  him  in  his  intercourse  with  Crom- 
well. He  had  several  inter\'iews  with  the 
Protector,  and  speaks  of  being  "  wearied  '* 
with  his  speeches.     He  says : 

"  I  told  him  a  little  of  iny  judgment ;  and 
when  two  of  his  company  had  spun  out  a 
great  deal  more  of  the  time  in  such  tedious, 
but  mere  ignorant  speeches,  some  four  or  five 
hours  being  spent,  I  told  him  that  if  he  would 
be  at  the  labor  to  read  it  I  could  tell  him  more 
of  my  mind  in  writing  on  two  sheets  than  in 
that  way  of  speaking  in  many  days.  He  re- 
ceived my  paper,  but  I  scarce  believe  that  he 
ever  read  it ;  for  I  saw  that  what  he  learned 
must  be  from  himself,  being  more  disposed 
to  speak  many  hours  than  to  hear  one,  and 
little  heeding  what  another  said  when  he  had 
spoken  himself." 

Who  would  not  like  to  have  had  the  privi- 
lege of  a  quiet  glance  or  two,  first  at  one  and 
then  at  the  other  of  those  two  great  antago- 
nist faces,  during  the  grave  performance  of 
this  comical  act  ?  Who  can  pretend  to  a 
conception  of  the  style  in  which  the  political 
chief  kept  up  appearances  }  Baxter's  visage 
would,  of  course,  be  true  to  its  mission.  A 
remarkable  visage  was  that  of  his  ;  never  to 
be  forgotten  if  once  seen.  Long  it  was,  but 
decided.  Hard,  some  would  say,  but  telling 
with  fearful  eloquence  how  bravely  his  right- 
eous soul  maintained  a  life  struggle  against 
the  acrid  humors  of  a  diseased  body ;  how 
superhuman  labors  for  the  world's  health  had 
been  continued  amidst  losses  of  blood  and 
daily  sweats,  brought  upon  him,  he  tells  us, 
by  "  the  acrimonious  medicaments  "  of  stupid 
doctors,  who  thought  to  save  him  from  the 
effects  of  a  youthful  taste  for  sour  apples  by 
overdoses  of  "  scurvy-grass,"  wormwood- 
beer,  horse-radish,  and  mustard  !  He  looked, 
indeed,  like  one  who,  as  a  last  remedy  for  a 
depressing  affliction,  had  literally  swallowed 
a  "  gold  bullet  of  thirty  shillings'  weight," 
and,  having  taken  it,  "  knew  not  how  to  be 
delivered  of  it  again  I" 

With  all  of  this  the  marks  of  a  confessor 
were  traceable  on  the  good  man's  counte- 
nance. He  had  been  driven  from  place 
to  place.  Now  in  prison  for  preaching 
at  Acton ;  now  kept  out  of  his  pulpit  by  a 
military  guard ;  now  seized  again,  and  his 
goods  and  books  sold  to  pay  the  fine  for 
preaching  five  sermons — he  being  so  ill  that 


CONFLICT    WITH    SIN. 


291 


he  could  not  be  imprisoned  without  danger  of 
death,  and  now  again  in  the  king's  bench 
under  a  warrant  from  the  villainous  Jeffreys 
for  writing  a  paraphrase  on  the  New  Testa- 
ment. His  later  life  was  often  "  in  peril  "  for 
Christ's  sake,  and  there  must  have  been  some- 
thing deeply  touching  in  that  impress  of  dig- 
nified sorrow  which  brought  tears  into  the 
eyes  of  Judge  Hale  when  he  saw  the  perse- 
cuted man  standing  before  the  bench.  His 
presence  must  have  been  felt  wherever  he 
appeared.  Everybody  who  knew  him  ac- 
knowledged his  mental  and  moral  grandeur. 

Richard  Baxter  was  one  of  the  most  pro- 
lific of  religious  writers.  He  issued  at  least 
sixty  large  volumes,  and  his  treatises,  if  reck- 
oned with  them,  would  swell  the  number  to  a 
hundred  and  sixty-eight.  It  is  plain  from  the 
histor\-  of  his  times  that  it  was  these  books 
which  kept  getting  him  into  trouble.  That 
generation,  so  deficient  in  toleration,  as  well 
as  in  spirituality,  refused  to  endure  their 
pointedness  and  exhortational  force.  Every 
effort  was  put  forth  to  check  or  suppress  so 
perilous  and  pertinent  a  public  censor.  It  is 
on  record  that  once  one  of  his  friends  be- 
queathed to  the  author  twenty  pounds  for 
copies  of  his  Call  to  the  Unconverted  to  be 
distributed  among  the  people.  But  North, 
then  the  Lord  Keeper,  decided  that  this 
legacy  was  for  "  superstitious  uses,"  and 
therefore  void.  By  this  he  meant,  so  inter- 
preting an  enigmatical  expression  in  the 
statute,  that  the  book  was  designed  for  the 
propagation  of  a  faith  not  approved  by  the 
State,  the  Episcopal  Church  then  being  the 
establishment  in  England.  Thus  Baxter's 
friends  were  cheated  and  his  enemies  allowed 
to  triumph,  but  his  books  still  circulated. 

It  is  possible  that  some  generous  critics 
would  like  this  old  Puritan's  poetry  as  a 
whole ;  but  stanza-making  was  not  his 
strongest  field  of  effort.  Modern  scholars 
praise  the  verses  he  composed  in  Latin.  A 
collection  of  his  was  published  in  1681,  en- 
titled Poetical  Fragments :  Heart  Itnploy- 
ment  with  God  and  Itself :  The  Concordant 
Discord  of  a  Broken-healed  Heart :  Sor- 
rowing-rejoicing, Fearing-hoping,  Dying- 
living.  But  I  do  not  know  of  even  so  much 
as  one  more  hymn  than  this  which  has  found 
a  permanent  place  and  a  familiar  use  in  the 
hymnals  of  the  present  day.  This  one  appears 
in  the  volume  mentioned  above,  bearing  the 
title,  "  The  Covenant  and  Confidence  of 
Faith."  To  it  there  is  appended  this  pathetic 
little  annotation  by  the  author  :  "  This  Cove- 
nant my  dear  Wife  in  her  former  Sickness 
subscribed  with  a  Chearful  will." 


672  "  ^y  repenting s  are  kindled."  7s. 

Depth  of  mercy ! — can  there  be 
Mercy  still  reserved  for  me? 
Can  my  God  his  wrath  forbear? 
Me,  the  chief  of  sinners,  spare? 

2  I  have  long  withstood  his  grace ; 
Long  provoked  him  to  his  face: 
Would  not  hearken  to  his  calls ; 
Grieved  him  by  a  thousand  falls. 

3  Kindled  his  relentings  are; 
Me  he  now  delights  to  spare; 
Cries,  How  shall  I  give  thee  up? — 
Lets  the  lifted  thunder  drop. 

4  There  for  me  the  Saviour  stands ; 
Shows  his  wounds  and  spreads  his  hands  ! 
God  is  love!  1  know,  I  feel : 

Jesus  weeps,  and  loves  me  still. 

This  piece  by  Rev.  Charles  Wesley  was 
first  published  in  his  Hyvms  and  Sacred 
Poems,  1740,  but  it  has  been  considerably 
altered  and  abbreviated  to  fit  it  for  use  at  the 
present  time.  The  hymn  is  remarkable  for 
its  dramatic  presentation  of  Christ's  aspect 
as  he  stands  appealing  to  the  sinner.  A  very 
suggestive  comment  was  published  some 
years  ago  in  an  English  volume  of  Teachers' 
Helps : 

"  There  are  many  portraits  of  our  Lord, 
each  more  or  less  expressive  of  its  painter's 
nationality,  but  all,  nevertheless,  bearing 
certain  well-known  lines  which  tradition  has 
reserved  for  the  Master.  Rarely,  however,  is 
there  a  person,  other  than  the  painter  himself,, 
that  feels  satisfied  with  any  of  these  pictures. 
Each  of  us  has  painted  in  living  colors  on 
his  heart  the  divine  Brother,  '  holy,  harmless, 
undefiled,  separate  from  sinners.'  Perhaps  it 
is  singular  that  Holy  Writ  is  so  mute  regard- 
ing the  personal  appearance  of  Jesus,  while 
it  speaks  with  such  fullness  upon  what  he 
did  and  what  he  was;  but  the  inference 
seems  plain ;  outward  appearance  is  a  small 
matter  compared  with  the  man  himself.  And 
yet  we  cannot  altogether  help  wondering  how 
Jesus  looked.  We  cannot  think  his  face 
was  unchangeable.  We  have  all  noted  the 
marvelous  changes  in  some  human  faces. 
Such  a  face  will  not  give  you  a  good  photo- 
graph ;  that  moment  of  rest,  that  single  poise, 
was  the  dropped  curtain  between  the  acts  on 
that  beautiful  face — the  stage  of  the  drama 
of  life.  You  sit  looking  at  the  photograph, 
but  see  not  your  friend  till  you  shut  your  eyes 
and  turn  the  panorama  of  memory'.  It  seems 
to  us  that  in  writing  his  gospel  Mark  was 
thus  affected ;  he  continually  turned  back  in 
memory  to  see  how  Jesus  looked  when  He 
said  this  or  that.  Matthew  does  not  mention 
Jesus'  looks,  nor  does  the  beloved  disciple 
John ;  Luke  does  so  only  twice,  but  Mark,  in 
his  short  book,  speaks  of  them  no  less  than 
seven  times." 


292 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


673  The  Ancient  Litany.  7s,  D. 

Saviour,  when  in  dust  to  thee 
Low  we  bend  the  adoring  knee ; 
When,  repentant,  to  the  skies 
Scarce  we  lift  our  weeping  eyes ; 
Oh,  by  all  thy  pains  and  woe 
Suffered  once  lor  man  below, 
Bending  from  thy  throne  on  high, 
Hear  our  solemn  Litany  ! 

2  By  thy  helpless  infant  years, 
By  thy  life  of  want  and  tears. 
By  thy  days  of  sore  distress 
In  the  savage  wilderness ; 

By  the  dread  mysterious  hour 
Of  the  insulting  tempter's  power — 
Turn,  oh,  turn  a  favoring  eye; 
Hear  our  solemn  Litany  ! 

3  By  thine  hour  of  dire  despair; 
By  thine  agony  of  prayer; 

By  the  cross,  the  nail,  the  thorn. 
Piercing  spear,  and  torturing  scorn  ; 
By  the  gloom  that  vailed  the  skies 
O'er  the  dreadful  sacrifice — 
Listen  to  our  humble  cr>-. 
Hear  our  solemn  Litany! 

4  By  thy  deep  expiring  groan  ; 
By  thy  sad-sepulchral  stone ; 
By  the  vault  whose  dark  abode 
Held  in  vain  the  rising  God  ; 

Oh,  from  earth  to  heaven  restored, 
Mighty  reascended  Lord! 
Listen,  listen  to  the  cry 
Of  our  solemn  Litany  ! 

This  paraphrase  of  the  ancient  Litany,  by 
Sir  Robert  Grant,  was  earliest  printed  in  The 
Christian  Observer,  181 5.  It  was  included 
with  the  rest  of  the  illustrious  author's  com- 
positions, that  were  gathered  by  his  brother. 
Lord  Glenelg,  into  a  volume,  Sacred  Poetns, 
in  1 839.  There  were  only  twelve  of  these  in 
all ;  but  they  are  widely  in  use  among  the  col- 
lections, and  are  of  excellent  merit.  The 
Litany  was  compiled  from  various  sources ; 
parts  of  it  are  as  ancient  as  the  Apostolical 
Constitutions,  300 ;  parts  from  services  Roman 
and  Anglo-Saxon ;  other  parts  from  the  litur- 
gies of  Bucer,  1 543,  and  Cranmer,  1 549.  These 
were  amended  in  1661  and  in  1798. 

674  "  Jesus,  visit  me."  7s. 

Jesus,  Jesus  !  visit  me ; 
How  my  soul  longs  after  thee ! 
When,  iny  best,  my  direst  Friend  ! 
Shall  our  separation  end  ? 

2  Lord  !  my  longings  never  cease ; 
Without  thee  I  find  no  peace ; 

'T  is  my  constant  cry  to  thee, 
Jesus,  Jesus  !  visit  me. 

3  Mean  the  joys  of  earth  appear, 
All  below  is  dark  and  drear; 
Naught  but  thy  beloved  voice 
Can  my  wretched  heart  rejoice. 

4  Thou  alone,  my  gracious  Lord ! 
Art  my  shield  and  great  reward  ; 
All  my  hope,  my  Saviour  thou. 
To  thy  sovereign  will  I  bow. 

Johann  Scheffler  wrote  this  hymn  in  1657, 
and  it  was  published  in  that  year  in  his  Hei- 
lige  Seelenlust.     It  had  nine  stanzas  of  four 


lines  each,  and  was  entitled  "  She  (the  Soul) 
longs  after  Jesus  alone."  The  Enghsh  version 
here  given  is  the  work  of  Rev.  Prof.  Robinson 
Porter  Dunn,  D.  D.,  who  was  born  at  New- 
port, Rhode  Island,  May  31,  1825.  He  grad- 
uated with  high  honors  from  Brown  Uni- 
versity in  1 843,  but  remained  two  years  longer 
at  his  Alma  Mater  as  librarian  and  instructor 
in  French.  Subsequently,  he  studied  theol- 
ogy at  Princeton,  and  November  i,  1848,  was 
ordained,  and  became  pastor  of  the  First  Pres- 
byterian Church  of  Camden,  N.  J.  He  minis- 
tered in  this  held  until  1 851,  when  he  accepted 
the  chair  of  Rhetoric  and  English  Literature 
at  Brown  University,  where  in  1864  the  degree 
of  Doctor  of  Divinity  was  conferred  upon  him. 
He  died  in  Newport,  August  28,  1867,  after  a 
brief  illness.  The  American  collections  o\\  e 
a  number  of  fine  hymns  to  the  able  pen  of  Dr. 
Dunn,  who  is  to  be  remembered  in  that  con- 
nection as  well  as  for  his  scholarly  attainments 
and  his  ability  as  an  instructor. 

675  Christ,  our  all.  7s,  D. 

Jesus!  lover  of  my  soul. 

Let  me  to  thy  bosom  fly 
While  the  billows  near  me  roll, 

W'hile  the  tempest  still  is  high  ; 
Hide  me,  O  my  Saviour  !  hide, 

Till  the  storm  of  life  is  past ; 
Safe  into  the  haven  guide ; 

Oh,  receive  my  soul  at  last ! 

2  Other  refuge  have  I  none ; 
Hangs  my  helpless  soul  on  thee  ; 

Leave,  ah  !  leave  me  not  alone, 
Still  support  and  comfort  me. 

All  my  trust  on  thee  is  stayed  ; 
All  my  help  from  thee  I  bring; 

Cover  my  defenceless  head 
With  the  shadow  of  thy  wing. 

3  Thou,  O  Christ !   art  all  I  want ; 
More  than  all  in  thee  I  find  ; 

Raise  the  fallen,  cheer  the  faint. 
Heal  the  sick,  and  lead  the  blind. 

Just  and  holy  is  thy  name, 
I  am  all  unrighteousness; 

Vile  and  full  of  sin  I  am. 
Thou  art  full  of  truth  and  grace. 

4  Plenteous  grace  with  thee  is  found, 
Grace  to  pardon  all  my  sin ; 

Let  the  healing  streams  abound. 
Make  and  keep  me  pure  within; 

Thou  of  life  the  fountain  art. 
Freely  let  me  take  of  thee ; 

Spring  thou  up  within  my  heart. 
Rise  to  all  eternity. 

Of  all  the  poems  written  by  Rev.  Charles 
Wesley  it  is  likely  now  that  this  one  would 
be  declared  his  noblest  and  best.  It  appears 
uniformly  in  the  collections  of  the  various 
Churches,  whatever  their  name  or  creed.  It 
was  composed  in  1740,  and  published  the 
same  year  in  Hy/mis  and  Sacred  Poems.  One 
verse  is  usually  omitted  in  singing,  to  save 
space.  The  title  which  the  author  gave  to  it 
is  "  In  Temptation."  Several  accounts  are 
given  of  its  origin.     Some  say  that  a  meeting 


CONFLICT   WITH   SIN. 


-93 


of  the  Wesley  brothers  was  broken  up  by  a 
mob.  They  took  refuge  in  a  spring-house. 
There  the  poem  was  written  with  a  piece  of 
lead  hammered  into  a  sort  of  pencil.  So  it  is 
declared  that  it  was  an  effusion  of  gratitude 
because  of  their  providential  escape.  Others 
say  that  the  poet  was  at  one  time  sitting  at 
an  open  casement  when  a  little  bird,  pursued 
by  a  hawk,  flew  in  and  took  refuge  in  the 
bosom  of  his  garment.  Caught  by  a  sugges- 
tion so  spiritual,  the  author  gave  the  incident 
this  memorial  in  sacred  song.  Biographers 
state  that  neither  of  these  stories  can  find 
proof.  The  imagery  found  in  the  omitted 
verse  would  appear  to  show  an  allusion  in  its 
sentiment  or  language  to  the  attempt  of 
Simon  Peter  to  walk  on  the  Sea  of  Galilee. 
But  most  people  would  find  enough  in  some 
well-known  experiences  of  Wesley  on  the 
Atlantic  for  his  suggestion. 

We  have  the  highest  authority  for  saying 
that  "  a  prophet  is  not  without  honor,  save  in 
his  own  country  and  in  his  own  house."  It 
is  rare  to  find  an  exception  to  this  rule.  So 
it  will  be  of  manifest  interest  to  us  now  to 
quote  the  comments  of  The  Methodist  Hymn- 
book,  used  throughout  the  British  Empire,  as 
it  enters  upon  its  account  of  the  wonderful 
song  so  dear  to  us  all :  "  Charles  Wesley 
wrote  hymns  for  almost  every  scene  and  cir- 
cumstance of  life ;  but,  like  Watts,  Cowper, 
and  Toplady,  he  had  his  masterpiece.  The 
Lord  of  glory  bestowed  on  Charles  Wesley 
the  high  honor  of  composing  the  finest  heart- 
hymn  in  the  English  tongue.  If  the  greatest 
hymn  of  the  cross  is  '  Rock  of  Ages,'  and  the 
greatest  hymn  of  providence  is  Cowper's 
*  God  moves  in  a  mysterious  way,'  and  the 
grandest  battle-hymn  is  Martin  Luther's  '  God 
is  our  Refuge,"  then  it  may  be  said  that  the 
queen  of  all  the  lays  of  holy  love  is  that  im- 
mortal song,  '  Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul.' 

"  Whatever  may  be  said  of  Wesley's  doc- 
trine of  perfect  holiness,  there  is  not  much 
doubt  that  he  attained  '  unto  perfection  '  when 
he  wrote  this  hymn.  It  is  happily  married, 
also,  to  two  exquisite  tunes,  '  Refuge '  and 
'Martyn,'  both  of  which  are  worthy  of  the 
alliance.  The  first  of  these  tunes  is  a  gem. 
The  one  central,  all-pervading  idea  of  this 
matchless  hymn  is  the  soul's  yearning  for  its 
Saviour. 

"  The  figures  of  speech  vary,  but  not  the 
thought.  In  one  line  we  see  a  storm-tossed 
voyager  crying  out  for  shelter  until  the  tem- 
pest is  over.  In  another  line  we  see  a  timid, 
tearful  child  nestling  in  its  mother's  arms, 
with  the  words  faltering  on  its  tongue,  '  Let 
me  to  thy  bosom  fly — hangs  my  helpless  soul 


on  thee  !'  Two  lines  of  the  hymn  have  been 
breathed  fervently  and  often  out  of  bleeding 
hearts.  When  we  were  once  in  the  valley  of 
the  death-shade,  with  one  beautiful  child  in 
its  new-made  grave  and  the  other  threatened 
with  fatal  disease,  there  was  no  prayer  which 
we  uttered  oftener  than  this,  '  Leave,  ah 
leave  me  not  alone  ;  still  support  and  comfort 
me.'  This  hymn  was  written  in  1739,  ^"^ 
printed  before  the  first  Methodist  society  was 
six  months  old.  We  do  not  doubt  that  tens 
of  thousands  of  other  bereaved  and  wounded 
hearts  have  cried  this  piercing  cry  out  of  the 
depths,  "  Still  support  and  comfort  me.'  " 

To  these  incidents,  perhaps,  it  may  be  al- 
lowed to  add  two  more  belonging  to  the 
American  side  of  the  sea :  President  Finney 
was  walking  about  his  grounds  on  the  night 
just  before  his  death.  In  the  church  where 
he  had  been  preaching  for  almost  forty  years 
the  evening  service  had  begun,  and  he  heard 
this  hymn  out  in  the  air  as  it  floated  to  him 
from  the  distance.  He  caught  up  so  familiar 
a  strain  easily,  and  sang  the  verses  with  the 
choir  clean  on  to  its  end.  Before  the  next 
morning  he  was  in  heaven  singing  with  the 
saints. 

The  venerable  Dr.  George  Duffield  (author 
of  "  Stand  up,  stand  up  for  Jesus ")  once 
wrote  to  his  son  :  "  One  of  the  most  blessed 
days  of  my  life  was  when  I  found,  after  my 
harp  had  long  hung  on  the  willows,  that  I 
could  sing  again ;  that  a  new  song  was  put 
in  my  mouth;  and  when,  ere  ever  I  was 
aware,  I  was  singing,  'Jesus,  lover  of  my 
soul.'  If  there  is  anything  in  Christian  ex- 
perience, of  joy  and  sorrow,  of  affliction  and 
prosperity,  of  life  and  death — that  hymn  is 
the  hymn  of  the  ages  !" 


676  "Home  at  Last." 

We  are  but  strangers  here, 

Heaven  is  our  home; 
Earth  is  9.  desert  drear, 

Heaven  is  our  home  : 
Danger  and  sorrow  stand 
Round  us  on  every  hand, 
Heaven  is  our  Fatherland, 

Heaven  is  our  home. 

2  What  though  the  tempests  rage? 
Heaven  is  our  home; 

Short  is  our  pilgrimage. 

Heaven  is  our  home: 
And  Time's  wild  wintr>'  blast 
Soon  shall  be  overpast, 
We  shall  reach  home  at  last ; 

Heaven  is  our  home. 

3  There  at  our  Saviour's  side, 
Heaven  is  our  home; 

May  we  be  glorified  ; 

Heaven  is  our  home : 
There  are  the  good  and  blest, 
Those  we  love  most  and  best, 
Grant  us  with  them  to  rest ; 

Heaven  is  our  home. 


6s,  4s. 


294 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


4  Grant  us  to  murmur  not, 

Heaven  is  our  home  ; 
Whate'er  our  earthly  lot, 

Heaven  is  our  home. 
Grant  us  at  last  to  stand 
There  at  thine  own  right  hand, 
Jesus,  in  Fatherland  : 

Heaven  is  our  home ! 

The  author  of  this  farfiiliar  hymn.  Rev. 
Thomas  Rawson  Taylor,  was  the  son  of  a 
Dissenting  minister  in  England.  He  was 
born  in  Yorkshire,  May  9,  1807,  but  his  boy- 
hood was  spent  in  Bradford,  near  Leeds,  and 
in  Manchester.  He  was  for  a  year  a  clerk  in 
a  counting-house,  and  then  was  apprenticed 
to  a  printer  who  was  a  man  of  deep  piety. 
Three  years  later  he  began  his  studies  for  the 
ministry-,  and  in  1830  he  was  ordained  to  the 
charge  of  a  chapel  in  Sheffield.  He  soon  de- 
veloped disease  of  the  lungs,  and  was  com- 
pelled to  resign  his  pastoral  work.  He  re- 
turned to  Bradford,  where  he  attempted  to 
assist  his  father  in  his  clerical  duties,  and  to 
teach  the  classics  in  Airedale  College ;  but 
his  strength  failed  rapidly,  and  he  died 
March  7,  1835.  This  hymn  was  written  dur- 
ing his  illness,  and  published  with  a  few  others 
in  his  Memoirs  the  year  after  his  death. 
The  present  version  differs  slightly  from  the 
original  one,  but  in  this  form  it  has  attained 
a  wide  popularity. 

Now  and  then  we  find  a  great  deal  of  in- 
struction in  a  single  word,  when  we  actually 
know  what  it  means.  In  the  affecting  reply 
of  the  patriarch  Israel  to  King  Pharaoh,  when 
he  asked  him,  "  How  old  art  thou  ?"  there  is 
this  statement :  "  The  days  of  my  pilgrimage 
are  one  hundred  and  thirty  years ;  few  and 
evil  have  the  days  of  the  years  of  my  life 
been,  and  have  not  attained  unto  the  days  of 
the  years  of  my  fathers,  in  the  days  of  their 
pilgrimage."  Twice  in  the  same  sentence  he 
calls  life  a  pilgrimage.  And  we  cannot 
hope  to  catch  the  full  significance  of  the  im- 
pressive iigure  until  we  learn  the  exact 
meaning  of  the  word.  Now  everybody  thinks 
he  can  define  it.  A  pilgrim  is  a  traveler ;  a 
pilgrimage  is  a  journey.  Very  well ;  but  is 
that  all  ?  Does  every  one  who  takes  a  jour- 
ney go  on  a  pilgrimage  ?  The  Mussulman 
does,  when  he  starts  for  Mecca.  The  Jew  used 
to,  when  he  went  to  Jerusalem.  Let  us  look 
in  the  lexicon.  A  pilgrimage  is  "  a  journey 
for  religious  purposes,  to  a  place  esteemed 
holy."  It  is  a  journey  over  the  hills  of  the 
years,  for  a  purpose  most  hallowed,  to  a 
place  where  the  inhabitants  unceasingly  cry, 
"  Holy,  holy,  holy,"  to  their  King.  "  Thy 
statutes  have  been  my  songs  in  the  house  of 
my  pilgrimage."     Psalm  119:  54. 


677  Jesus  is  mine.  6s,  4s. 

Now  I  have  found  a  Friend ; 

Jesus  is  mine; — 
His  love  shall  never  end  ; 

Jesus  is  mine; 
Though  earthly  joys  decrease, 
Though  earthly  friendships  cease, 
Now  I  have  lasting  peace  : 

Jesus  is  mine. 

2  Though  I  grow  poor  and  old, 
Jesus  is  mine; 

Though  I  grow  faint  and  cold, 

Jesus  is  mine: 
He  shall  my  wants  supply; 
His  precious  blood  is  nigh, 
Naught  can  my  hope  destroy ; 

Jesus  is  mine. 

3  When  earth  shall  pass  away — 
Jesus  is  mine; 

In  the  great  Judgment  day — 

Jesus  is  mine: 
Oh  !  what  a  glorious  thing. 
Then  to  behold  my  King, 
On  tuneful  harp  to  sing, 

Jesus  is  mine. 

4  Father !  thy  name  I  bless ; 
Jesus  is  mine; 

Thine  was  the  sovereign  grace ; 

Praise  shall  be  thine; 
Spirit  of  holiness ! 
Sealing  the  Father's  grace, 
Thou  mad'st  my  soul  embrace 

Jesus,  as  mine. 

The  poem  before  us  was  privately  printed 
in  1852  by  its  author,  Henry  Joy  McCracken 
Hope,  who  was  born  near  Belfast,  Ireland,  in 
1809.  Few  details  in  regard  to  his  personal 
history  can  be  obtained  beyond  the  fact  that 
he  was  a  bookbinder,  and  was  employed  for 
many  years  by  the  Messrs.  Chambers,  in 
Dublin.  His  death  occurred  at  Shanemagow- 
ston,  Dunadr)-,  County  Antrim,  Ireland, 
January  19.  1872. 


678  Close  to  God. 

Nearer,  O  God,  to  thee  ! 

Hear  thou  our  prayer; 
Ev'n  though  a  heavy  cross 

Fainting  we  bear, 
Still  all  our  prayer  shall  be 
Nearer,  O  God,  to  thee, 
Nearer  to  thee ! 

2  If,  where  they  led  the  Lord, 
We  too  are  borne, 

Planting  our  steps  in  his. 

Weary  and  worn  ; 
There  even  let  us  be 
Nearer,  O  God,  to  thee, 
Nearer  to  thee ! 

3  If  thou  the  cup  of  pain 
Givest  to  drink, 

Let  not  the  trembling  lip 

From  the  draught  shnnk  ; 
So  by  our  woes  to  be 
Nearer,  O  God,  to  thee, 
Nearer  to  thee ! 

4  Though  the  great  battle  rage 
Hotly  around, 

Still  where  our  Captain  fights 

Let  us  be  found  ; 
Through  toils  and  strife  to  be 
Nearer,  O  God,  to  thee. 
Nearer  to  thee ! 


6s,  4s. 


CONFLICT    WITH    SIN. 


295 


5  And  when  thou,  Lord,  once  more 

Glorious  shall  come. 
Oh,  for  a  dwelling-place 

In  thy  bright  home ! 
Through  all  eternity 
Nearer,  O  God,  to  thee. 
Nearer  to  thee ! 

This  excellent  piece  was  written  for  Morell 
and  Wow's  Psalms  and  Hymns,  1864.  It  bears 
the  name  of  Bishop  William  Walsham  How. 
In  one  of  the  British  hymnals,  into  which  it 
was  copied,  it  is  styled,  "  A  paraphrase  of 
Mrs.  Adams'  hymn,  expressing  more  defi- 
nitely Christian  faith,  and  better  adapted  for 
congregational  worship."  The  one  weakness 
and  fault  of  the  hymn  beginning,  "  Nearer, 
my  God,  to  thee,"  is  found  in  the  continuing 
through  the  whole  line  of  stanzas  the  figure 
of  Jacob's  vision  at  Bethel.  The  singular  ad- 
vantage of  this  one,  which  is  better  in  every 
particular,  is  found  in  the  fact  that  it  never  so 
much  as  mentions  the  figure ;  but  traces  the 
Christian  experience  in  following  the  Lord 
Jesus  in  his  earthly  history  of  Calvary  and 
Gethsemane  trials,  and  in  his  triumphs  of 
overcoming  death,  and  sings  out  the  hope  of 
his  coming  to  receive  his  disciples  to  himself 
in  the  Father's  house  he  promised.  How  such 
a  hymn  can  be  called  "  a  paraphrase  "  of  the 
other  oasses  understanding. 

679  The  IValk  with  God.  6s,  4s. 

Walking  with  thee,  my  God, 

Saviour  benign. 
Daily  confer  on  me 

Conv-erse  divine : 
Jesus,  in  thee  restored, 
Brother  and  blessed  Lord, 

Let  it  be  mine. 

2  Walking  with  thee,  my  God, 
Like  as  a  child 

Leans  on  his  father's  strength, 

Crossing  the  wild ; 
And  by  the  way  is  taught 
Lessons  of  holy  thought, 

Faith  undefiled. 

3  Walking  in  reverence 
Humbly  with  thee, 

Yet  from  all  abject  fear 

Lovingly  free : 
Ev'n  as  a  friend  with  friend. 
Cheered  to  the  journey's  end. 

Walking  with  thee. 

This  piece,  composed  by  George  Rawson, 
was  first  published  in  the  Supplemental  Hymns, 
which  Dr.  AUon  compiled  for  the  Congrega- 
tional churches  in  England,  1868.  From  that 
book  it  was  chosen  for  Laudes  Domini.  It 
makes  no  pretension  in  its  humble  way ;  but 
really  it  has  a  singular  value,  found  in  the 
need  it  meets  as  a  representative  of  the  text : 
"  And  Enoch  walked  with  God."  Genesis 
5:23. 


680  Genesis  28  :  10-22.  6s,  4s. 

Nearer,  my  God,  to  thee, 

Nearer  to  thee ! 
Ev'n  though  it  be  a  cross 

That  raiseth  me ! 
Still  all  my  song  shall  be, 
Nearer,  my  God,  to  thee, 

Nearer  to  thee ! 

2  Though,  like  a  wanderer, 
The  sun  gone  down, 

Darkness  be  over  me, 

My  rest  a  stone, 
Vet  in  my  dreams  I  'd  be 
Nearer,  my  God,  to  thee, 

Nearer  to  thee ! 

3  There  let  the  way  appear. 
Steps  unto  heaven  : 

All  that  thou  sendest  me. 

In  mercy  given ; 
Angels  to  beckon  me 
Nearer,  my  God,  to  thee. 

Nearer  to  thee! 

4  Then,  with  my  waking  thoughts 
Bright  with  thy  praise. 

Out  of  my  stony  griefs 

Bethel  I  '11  raise: 
So  by  my  woes  to  De 
Nearer,  my  God,  to  thee. 

Nearer  to  thee ! 

The  author  of  this  justly  celebrated  hymn, 
Mrs.  Sarah  Flower  Adams,  was  the  second 
daughter  of  Benjamin  Flower,  for  a  long  time 
editor  and  proprietor  of  The  Cambridge  In- 
telligencer. She  was  born  at  Harlow,  Essex, 
England,  February  22,  1805.  Her  taste  for 
literature  as  well  as  her  fondness  for  com- 
position, in  both  prose  and  verse,  was  evinced 
quite  early  in  her  life.  In  1834  she  was  mar- 
ried to  William  Bridges  Adams,  an  engineer 
by  profession,  and  widely  known  as  a  man  of 
scientific  and  literary  attainments.  Her  life 
was  a  very  happy  one  in  this  relation.  The 
death  of  her  sister,  Eliza  Flower,  in  1 847  sen- 
sibly affected  her  health  and  spirits,  and  she 
gradually  sank  under  the  strain  of  trial  during 
the  succeeding  two  years,  and  died  August 
14,  1848.  She  was  buried  in  Foster  Street 
Cemetery,  near  Harlow. 

The  pastor  of  this  estimable  lady  was  the 
Rev.  William  Johnston  Fox,  known  as  the 
founder  of  the  Westminster  Rezn'ew.  He 
was  an  Independent,  usually  classed  among 
the  Unitarians,  and  by  some  considered  a 
Deist  rather  than  a  rationalist.  This  fact,  and 
also  the  fact  that  her  father  was  a  very  liberal 
writer,  have  availed  to  place  this  author 
among  Unitarians  ;  but  in  her  later  years  she 
is  said  to  have  become  a  Baptist.  Though 
her  other  writings  are  reported  as  having  been 
much  read,  poems  and  art  criticisms  having 
been  considered  quite  valuable,  nothing  has 
come  across  the  sea  into  popular  recognition 
except  this  piece,  which  is  indeed  more  a 
poem  than  a  hymn.     It  first  appeared  in  the 


296 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


volume  published  by  her  pastor,  entitled 
Hymtis  and  Anthems,  1 841.  To  this  Mrs. 
Adams  contributed  no  less  than  thirteen 
poems,  and  her  sister  sixty-two  tunes.  This 
hymn  is  a  descriptive  and  imaginative  accom- 
modation of  the  story  of  Jacob's  dream  at 
Bethel ;  it  has  too  many  verses  to  be  sung  at 
a  time,  and  yet  one  finds  the  task  exceedingly 
awkward  to  make  a  selection  of  stanzas  with- 
out a  break  in  the  sentiment.  The  compilers 
of  The  Baptist  Hynm-Book,  published  in 
England,  did  not  relish  so  conspicuous  an 
o  nission  of  all  evangelical  ascription  or  ad- 
dress to  the  Saviour,  and  caused  that  one 
more  verse  should  be  added  by  the  Rev.  A. 
T.  Russell,  commencing,  "  Christ  alone  bear- 
eth  me." 

68  i  "  More  love."  6s,  4s. 

More  love  to  thee,  O  Christ, 

More  love  to  thee  ! 
Hear  thou  the  prayer  I  make 

On  bended  knee ; 
This  is  my  earnest  plea — 
More  love,  O  Christ,  to  thee, 

More  love  to  thee ! 

2  Once  earthly  joy  I  craved, 
Sought  peace  and  rest ; 

Now  thee  alone  I  seek — 

Give  what  is  best ; 
This  all  my  prayer  shall  be — 
More  love,  O  Christ,  to  thee, 

More  love  to  thee  ! 

3  Let  sorrow  do  its  work, 
Send  grief  and  pain; 

Sweet  are  thy  messengers. 

Sweet  their  refrain, 
When  they  can  sing  with  me, 
More  love,  O  Christ,  to  thee, 

More  love  to  thee  ! 

4  Then  shall  my  latest  breath 
Whisper  thy  praise, 

This  be  the  parting  cry 

My  heart  shall  raise ; 
This  still  its  prayer  shall  be — 
More  love,  O  Christ,  to  thee, 

More  love  to  thee  ! 

When  we  look  upon  one  of  our  favorite 
authors  in  the  light  only  of  a  writer  of  reli- 
gious poetry  we  are  apt  to  give  an  illustration 
of  what  has  sometimes  been  called  "  the  love 
of  investiture."  We  invest  the  hymn  we  are 
fond  of  with  all  the  excellences  of  the  author. 
Those  who  have  read  Stepping  Heavenward 
and  The  Flower  of  the  Faintly  will  not  need 
to  have  been  personally  acquainted  with  the 
lady  who  wrote  them  in  order  to  give  her  the 
highest  and  heartiest  regard. 

Mrs.  Elizabeth  Payson  Prentiss  was  the 
daughter  of  Rev.  Dr.  Edward  Payson,  whose 
biography  is  in  all  our  homes  and  whose 
fame  has  gone  over  the  world.  She  was 
born  in  Portland,  Me.,  October  26,  1818. 
Those  who  knew  her  intimately  are  wont  to 
speak  of  her  exquisitely  trained  mind,  her  fine 


6s,  4s. 


MRS.    ELIZABETH    PAVSON    PRENTISS. 

literary  taste,  and  her  intensely  sympathetic 
religious  feeling.  She  became  the  wife  of 
Rev.  George  L.  Prentiss,  D.  D.,  at  the  time  he 
was  a  pastor,  in  1845.  He  is  now  a  profes- 
sor in  the  Union  Theological  Seminary  of 
New  York  city.  This  hymn  was  printed  on 
a  slip  in  1869,  and  came  prominently  into  no- 
tice the  next  year  as  a  favorite  in  all  the  won- 
derful meetings  of  the  revival  which  swept 
over  the  land  and  the  world.  Mrs.  Prentiss 
was  never  ver>'  robust  in  health,  and  fre- 
quently an  invalid.  She  died  at  her  summer 
residence  in  Dorset,  Vt.,  August  13,  1878. 

032  "  -^  ^<y  '^O*  kne-ai  not." 

Saviour!  I  follow  on. 

Guided  by  thee, 
Seeing  not  yet  the  hand 

That  leadeth  me ; 
Hushed  be  my  heart  and  still. 
Fear  I  no  further  ill ; 
Only  to  meet  thy  will 

My  will  shall  be. 

2  Riven  the  rock  for  me 
Thirst  to  relieve, 

Manna  from  heaven  falls 

Fresh  every  eve ; 
Never  a  want  severe 
Causeth  my  eye  a  tear, 
But  thou  dost  whisper  near, 

"  Only  believe!" 

3  Often  to  Marah's  brink 
Have  I  been  brought ; 

Shrinking  the  cup  to  drink. 

Help  I  nave  sought ; 
And  with  the  prayer's  ascent, 
Jesus  the  branch  hath  rent — 
Quickly  relief  hath  sent. 

Sweetening  the  draught. 

4  Saviour !  I  long  to  walk 
Closer  with  thee ; 

Led  by  thy  guiding  hand 
Ever  to  be ; 


CONFLICT   WITH   SIN, 


297 


Constantly  near  thy  side, 
Quickened  and  purified, 
Living  for  him  who  died 
Freely  for  me ! 

From  Appleton's  Cyclopaedia  of  American 
Biography  these  data  are  obtained :  Rev. 
Charles  Seymour  Robinson,  D.  D.,  LL.  D., 
was  born  in  Bennington,  Vt.,  March  31,  1829. 
He  was  educated  at  Williams  College,  and 
studied  theology  for  a  year  in  New  York  city, 
finishing  his  course  at  Princeton,  N.  J.  He 
was  ordained  to  the  ministry,  April  19,  1855, 


CHARLES  SEYMOUR  ROBINSON. 

and  became  pastor  of  the  Park  Presbyterian 
Church  in  Troy,  N.  Y.  In  i860  he  was 
called  to  the  First  Presbyterian  Church  in 
Brooklyn,  where  he  remained  pastor  until 
1868.  At  that  time  he  became  the  minister 
of  the  American  Chapel  in  Paris;  establishing 
the  organic  Church  there  by  the  union  of  the 
Christian  denominations  in  the  French  capi- 
tal. Coming  home  in  1870,  he  assumed  the 
pastoral  care  of  the  Madison  Avenue  Presby- 
terian Church  in  New  York  city  ;  there  he 
labored  for  seventeen  years,  resigning  in  1 887 
to  go  into  literary  work.  He  was  editor  of 
The  Christian  Weekly  in  1877,  and  of  Every 
Thursday  in  1890.  He  received  the  degree 
of  D.  D.  from  Hamilton  College,  1867,  and 
that  of  LL.  D.  from  Lafayette,  1885.  After 
some  years  of  book-making  and  newspaper 
work,  Dr.  Robinson  returned  to  the  pastorate; 
he  was  engaged  in  the  Thirteenth  Street 
Presbyterian  Church,  in  New  York  city,  re- 
signing the  charge  in  1892.  He  is  now  the 
pastor  of  the  New  York  Presbyterian  Church 
in  New  York  city. 


In  this  annotation  it  is  not  worth  while  to 
mention  the  religious  and  literary  volumes 
this  writer  has  published.  It  can  be  of  inter- 
est only  that  the  somewhat  unusual  amount 
of  his  work  in  the  line  of  hymnology  should 
be  stated.  Songs  of  the  Church  was  issued 
in  1862  ;  Songs  for  the  Sanctuary,  1865  ; 
Psalms  and  Hymns,  now  the  official  hymnal 
of  the  Southern  Presbyterian  Church,  1875; 
and  that  same  year  for  the  American  Sunday - 
School  Union,  Calvary  Songs.  In  1878  ap- 
peared Spiritual  Songs  for  Church  and 
Choir  ;  in  1 884  Laudes  Domini,  and  in  1 892 
The  New  Laudes  Domini.  Others  for 
prayer-meeting  and  Sunday-school,  ten  or 
fifteen  in  all,  have  also  befen  added  to  the  list 
along  the  years,  and  several  collections  com- 
piled for  other  denominations. 

683  "  Something  for  Thee."  6s,  4s. 

Saviour,  thy  dying  love 

Thou  gavest  me  : 
Nor  should  I  aught  withhold. 

Dear  Lord,  from  thee: 
In  love  my  soul  would  bow, 
My  heart  fulfill  its  vow. 
Some  oflTering  bring  thee  now, 

Something  for  thee. 

2  O'er  the  blest  mercy-seat, 
Pleading  for  me, 

My  feeble  faith  looks  up, 

Jesus,  to  thee : 
.  Help  me  the  cross  to  bear. 
Thy  wondrous  love  declare. 
Some  song  to  raise,  or  prayer, 

Somethmg  for  thee. 

3  Give  me  a  faithful  heart — 
Likeness  to  thee, 

That  each  departing  day 

Henceforth  may  see 
Some  work  of  love  begun. 
Some  deed  of  kindness  done, 
Some  wanderer  sought  and  won. 

Something  for  thee. 

4  All  that  I  am  and  have — 
Thy  ^ifts  so  free — 

In  joy,  in  grief,  through  life, 

Dear  Lord,  (or  thee : 
And  when  thv  face  I  see. 
My  ransomed  soul  shall  be, 
Through  all  eternity. 

Something  for  thee. 

In  a  note  addressed  to  us,  September  15, 
1 89 1,  the  author  of  the  hymn  before  us  de- 
sires that  his  name  should  be  announced  as 
Rev.  S.  Dryden  Phelps,  and  that  in  all  fur- 
ther use  of  the  piece  in  hymnals  of  the 
churches  the  third  line  of  the  second  stanza 
should  be  made  to  read,  "  Upward  in  faith  I 
look,"  and  the  fourth  line  of  the  last  verse 
should  also  be  made  to  read,  "  My  Lord,  for 
thee."  These  changes  have  been  suggested 
by  his  own  taste,  and  it  is  evidently  proper 
that  they  should  be  heeded.  But  they  cannot 
now  be  introduced  into  the  publications  al- 
ready in  use,  for  they  would  destroy  the  uni- 
formity in  singing. 


298 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


S.  DRYDEN   PHELPS,  D.  D. 

Rev.  S.  Dryden  Phelps,  D.  D.,  was  bom  at 
Suffield,  Conn.,  May  15,  1816,  graduated  at 
Brown  University  in  1844,  and  soon  after- 
ward entered  the  ministr)'.  His  first  charge 
was  over  the  First  Baptist  Church,  New 
Haven,  Conn.,  where  he  remained  twenty- 
eight  years.  In  1876  he  became  the  pastor  of 
the  Jefferson  Street  Baptist  Church  in  Prov- 
idence, R.  I.,  and  also  the  editor  of  The  Chris- 
tian Secretary,  published  in  Hartford. 

This  hymn  was  written  in  1862,  and  was 
earliest  published  in  The  Watchinan  and 
Reflector.  It  has  had  a  deser\'edly  wide  cir- 
culation in  many  lands,  being  really  one  of 
the  best  that  ever  found  its  way  out  of  the 
Sunday-School  collections  into  the  more 
stately  senices  of  the  house  of  God.  It  is 
known  everyAvhere  now,  and  has  been  help- 
ful to  all  the  children  of  the  kingdom,  having 
different  names,  but  one  heart. 


684  The  Narrow  Way. 

Lord,  thy  children  guide  and  keep, 

As  with  feeble  steps  they  press 
On  the  pathway  rough  and  steep 

Through  this'  weary  wilderness  : 
Holy  Jesus !  day  by  day 
Lead  us  in  the  narrow  way. 

2  There  are  sandy  wastes  that  lie 
Cold  and  sunless,  vast  and  drear, 

Where  the  feeble  faint  and  die ; 
Grant  us  grace  to  persevere : 

Holy  Jesus !  day  by  day 

Lead  us  in  the  narrow  way. 


3  There  are  soft  and  flowery  glades, 
Decked  with  golden-fruitea  trees — 

Sunny  slopes,  and  scented  shades ; 

Keep  us,  Lord,  from  slothful  ease : 
Holy  Jesus!  day  by  day 
Lead  us  in  the  narrow  way. 

4  Upward  still  to  purer  heights. 
Onward  yet  to  scenes  more  blest, 

Calmer  regions,  clearer  lights. 

Till  we  reach  the  promised  rest — 
Holy  Jesus  !  day  by  day 
Lead  us  in  the  narrow  way. 

Rev.  William  Walsham  How,  D.  D.,  is 
the  author  of  this  piece.  One  wonders 
whether  the  composers  of  lyric  poetr)'  on  the 
other  side  of  the  ocean,  consciously  or 
unconsciously,  are  gliding  into  the  refrain 
in  their  forms  of  expression.  Here  we  have 
a  text,"  Narrow  is  the  way  which  leadeth 
unto  life,"  Matthew  7  :  14,  thrown  into  the 
last  line  of  each  of  these  stanzas.  The  mind 
loves  to  be  caught  with  the  recurrence  of  a 
sentiment  thus.  The  hymn  is  very  popular 
wherever  it  is  known ;  it  was  first  published 
in  Morell  and  How's  Psalms  and  Hymns, 
1854. 

685  Backsliding  confessed.  7s,  61. 

On'CE  I  thought  my  mountain  strong, 
Firmly  fixed  no  more  to  move ; 

Then  my  Saviour  was  my  song, 
Then  my  soul  was  filled  with  love ; 

Those  were  happy,  golden  days. 

Sweetly  spent  in  prayer  and  praise. 

2  Little  then  myself  I  Itnew, 
Little  thought  of  Satan's  power; 

Now  I  feel  my  sins  anew  ; 

Now  I  feel  the  stormy  hour ! 
Sin  has  put  my  joys  to  flight; 
Sin  has  turned  my  day  to  night. 

3  Saviour,  shine  and  cheer  my  soul, 
Bid  my  dying  hopes  revive  ; 

Make  my  w'ounded  spirit  whole, 

Far  away  the  tempter  drive ; 
Speak  the  word  anci  set  me  free, 
Let  me  live  alone  to  thee. 

In  the  Olney  Hymns,  1779,  there  is  one 
poem  by  Rev.  John  Newton  beginning  with 
the  line,"  Saviour,  shine,  and  cheer  my  soul." 
From  this  have  been  chosen  the  verses  which 
make  up  the  familiar  hymn  before  us.  Like 
most  of  the  heart-songs  of  this  beloved  singer 
in  the  church,  this  piece  records  a  season  of 
personal  experience. 


7S,  61.       686  Acknowledgment. 

Chosen  not  for  good  in  me. 
Waked  from  coming  wrath  to  flee. 
Hidden  in  the  Saviour's  side, 
By  the  Spirit  sanctified — 
Teach  me.  Lord,  on  earth  to  show. 
By  my  love,  how  much  I  owe. 

2  Oft  I  walk  beneath  the  cloud, 
Dark  as  midnight's  gloomy  shroud : 
But,  when  fear  is  at  the  height, 
Jesus  comes,  and  all  is  light ; 
Blessed  Jesus  !  bid  me  show 
Doubting  saints  how  much  I  owe. 


7S,  61. 


CONFLICT  WITH   SIN. 


299 


3  Oft  the  nights  of  sorrow  reign — 
Weeping,  sickness,  signing,  pain ; 
But  a  night  thine  anj^er  burns — 
Morning  comes,  and  joy  returns  : 
God  of  comforts  !  bid  me  show 
To  thy  poor  how  much  I  owe. 

Rev.  Robert  Murray  McCheyne  is  the  author 
of  this  hymn.  He  pubUshed  a  poem  entitled 
"  I  am  Debtor,"  in  the  Scottish  Christian 
Herald,  May  20,  1837,  the  first  Hne  of  which 
was,  "  When  this  passing  world  is  done." 
From  this  the  verses  usually  sung  in  the 
American  churches  were  compiled. 

The  author  was  born  in  Edinburgh,  Scot- 
land, May  21,  1 81 3,  and  educated  at  the  Uni- 
versity there.  In  July,  1835,  he  was  licensed  to 
preach,  and,  November  24,  1836,  he  was  or- 
dained as  pastor  over  the  congregation  of  St. 
Peter's  Church,  Dundee.  In  1839  he  went  to 
Palestine  as  one  of  a  deputation  from  the 
Presbyterian  General  Assembly,  on  a  "  Mission 
of  Inquiry'  to  the  Jews." 

This  beloved  man  was  famous  without  sus- 
pecting the  reach  of  his  reputation ;  for  he 
was  famed  for  his  spirituality  and  heavenly- 
mindedness  beyond  most  of  his  generation. 
Many  of  those  who  knew  him  spoke  of  him 
affectionately  as  the  "  saintly  "  pastor  at  Dun- 
dee. He  was  converted  early  by  the  death  of 
an  older  brother ;  this  awakened  him  to  a 
sense  of  his  ruin  as  a  sinner,  and  the  awful- 
ness  of  dying  when  one's  peace  had  not  been 
made  with  God.  This  brother  found  at  the 
last  the  peace  of  a  perfect  trust  in  the  Saviour ; 
but  for  months  of  this  sickness  he  suffered 
terrible  agonies  of  penitence  and  remorse,  of 
gloom  and  fear.  The  piety  of  that  day  in 
Scotland  was  of  a  low  type.  It  was  reported 
of  the  students  in  the  Divinity  Hall,  though 
they  had  Dr.  Chalmers  and  Dr.  Welsh  to  be 
their  teachers,  that  they  "  broke  the  Sabbath, 
danced,  and  played  cards."  But  the  young 
McCheyne  kept  on  reading  Legh  Richmond's 
life,  and  reminiscences  of  Henry  Martyn,  pray- 
ing often  and  subduing  self,  and  so  held  on 
his  way  towards  holiness.  His  biography  has 
been  a  power  for  good  over  the  whole  world. 
He  died  at  Dundee,  not  long  after  his  return 
from  the  Holy  Land,  March  25,  1843.  He  was 
worn  out  with  labors  oft.  His  soul  was  so 
subdued  with  zeal  that  even  his  physical  frame 
seemed  burning  away  under  the  flame  of  it. 
He  was  glad  at  last  to  go ;  he  cried  out  as  he 
died,  "  My  soul  is  escaped  as  a  bird  out  of  the 
snare  of  the  fowler ;  the  snare  is  broken,  and 
I  am  escaped  !" 


087  "'It  "  well." 

What  our  Father  does  is  well ; 
Blessfed  truth  his  children  tell ! 


7s,  61. 


Though  he  send,  for  plenty,  want, 
Though  the  harvest  store  be  scant, 
Yet  we  rest  upon  his  love, 
Seeking  better  things  above. 

2  What  our  Father  does  is  well ; 
Shall  the  willful  heart  rebel? 

If  a  blessing  he  withhold 
In  the  field,  or  in  the  fold, 
Is  it  not  himself  to  be 
All  our  store  eternally  ? 

3  What  our  Father  does  is  well ; 
May  the  thought  within  us  dwell ; 
Though  nor  milk  nor  honey  flow 
In  our  barren  Canaan  now, 

God  can  save  us  in  our  need, 
God  can  bless  us,  God  can  feed. 

4  Therefore  unto  him  we  raise 
Hymns  of  glory,  songs  of  praise; 
To  the  Father,  and  the  Son, 
And  the  Spirit,  Three  in  One, 
Honor,  might,  and  glory  be. 
Now,  and  through  eternity ! 

This  is  presented  to  us  as  a  translation  by 
Sir  Henry  Williams  Baker  in  Hymns,  An- 
cient and  Modern,  1 86 1.  The  original  Ger- 
man piece,  "  Was  Gott  thut  das  ist  wohlge- 
than,"  was  composed  by  Benjamin  Schmolck 
and  published  in  his  Schmuck  und  Aschc, 
17 1 7,  and  subsequently  in  his  Freuden-Oel  in 
Traurigkeit,  Breslau,  1720.  It  was  entitled 
"  The  Contented  Heart  in  a  Scanty  Harv^est." 
The  doxology  is  the  work  of  the  translator. 
Rev.  Benjamin  Schmolck  was  a  Silesian,  born 
December  21,  1672,  and  one  of  the  most 
popular  poets  of  Germany.  He  became  pas- 
tor in  Brauchitzchdorf,  and  died  on  the  anni- 
versary of  his  wedding,  February  12,  1737. 
He  wrote  many  excellent  hymns,  with  a  wide 
reach  of  subjects,  and  characterized  by  deep 
devotion  and  piety. 

683  "  Give  us  thy  peace."  7S,  61. 

Lord  of  mercy  and  of  might, 

God  and  Father  of  us  all, 
Lord  of  day,  and  Lord  of  night, 

Listen  to  our  solemn  call : 
Listen,  whilst  to  thee  we  raise 
Songs  of  prayer  and  songs  of  praise. 

2  Shed  within  our  hearts,  oh,  shed 
Thine  own  Spirit's  living  flame — 

Love  for  all  whom  thou  hast  made, 
Love  for  all  who  love  thy  name : 
Young  and  old  together  bless. 
Clothe  our  souls  with  righteousness. 

3  Father,  give  to  us  thy  peace  : 
May  our  life  on  earth  be  blest ; 

When  our  trials  here  shall  cease. 

May  we  enter  into  rest — 
Rest  within  our  home  above. 
Thee  to  praise,  and  thee  to  love. 

This  piece  appears  as  No.  1199  in  the  Sup- 
plement to  the  Congregational  Hymn-Book, 
published  by  the  Congregational  Union  of 
England  and  Wales,  1868.  It  has  there  no 
name  attached  to  it ;  only  the  reference  to 
James   1:17:   "Every  good   gift  and  every 


300 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


perfect  gift  is  from  above,  and  cometti  down 
from  the  Father  of  lights."  From  this  source 
it  was  copied  for  Laudes  Domini,  in  1884, 
and  issued  as  anonymous.  Subsequently  we 
found  it  credited  to  Bishop  Heber,  and  with- 
out much  thought  added  his  name  in  the 
edition  of  1887.  But  Heber's  hymn,  com- 
mencing with  the  same  line,  is  far  different 
from  this  in  theme,  construction,  and  meter, 
and  is  included  in  another  division  of  the 
book.  Who  wrote  the  one  now  before  us 
we  cannot  tell.  It  is  not  so  much  as  men- 
tioned in  the  Dictionary  of  Hymnology ,  nor 
in  English  Hymns. 

689  ''Where  is  the  blessedness."  C.  M. 

Sweet  was  the  time  when  first  I  felt 
The  Saviour's  pardoning  blood 

Applied  to  cleanse  my  soul  from  guilt, 
And  bring  me  home  to  God. 

2  Soon  as  the  morn  the  light  revealed. 
His  praises  tuned  my  tongue; 

And,  when  the  evening  shade  prevailed, 
His  love  was  all  my  song. 

3  In  prayer,  my  love  drew  near  the  Lord, 
And  saw  his  glory  shine ; 

And  when  I  read  his  holy  word, 
I  called  each  promise  mine. 

4  Now,  when  the  evening  shade  prevails, 
My  soul  in  darkness  mourns ; 

And  when  the  morn  the  light  reveals, 
No  light  to  me  returns. 

5  Rise,  Saviour  !  help  me  to  prevail. 
And  make  my  soul  thy  care; 

1  know  thy  mercy  cannot  fail. 
Let  me  that  mercy  share. 

Once  more  we  are  let  into  the  heart  of 
Rev.  John  Newton's  deepest  experience. 
There  must  have  been  seasons  in  which  this 
man,  once  a  profligate,  felt  the  rush  over  him 
of  his  old  passions,  bearing  him  down  with 
an  overwhelming  power.  Paul  cried  out  un- 
der the  same  conflict  (Romans  7  :  22-24),  ^^^ 
longed  for  deliverance.  The  piece  is  found 
in  the  Olney  Hymns,  1779;  it  is  No.  43  in 
Book  I.  There  it  has  eight  stanzas,  and  re- 
fers to  Job  29 :  2  :  "  Oh,  that  I  were  as  in 
months  past !  "  There  is  no  relief  from  the 
stress  save  in  the  importunate  prayer  :  "  Rise, 
Saviour  !  help  me  to  prevail." 

690  "IVhat  hourly  dangers!"  C.  M. 

Alas  !  what  hourly  dangers  rise ! 

What  snares  beset  my  way  ! 
To  heaven,  oh,  let  me  lift  mine  eyes. 

And  hourly  watch  and  pray. 

2  How  oft  my  mournful  thoughts  complain 
And  melt  in  flowing  tears  ! 

My  weak  resistance,  ah,  how  vain  ! 
How  strong  my  foes  and  fears  ! 

3  O  gracious  God  !  in  whom  I  live. 
My  feeble  efforts  aid  ; 

Help  me  to  watch,  and  pray,  and  strive. 
Though  trembling  and  afraid. 


4  Increase  my  faith,  increase  my  hope. 
When  foes  and  fears  prevail ; 

And  bear  my  fainting  spirit  up. 
Or  soon  my  strength  will  fail. 

5  Oh,  keep  me  in  thy  heavenly  way. 
And  bid  the  tempter  flee ! 

And  let  me  never,  never  stray 
From  happiness  and  thee. 

In  Miss  Anne  Steele's  book  of  Poems, 
published  in  1760  under  the  name  of  "  Theo- 
dosia,"  this  piece  appeared  with  the  title 
"  Watchfulness  and  Prayer."  It  was  in- 
spired by  Christ's  command,  "  Watch  and 
pray,  that  ye  enter  not  into  temptation,"  and 
is  a  petition  for  divine  help  in  the  daily  war- 
fare against  sin.  An  old  picture  represents 
the  Christian  in  three  attitudes.  He  is 
represented  as  a  little  child,  and  upon  his  lips 
are  the  words,  "  I  learn,"  He  is  represented 
as  a  laborer,  with  spade  in  hand,  and  upon 
his  lips  are  the  words,  "  I  work."  He  is 
represented  as  a  soldier,  clad  in  armor,  and 
his  motto  is,  "I  fight."  Such  a  life  is  to  be 
that  of  each  follower  of  Christ.  Sitting  at 
the  feet  of  Jesus,  he  must  seek  divine  in- 
struction in  Holy  Scripture.  With  all  dili- 
gence he  must  work  the  works  of  him  that 
sent  him.  He  must  likewise  be  a  soldier, 
and  war  a  good  warfare. 

A  story  is  told  of  an  old  man  who  lived 
long  ago ;  forcible  was  the  way  in  which  he 
spoke  of  the  struggles  he  had  to  carry  on.  A 
friend  asked  him  the  cause  of  his  complaints, 
since  in  the  evening  he  so  often  complained 
of  great  weariness  and  pain.  "Alas,"  an- 
swered he,  "  I  have  every  day  so  much  to  do  ; 
I  have  two  falcons  to  tame,  two  hares  to 
keep  from  running  away,  two  hawks  to 
manage,  a  serpent  to  confine,  a  lion  to  chain, 
and  a  sick  man  to  tend  and  wait  upon." 
"  Why,  this  is  only  folly,"  said  the  friend  ;  "no 
man  has  all  these  things  to  do  at  once." 
"  Yet,  indeed,"  he  answered,  "  it  is  with  me 
as  I  have  said.  The  two  falcons  are  my  two 
eyes,  which  I  must  diligently  guard,  lest 
something  should  please  them  which  may  be 
hurtful  to  my  salvation  ;  the  two  hares  are  my 
feet,  which  I  must  hold  back,  lest  they  should 
run  after  evil  objects  and  walk  in  the  ways  of 
sin  ;  the  two  hawks  are  my  two  hands,  which 
I  must  train  and  keep  to  work,  in  order  that 
I  may  be  able  to  provide  for  myself  and  for 
my  brethren  who  are  in  need ;  the  serpent  is 
my  tongue,  which  I  must  always  keep  in  with 
a  bridle,  lest  it  should  speak  anything  un- 
seemly ;  the  lion  is  my  heart,  with  which  I 
have  to  maintain  a  continual  fight,  in  order 
that  vanity  and  pride  may  not  fill  it,  but  that 
the  grace  of  God  may  dwell  atpd  work  there ; 
the  sick  man  is  my  own  bodv,  which  is  ever 


CONFLICT  WITH   SIN. 


301 


needing  my  watchfulness  and  care.  All  this 
daily  wears  out  my  strength."  The  friend 
listened  with  wonder,  and  then  said  :  "  Dear 
brother,  if  all  men  labored  and  struggled 
after  this  manner,  the  times  would  be  better, 
and  more  according  to  the  will  of  God." 

691  '' Nearer  to  thee."  CM. 

Oh,  could  1  find,  from  day  to  day, 

A  nearness  to  my  God, 
Then  would  my  hours  glide  sweet  away 

While  leaning  on  his  word. 

2  Lord,  I  desire  with  thee  to  live 
Anew  from  day  to  day. 

In  joys  the  world  can  never  give. 
Nor  ever  take  away. 

3  Blest  Jesus,  come  and  rule  my  heart. 
And  make  me  wholly  thine, 

That  I  may  never  more  depart, 
Nor  grieve  thy  love  divine. 

4  Thus,  till  my  last  expiring  breath. 
Thy  goodness  I  '11  adore  ; 

And  when  my  frame  dissolves  in  death. 
My  soul  shall  love  thee  more. 

The  authorship  of  this  hymn  was  traced  by 
S.  Dryden  Phelps,  of  Hartford,  Conn.,  to 
Benjamin  Cleveland,  of  whom  very  little  is 
known.  He  is  said  to  have  been  born  in 
Windham,  Conn.,  in  1733,  but  moved  from 
Connecticut  to  Nova  Scotia  after  the  expul- 
sion of  the  Acadians,  and  died  there  at  Wolf- 
ville  in  1811.  This  hymn  originally  had  six 
stanzas,  which  were  published  in  an  altered 
form  in  the  Hartford  Selection,  1799.  Mr. 
Cleveland  is  supposed  to  have  been  an 
American  Baptist,  and  a  small  book  of  his 
hymns  was  issued  in  1790  in  Norwich,  but 
this  seems  to  be  the  only  one  which  has  re- 
mained in  common  use. 

692  God's  plan  for  us.  C.  M.  61. 

Father,  I  know  that  all  my  life 

Is  portioned  out  for  nie  ; 
The  changes  that  will  surely  come 

I  do  not  fear  to  see  : 

1  ask  thee  for  a  present  mind. 
Intent  on  pleasing  thee. 

2  I  ask  thee  for  a  thoughtful  love. 
Through  constant  watching  wise, 

To  meet  the  glad  with  joyful  smiles, 
•  And  wipe  the  weeping  eyes  ; 

A  heart  at  leisure  from  itself 
To  soothe  and  sympathize. 

3  I  would  not  have  the  restle.ss  will 
That  hurries  to  and  fro, 

Seeking  for  some  great  thing  to  do. 

Or  secret  thing  to  know  : 
I  would  be  treated  as  a  child. 

And  guided  where  I  go. 

4  I  ask  thee  for  the  daily  strength. 
To  none  that  ask  denied, 

A  mind  to  blend  with  outward  life, 

While  keeping  at  thy  side  ; 
Content  to  fill  a  little  space. 

If  thou  be  glorified. 

Familiar  as  this  hymn  is,  we  never  tire  of 
it.     It  is  such  a  rest  to  feel  that  the  planning 


of  one's  life  is  left  to  omnipotent  direction, 
and  that  with  God's  guidance  all  the  lions  in 
the  way  may  be  overcome.  Miss  Anna 
Lcetitia  Waring,  the  author,  was  born  at 
Neath,  Glamorganshire,  South  Wales,  in 
1820,  where,  according  to  the  only  informa- 
tion obtainable,  she  is  still  living.  She  has 
written  many  beautiful  songs,  which  are  in 
general  use  on  both  sides  of  the  sea,  and  it  is 
from  her  Hymns  and  Meditations,  1850,  that 
the  present  piece  is  taken.  There  it  has  eight 
stanzas  of  six  lines  each,  and  is  entitled  "  My 
times  are  in  thy  hand."  Though  critics  com- 
plain of  the  faultiness  of  the  rhythm,  yet  in 
Anglican  Hymnology  it  has  been  deemed 
worthy  a  place  as  a  Third  Rank  hymn  of  the 
future. 

693  "  A  pierced  Hand."  C.  M. 

When,  wounded  sore,  the  stricken  soul 

Lies  bleeding  and  unbound. 
One  only  hand,  a  pierc6d  hand. 

Can  heal  the  sinner's  wound. 

2  When  sorrow  swells  the  laden  breast, 
And  tears  of  anguish  flow. 

One  only  heart,  a  broken  heart, 
Can  feel  the  sinner's  woe. 

3  When  penitence  has  wept  in  vain 
Over  some  foul,  dark  spot, 

One  only  stream,  a  stream  of  blood, 
Can  wash  away  the  blot. 

4  'T  is  Jesus'  blood  that  washes  white. 
His  hand  that  brings  relief; 

His  heart  that  's  touched  with  all  our  joys. 
And  feeleth  for  our  grief. 

5  Lift  up  thy  bleeding  hand,  O  Lord  I 
Unsesd  that  cleansing  tide  ; 

We  have  no  shelter  from  our  sin 
But  in  thy  wounded  side. 

We  welcome  here  another  of  the  Hymns, 
Descriptive  and  Devotional,  which  Mrs.  Ce- 
cil Frances  Alexander  published  in  1858.  It 
is  a  curious,  but  most  effective,  impression 
which  is  produced  upon  our  minds  by  the 
thought  that  the  hand  which  punishes  our 
transgressions,  and  inflicts  our  disciplines,  is 
the  very  hand  that  was  pierced  on  the  cross 
to  secure  our  pardon,  and  to  comfort  us  with 
sympathy  and  help.  Christ  is  the  only  Sa- 
viour. 

694  All  for  Jesus.  7s.  D. 

Take  my  life,  and  let  it  be 
Consecrated,  Lord,  to  thee. 
Take  my  hands,  and  let  them  move 
At  the  impulse  of  thy  love. 
Take  my  feet,  and  let  them  be 
Swift  and  beautiful  for  thee. 
Take  my  voice  and  let  me  sing 
Always,  only,  for  my  King. 

2  Take  my  lips,  and  let  them  be 
Filled  with  messages  from  thee, 
Take  my  silver  and  my  gold, 
Not  a  mite  would  I  withhold  ; 
Take  my  moments  and  my  days, 
Let  them  flow  in  ceaseless  praise. 
Take  my  intellect,  and  use 
Every  power  as  thou  shall  choose. 


302 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


3  Take  my  will,  and  make  it  thine ; 
It  shall  be  no  longer  mine. 
Take  my  heart,  it  is  thine  own  ! 
It  shall  be  thy  royal  throne. 
Take  my  love ;  my  Lord,  I  pour 
At  thy  feet  its  treasure-store; 
Take  myself,  and  I  will  be, 
Ever,  only,  all,  for  thee ! 

It  seems  as  if  the  whole  American  Church 
would  bid  a  joyous  welcome  to  this  well- 
known  and  deeply-suggestive  "  Consecration 
hymn "  of  Miss  Frances  Ridley  Havergal, 
written  at  Areley  House,  February  4,  1874. 
It  is  a  wonder  that  it  has  not  found  its  way 
earlier  into  the  collections.  The  title  given 
to  it  here  in  America  calls  to  mind  the  fact 
that  it  was  through  the  reading  of  a  volume 
entitled  All  for  Jesus,  this  small  book  which 
was  one  of  the  swaying  powers  of  her  whole 
life,  that  she  came  to  have  the  full  realization 
of  the  words  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and 
gave  her  all  in  surrender  to  him  :  "  He  that 
hath  my  commandments,  and  keepeth  them, 
he  it  is  that  loveth  me  ;  and  he  that  loveth  me 
shall  be  loved  of  my  Father,  and  I  will  love 
him,  and  will  manifest  myself  to  him." 

This  piece  was  written  in  an  outburst  of 
joy  that  she  had  been  made  instrumental  in 
the  conversion  of  certain  dear  friends.  It  ap- 
pears in  her  Loyal  Responses,  1 878.  Her  own 
account  of  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  its 
composition  is  given  by  her  sister  in  an  ex- 
tract from  one  of  her  letters  :  "  Perhaps  you 
will  be  interested  to  know  the  origin  of  the 
consecration  hymn,  '  Take  my  life.'  I  went 
for  a  little  visit  of  five  days.  There  were  ten 
persons  in  the  house,  some  unconverted  and 
long  prayed  for,  some  converted,  but  not  re- 
joicing Christians.  He  gave  me  the  prayer, 
'Lord,  give  me  all  in  this  house.'  And  he 
just  did!  Before  I  left  the  house  every  one 
had  got  a  blessing.  The  last  night  of  my 
visit  I  was  too  happy  to  sleep,  and  passed 
most  of  the  night  in  praise  and  renewal  of 
my  consecration ;  and  these  little  couplets 
formed  themselves,  and  chimed  in  my  heart 
one  after  another,  till  they  finished  with  '  ever 
— only — ALL — for  thee !'" 

695  A  hard  heart.  7s.  D. 

Oh,  this  soul,  how  dark  and  blind  ! 
Oh,  this  foolish,  earthly  mind  ! 
Oh,  this  froward,  selfish  will, 
Which  refuses  to  be  still ! 
Oh,  these  ever-roaming  eyes. 
Upward  that  refuse  to  rise  ! 
On,  these  wayward  feet  of  mine. 
Found  in  every  path  but  thine  ! 

2  Oh,  this  stubborn,  prayerless  knee, 
Hands  so  seldom  clasped  to  thee, 
Longings  of  the  soul,  that  go 
Like  the  wild  wind,  to  and  fro  ! 
To  and  fro,  without  an  aim. 
Turning  idly  whence  they  came, 
Bringing  in  no  joy,  no  bliss, 
Only  adding  weariness  ! 


3  Giver  of  the  heavenly  peace  ! 
Bid,  oh,  bid  these  tumults  cease; 
Minister  thy  holy  balm  ; 
Fill  me  with  thy  Spirit's  calm  : 
Thou,  the  Life,  the  Truth,  the  Way, 
Leave  me  not  in  sin  to  stay ; 
Bearer  of  the  sintier's  guilt. 
Lead  me,  lead  me,  as  thou  wilt. 

In  Rev.  Dr.  Horatius  Bonar's  Hymns  of 
Faith  and  Hope,  1864,  this  poem  is  found.  It 
is  the  lament  of  an  unsatisfied  soul  which  is 
conscious  of  its  own  sinfulness,  and  hears  the 
voice  of  God  remonstrating  with  it  in  the 
midst  of  worldly  pursuits.  You  sometimes 
enter  a  cabinet  of  curiosities  and  the  attend- 
ant proffers  you  a  large  beautiful  shell.  He 
tells  you  that,  if  you  put  it  to  your  ear,  you 
can  hear  the  moaning  of  the  ocean.  It  amuses 
you  to  make  the  trial;  sure  enough, you  seem 
listening  to  a  roar  of  waves  upon  the  rocks. 
Your  curiosity,  however,  is  most  arrested  by 
the  fact  that  you  hear  the  sound  only  when 
you  grasp  the  shell  yourself.  Perhaps  a  child 
would  imagine  that  it  holds  in  its  recesses 
memories  of  the  beach  it  came  from.  But  you 
inquire,  and  are  now  interested  to  be  informed 
that  the  noise  comes  not  out  of  any  peculiar- 
ity in  the  shell,  but  only  from  the  vibration  of 
your  own  fingers  around  on  the  outside  of  the 
hollow  convolutions,  as  the  tension  of  the 
muscles  grows  tremulous  under  the  pressure. 
So,  really,  what  you  hear  is  not  the  ocean  at 
all,  but  only  the  beat  and  pulse  of  your  own 
busy  life. 

Bear  away  with  you  a  profitable  thought 
from  this.  You  hold  up  God's  word  close  to 
your  ear ;  somebody  tells  you  it  is  full  of 
warning ;  you  perceive  the  dull  roar  of  retri- 
bution yourself ;  you  grow  pettish  if  another 
man  presses  it  harder.  But  all  this  while  ycu 
hear  the  moaning  of  a  solemn  admonition 
more  clearly  if  you  are  alone.  For  what  you 
hear  is  ]ust  your  own  heart  growing  prophetic 
of  evil  when  it  listens  to  the  voice  of  your 
own  life  telling  its  record  to  your  soul.  "  The 
wicked  man  travaileth  with  pain  all  his  days, 
and  the  number  of  years  is  hidden  to  the  op- 
pressor. A  dreadful  sound  is  in  his  ears  :  in 
prosperity  the  destroyer  shall  come  upon  him." 


Life's  Sea. 

Jesus,  Saviour,  pilot  me 
Over  life's  tempestuous  sea  ; 
Unknown  waves  before  me  roll. 
Hiding  rock  and  treacherous  shoal ; 
Chart  and  compass  came  from  thee: 
Jesus,  Saviour,  pilot  me. 

2  As  a  mother  stills  her  child. 
Thou  canst  hush  the  ocean  wild  ; 
Boisterous  waves  obey  thy  will 
When  thou  say'st  to  them' "  Be  still !" 
Wondrous  Sovereign  of  the  sea, 
Jesus,  Saviour,  pilot  me. 


7s.  a. 


CONFLICT   WITH    SIN. 


303 


3  When  at  last  I  near  the  shore, 
And  the  fearful  breakers  roar 
'Twixt  me  and  the  peaceful  rest, 
Then,  while  leaning  on  thy  breast, 
May  I  hear  thee  say  to  me, 
"  Fear  not,  I  will  pilot  thee!" 

The  author  of  this  hymn.  Rev.  Edward 
Hopper,  D.  D.,  was  born  in  the  city  of  New 
York  in  1818,  and  was  seventy  years  of  age 
when  he  died  on  April  23,  1888.  He  was  a 
graduate  of  New  York  University,  1839.  A 
brief  charge  at  Greenville,  N.  Y.,  commenced 
his  ministry,  after  his  theological  studies  were 
completed  in  Union  Seminary  and  he  had 
been  licensed  to  preach  by  the  Third  Presby- 
tery of  New  York.  He  was  a  child  of  this 
metropolis ;  after  a  second  pastorate  at  Sag 
Harbor,  on  Long  Island,  eleven  years  long, 
he  returned  to  his  native  city  and  became  the 
successful  and  popular  minister  of  the  Church 
of  the  Sea  and  Land,  the  care  of  which  he 
kept,  through  sunshine  and  shadow,  faithfully 
for  the  rest  of  his  life.  In  1871  Lafayette 
College  honored  him  with  the  degree  of 
Doctor  of  Divinity.  He  had  for  some  years 
been  suffering  from  heart-disease,  and  his 
decease  was  very  sudden.  He  was  found 
dead  in  his  study-chair;  he  had  evidently 
just  written  some  lines  on  "  Heaven,"  and 
his  pencil  still  lay  on  the  page  of  the  man- 
uscript. 

He  composed  many  hymns,  and  some  day, 
it  is  likely,  these  will  be  found  in  the  hymnals. 
But  he  was  very  modest,  and  concealed  poems 
of  rare  merit  under  quaint  names.  He  wrote 
much  for  sailors,  of  which  class  he  had  al- 
ways large  numbers  in  his  congregation. 
This  piece  was  first  published  in  the  Sailors 
Magazine  in  187 1.  It  found  its  way  by  its 
merit  into  a  forgotten  collection,  and  was 
copied  as  it  stood  anonymously  into  Spiritual 
Songs,  1878  ;  he  afterward  acknowledged  it. 


697 


The  Litany. 


8s,  7s,  4s. 


Jesus,  Lord  of  life  and  glor\-, 

Bend  from  heaven  thy  gracious  ear ; 

While  our  waiting  souls  adore  thee. 
Friend  of  helpless  sinners,  hear : 

By  thy  mercy, 
Oh,  deliver  us,  good  Lord. 

2  From  the  depths  of  nature's  blindness, 
From  the  hardening  power  of  sin. 

From  all  malice  and  unkindness, 
From  the  pride  that  lurks  within, 

By  thy  mercy, 
Oh,  deliver  us,  good  Lord. 

3  When  temptation  sorely  presses, 
In  the  day  of  Satan's  power, 

In  our  times  of  deep  distresses, 
In  each  dark  and  trying  hour 

By  thy  mercy, 
Oh,  deliver  us,  good  Lord. 

4  When  the  world  around  is  smiling. 
In  the  time  of  wealth  and  ease, 

Earthly  joys  our  hearts  beguiling, 


In  the  day  of  health  and  peace. 

By  thy  mercy, 
Oh,  deliver  us,  good  Lord. 

5  In  the  solemn  hour  of  dving,  ' 

In  the  awful  judgment-day, 
May  our  souls,  on  thee  relying. 

Find  thee  still  our  Hope  and  Stay : 
By  thy  mercy, 

Oh,  deliver  us,  good  Lord. 

"A  sweet  and  musical  litany,"  this  hymn 
has  been  called  ;  and  justly,  too.  Its  author, 
John  James  Cummins,  was  the  son  of  an 
Irish  merchant,  and  was  born  in  Cork,  Ire- 
land, May  5,  1795.  After  his  removal  to 
London  in  1834,  he  became  a  Director  of  the 
Union  Bank  of  Australia.  Besides  being  an 
earnest  student  of  Hebrew  and  theology,  he 
wrote  a  number  of  poems,  which  he  pub- 
lished in  1839  under  the  title  Seals  of  the 
Coijenant  Opened  in  the  Sacraments.  The 
piece  before  us  is  from  his  Hymns,  Medita- 
tions and  Other  Poems,  which  is  better 
known,  perhaps,  as  Lyra  Evangelica,  1849. 
He  died  at  Wildecroft,  Buckland,  Surrey, 
November  23,  1867. 

698  A  look  from  Christ.  6s,  5S. 

In  the  hour  of  trial, 

Jesus,  plead  for  me  ; 
Lest  by  base  denial 

I  depart  from  thee ; 
When  thou  see'st  me  waver, 

With  a  look  recall, 
Nor  for  fear  or  favor 

Suffer  me  to  fall. 

2  With  forbidden  pleasures 
Would  this  vain  world  charm  ; 

Or  its  sordid  treasures 

Spread  to  work  me  harm  ; 
Bring  to  my  remembrance 

Sad  Gethsemane, 
Or,  in  darker  semblance, 

Cross-crowned  Calvary. 

3  Should  thy  mercy  send  me 
Sorrow,  toil,  and  woe; 

Or  should  pain  attend  me 

On  my  path  below ; 
Grant  that  I  may  never 

Fail  thy  hand  to  see; 
Grant  that  I  may  ever 

Cast  my  care  on  thee. 

4  When  my  last  hour  cometh, 
Fraught  with  strife  and  pain, 

When  my  dust  returneth 

To  the  dust  again  ; 
On  thy  truth  relying 

Through  that  mortal  strife, 
Jesus,  take  me,  dying, 

To  eternal  life. 

The  meager  item  of  information  which 
comes  to  us  in  the  Dictionary  of  Hymnology, 
concerning  this  poem,  gives  no  small  interest 
to  its  composition.  We  are  told  that  James 
Montgomery  composed  it,  and  on  his  original 
manuscript  the  date  is  wTitten,  October  13, 
1834,  and  also  the  names  are  added  of 
twenty-two  persons  to  whom  he  sent  copies 


304 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


in  his  own  handwriting.  Since  the  first  issue 
of  the  hymn  several  alterations  have  at  times 
been  proposed,  and  so  several  versions  of  it 
are  in  the  hymnals.  The  one  before  us  is  the 
best,  without  doubt.  It  is  changed  less  than 
some  of  the  rest,  and  the  changes  are  all  for 
the  better.  Mrs.  Frances  A.  Hutton  gave  for 
Prebendary  Henry  Nollaston  Hutton's  Sup- 
plement and  Litanies  the  form  selected  for 
Laiides  Domini ;  but  we  have  accepted  the 
"  plead  for  "  from  Thring's  Collection  in  place 
of  the  "  help  thou  "  which  Mrs.  Hutton  offered 
to  relieve  the  unscriptural  petition  of  Mont- 
gomer}%  "  Jesus,  pray  for  me." 

699  Earnest  Longings.  6s,  5s. 

Pi'RER  yet,  and  purer 

I  would  be  in  mind. 
Dearer  yet  and  dearer 

Every  duty  find  : 
Hoping  still  and  trusting 

God  without  a  fear, 
Patiently  believing 

He  will  make  all  clear. 

2  Calmer  yet  and  calmer 
Trial  bear  and  pain. 

Surer  yet  and  surer 

Peace  at  last  to  gain ; 
Suffering  still  and  doing. 

To  his  will  resigned. 
And  to  God  subduing 

Heart  and  will  anamind. 

3  Higher  yet  and  higher 
Out  ot  clouds  and  night. 

Nearer  yet  and  nearer 

Rising  to  the  light — 
Oft  these  earnest  longings 

Swell  within  my  breast, 
Yet  their  inner  meanini 

Ne'er  can  be  expicj-.  •. 

The  authorship  of  this  poem  has  been 
ascribed  to  Goethe,  the  great  German  poet 
and  philosopher,  but  no  equivalent  for  the 
piece  is  to  be  found  among  his  works.  It  has 
become  endeared  to  many  from  its  simplicity 
and  sweetness  of  spirit,  united  with  earnest 
desire  for  growth  in  Christian  graces.  In  all 
processes  of  advancement  in  real  piety  there 
is  something  to  be  taken  away  and  something 
to  be  attained.  Spiritual  egotism  must  be 
rooted  out  earliest,  for  only  with  self-renuncia- 
tion can  the  divine  life  so  much  as  begin. 
True  grace  thrives  best  after  the  last  remnant 
of  our  conceit  is  gone.  Then  a  Christian 
actually  pities  and  prays  for  and  loves  his 
tormentors ;  like  the  woodman's  sandal-tree 
accepting  the  axe,  he  pours  forth  the  best 
odors  of  his  heart  even  on  the  sharp  edge  of 
the  accusation  which  wounds  him.  The  de- 
vout Burkitt  has  left  behind  him  the  record 
in  his  private  journal  that  there  were  certain 
persons  whom  he  knew  v.ho.  for  the  injuries 
they  had  done  him,  first  found  place  in  his 
prayers.      Conflict  makes    men    sober    and 


thoughtful ;  then  it  makes  them  gentle  and 
kind ;  then  it  makes  them  forbearing  and 
charitable. 

700  All  for  Jesus.  6s,  5s. 

Saviour,  blessed  Saviour, 

Listen  while  we  sin§^, 
Hearts  and  voices  raising 

Praises  to  our  King. 
All  we  have  we  offer, 

All  we  hope  to  be. 
Body,  soul,  and  spirit. 

All  we  yield  to  thee. 

2  Great  and  ever  greater 
Are  thy  mercies  here, 

True  and  everlasting 

Are  the  glories  there, 
Where  no  pain,  or  sorrow. 

Toil,  or  care  is  known, 
Where  the  angel-legions 

Circle  round  thy  throne. 

3  Dark  and  ever  darker 
Was  the  wintry  past ; 

Now  a  ray  of  gladness 

O'er  our  path  is  cast. 
Every  day  that  passeth. 

Every  hour  that  flies. 
Tells  of  love  unfeigned. 

Love  that  never  dies. 

4  Clearer  still  and  clearer 
Dawns  the  light  from  heaven. 

In  our  sadness  Dringing 

News  of  sin  forgiven. 
Life  has  lost  its  shadows. 

Pure  the  light  within  j 
Thou  hast  shed  thy  radiance 

On  a  world  of  sin. 

This  processional  was  written  by  Rev. 
Godfrey  Thring  for  his  Hymns  Congregational 
and  Others,  1866.  It  has  the  double  stanzas, 
and  is  entitled  "  Pressing  Onwards."  Usually 
it  is  divided  in  our  American  collections, 
sometimes  beijinning  with  one  stanza,  some- 
times with  another. 

70 1  "  Backward  never  looking."  6s,  5s. 

Nearer,  ever  nearer, 

Christ,  we  draw  to  thee. 
Deep  in  adoration 

Bending  low  the  knee : 
Thou  for  our  redemption 

Cam'st  on  earth  to  die; 
Thou,  that  we  might  follow. 

Hast  gone  up  on  high. 

2  Onward,  ever  onward. 
Journeying  o'er  the  road 

Worn  by' saints  before  us, 

Journeying  on  to  God; 
Leaving  all  behind  us 

May  we  hasten  on. 
Backward  never  looking 

Till  the  prize  is  won. 

3  Higher  then  and  higher 
Bear  the  ransomed  soul. 

Earthly  toils  forgotten. 

Saviour,  to  its  goal ; 
Where  in  joys  unthought  of 

Saints  with  angels  sing. 
Never  weary  raising 

Praises  to  their  King. 

This  hymn  is  part  of  the  piece  from  which 
also  the  one  which  precedes  it  is  taken.  It 
was  written  by  Rev.  Godfrey  Thring. 


CONFLICT   WITH   SIN. 


305 


7Q2  "A  Clean  Heart."  C.  M. 

Oh,  for  a  heart  to  praise  my  God, 

A  heart  from  siti  set  free ; 
A  heart  that  always  feels  thy  blood 

So  freely  shed  for  nie ! 

2  A  heart  resigned,  submissive,  meek, 
My  dear  Redeemer's  throne  ; 

Where  only  Christ  is  heard  to  speak. 
Where  Jesus  reigns  alone! 

3  Oh,  for  a  lowly,  contrite  heart. 
Believing,  true,  and  clean  ! 

Which  neither  life  nor  death  can  part 
From  him  that  dwells  within. 

4  A  heart  in  every  thought  renewed, 
And  filled  with  love  divine; 

Perfect,  and  right,  and  pure,  and  good  ; 
An  image,  Lord  !  of  thine. 

5  Thy  nature,  gracious  Lord,  impart ; 
Come  quickly  from  above  ; 

Write  thy  new  name  upon  my  heart — 
Thy  new,  best  name  of  Love. 

Rev.  Charles  Wesley  made  this  song  and 
prayer  by  entitling  it  with  a  petition  :  "  Make 
me  a  clean  Heart,  O  God."  Psalm  51 :  10.  It 
is  from  Hymns  and  Sacred  Poems,  1742.  It 
is  strange  to  some  people  to  be  obliged  to 
find  the  best  Christians  striving  with  sin  even 
in  their  most  exalted  moments.  But  the 
nineteenth  Psalm  of  David  makes  the 
mystery  clear.  No  human  being  is  perfect ; 
each  is  to  labor,  to  strive,  to  pray,  to  grow, 
and  by  and  by  he  will  be  with  Jesus  Christ, 
and  like  him,  too.  "  Who  can  understand 
his  errors .''  cleanse  thou  me  from  secret 
faults.  Keep  back  thy  servant  also  from  pre- 
sumptuous sins  ;  let  them  not  have  dominion 
over  me  :  then  shall  I  be  upright,  and  I  shall 
be  innocent  from  the  great  transgression. 
Let  the  words  of  my  mouth,  and  the  medita- 
tion of  my  heart,  be  acceptable  in  thy  sight, 
O  Lord,  my  strength,  and  my  redeemer." 

No  man  can  write  human  history  without 
admitting  and  reckoning  with  the  element  of 
human  depravity,  exposure,  and  curse.  The 
gospel  has  its  place  in  the  system  of  things 
as  appropriately  and  as  fixedly  as  a  star. 
Thus,  then,  does  such  a  matchless  poem  in 
the  Psalter  bear  us  up  the  heights  of  nature 
only  to  show  us  in  a  sudden  tempest  the 
fairer  heights  of  grace.  They  say  that  shep- 
herds in  the  Tyrol  move  forward  up  the 
mountains  over  sunny  slopes  in  order  to  attain 
brilliant  pastures  for  their  flocks.  But  some- 
times there  falls  suddenly  over  them  a  great 
storm  of  sleet  and  snow.  Then  it  is  that  they 
leave  the  open  fields  and  seek  the  worn 
tracks  of  the  highway.  For  there  at  every 
turn  stands  the  emblem  of  crucifixion,  and 
the  drifts  never  overtop  the  shrines.  With 
one  glad  cry — "  The  cross  !  the  cross  !" — 
they  know  they  are  safe  from  any  further  per- 
20 


ilous  straying,  and  are  close  to  a  refuge  se- 
cure and  serene. 

703  Thanks  for  Victory.  C.  M. 

Oh,  for  a  thousand  tongues  to  sing 

My  dear  Redeemer's  praise ! 
The  glories  of  my  God  and  King, 

The  triumphs  of  his  grace ! 

2  My  gracious  Master  and  my  God  ! 
Assist  me  to  proclaim. 

To  spread,  through  all  the  earth  abroad. 
The  honors  of  thy  name. 

3  Jesus — the  name  that  calms  my  fears, 
That  bids  my  sorrows  cease ; 

'T  is  music  to  my  ravished  ears ; 
'T  is  life,  and  health,  and  peace. 

4  He  breaks  the  power  of  canceled  sin, 
He  sets  the  prisoner  free  ; 

His  blood  can  make  the  foulest  clean  ; 
His  blood  availed  for  me. 

5  Let  us  obey,  we  then  shall  know. 
Shall  feel  our  sins  forgiven ; 

Anticipate  our  heaven  below, 
And  own  that  love  is  heaven. 

This  particular  hymn  is  more  closely  con- 
nected with  Charles  Wesley's  personal  life 
than  any  other  he  ever  wrote.  The  piece 
consisted  of  eighteen  stanzas,  and  was  en- 
titled by  its  author,  "  For  the  anniversary  day 
of  one's  conversion."  It  undoubtedly  re- 
counts his  own  indescribable  joy  on  receiving 
the  testimony  of  his  acceptance  with  God  as 
a  pardoned  sinner  saved  by  grace,  for  it  was 
composed  on  the  recurring  date  of  his  con- 
version, May  21,  1738,  and  was  published 
soon  after. 

For  all  these  years  neither  Charles  nor 
John  Wesley  had  been  anything  more  in  re- 
ligious experience  than  mere  legalists,  striv- 
ing with  themselves  after  peace  by  obser\-ances 
and  zealous  endeavors  of  duty  in  their  hard 
field  among  the  savages  of  a  foreign  land. 
When  he  had  returned  to  England  Charles 
Wesley  found  himself  still  in  the  depths  of 
the  seventh  chapter  of  Romans,  without 
power  to  reach  the  eighth.  The  hand  of  God 
was  laid  upon  him  in  sickness ;  he  was  con- 
fined with  a  perilous  attack  of  pleurisy  to  his 
room  in  the  house  of  Thomas  Bray,  brazier,  in 
Little  Britain  ;  the  house  has  lately  been  iden- 
tified. The  event  has  been  described  with 
much  particularity  in  Wesley's  own  diary  : 

The  Day  of  Pentecost — Sunday,  2\sf 
May,  1738 — I  waked  in  hope  and  expecta- 
tion of  his  coming.  At  nine  my  brother  and 
some  friends  came  and  sang  a  hymn  to  the 
Holy  Ghost  (probably  that  written  by  his 
brother  Samuel).  My  comfort  and  hope  were 
hereby  increased.  In  about  half  an  hour  they 
went.  I  betook  myself  to  prayer,  the  sub- 
stance as  follows  :  "  O  Jesus,  thou  hast  said. 


3o6 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


'  I  will  come  unto  you  ;'  thou  hast  said,  '  I 
will  send  the  Comforter  unto  you  ;'  thoii  hast 
said,  •  My  Father  and  I  will  come  unto  you, 
and  make  our  abode  with  you.'  Thou  art 
God,  who  canst  not  lie ;  I  wholly  rely  upon 
thy  most  true  promise ;  accomplish  it  in  thy 
time  and  manner."  Having  said  this,  I  was 
composing  myself  to  sleep  in  quietness  and 
peace,  when  I  heard  one  come  in  and  say, 
"  In  the  name  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  arise,  and 
believe,  and  thou  shalt  be  healed  of  all  thine 
infirmities."  The  words  struck  me  to  the 
heart.  I  lay  musing  and  trembling.  With  a 
strange  palpitation  of  heart  I  said,  yet  feared 
to  say,  "  I  believe,  I  believe !" 

It  is  not  to  be  understood  that  the  poet 
ever  claimed  that  a  divine  or  even  supernat- 
ural word  was  sent  to  him  from  heaven  on 
this  occasion.  For  he  learned  soon  afterward 
that  what  he  had  heard  was  the  counsel  of  a 
pious  lady  near  him  at  the  time.  She  de- 
clared that  it  was  the  prompting  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  in  her  heart  which  made  her  say  it ;  it 
certainly  was  blessed  to  Wesley's  immediate 
deliverance  from  spiritual  gloom.  He  says 
that,  looking  into  the  Scriptures,  he  read  this 
verse  :  "  And  now,  Lord,  what  is  my  hope  ? 
truly  my  hope  is  even  in  thee."  Further  on 
he  read :  "  He  hath  put  a  new  song  in  my 
mouth,  even  praise  unto  our  God  ;"  and  then 
he  adds,  "  I  now  found  myself  at  peace  with 
God,  and  rejoiced  in  hope  of  loving  Christ." 
From  this  time  on  this  eminently  gifted 
Christian  seemed  full  of  grace  and  life,  of  love 
and  song. 

704  Martyr-Faith.  C.  M. 

Glory  to  God,  whose  witness-train, 

Those  heroes  bold  in  faith, 

Could  smile  on  poverty  and  pain, 

And  triumph  ev'n  in  death. 

2  Oh,  may  that  faith  our  hearts  sustain. 
Wherein  they  fearless  stood, 

When,  in  the  power  of  cruel  men, 
They  poured  their  willing  blood. 

3  God  whom  we  serve,  our  God,  can  save, 
Can  damp  the  scorching  flame. 

Can  build  an  ark,  can  smooth  the  wave. 
For  such  as  love  his  name. 

4  Lord,  if  thine  arm  support  us  still 
With  its  eternal  strength, 

We  shall  o'ercome  the  mightiest  ill. 
And  conquerors  prove  at  length. 

Count  Nicholas  Ludwig  von  Zinzendorf,  the 
author  of  the  original  poem  from  which  this 
hymn  is  translated,  was  identified  for  many 
years  with  the  Moravian  brotherhood,  of  which 
he  became  bishop  in  1737.  He  was  a  volu- 
minous writer,  having  composed  more  than 
two  thousand  hymns,  many  of  which  attained 
a  wide  popularity  in  Europe,  and  are  known 
in  English  by  John  Wesley's  versions.     The 


COUNT  VON  ZINZENDORF. 

one  quoted  here  was  written  after  the  edict  of 
1727,  by  which  Zinzendorf  was  forbidden  to 
hold  religious  meetings  in  Dresden,  and 
breathes  a  spirit  of  Christian  heroism  and  en- 
durance. The  translation  appeared  in  the 
Siipplemefit  of  1809  to  the  Morainati  Hyvin- 
Book. 

Hymns  have  sometimes  been  curiously  used 
in  stirring  times,  especially  about  the  Refor- 
mation period.  More  than  once  the  Romish 
preachers  have  been  compelled  to  abandon 
the  pulpit  by  the  vigorous  singing  of  one  of 
Luther's.  They  have  also  played  their  part 
in  battle.  At  the  famous  battle  of  Leuthen, 
one  of  Heermann's  hymns  was  raised  by  a 
regiment  before  going  into  the  fight,  and  one 
after  another  took  it  up,  until  all  the  columns 
were  singing  it  as  they  advanced.  "  Shall  I 
silence  them  .'"  the  general  asked,  as  he  rode 
up  to  stern,  heroic  King  Fritz.  "  No ;  with 
such  soldiers  God  will  give  me  the  victory ;" 
and  leaping  down  among  the  ranks  and  cry- 
ing, "  Now,  children,  in  God's  name,"  he  led 
them  into  battle.  When  the  battle  was  won, 
the  field  was  strewn  with  dead  and  wounded. 
It  was  night  and  the  soldiers  were  weary. 
Then  one  began  to  sing  a  hymn  of  thanks- 
giving, the  bands  joined  in,  and  presently  it 
rose  from  the  army  in  a  full  and  mighty  chorus 
that  reached  and  greatly  moved  the  king,  who 
turned  round,  exclaiming :  "  What  a  power 
there  is  in  faith  in  God  !" 

705  The  Race.  C.  M. 

Awake,  my  soul,  stretch  every  nerve, 

And  press  with  vigor  on  ; 
A  heavenly  race  demands  thy  zeal, 

And  an  mimortal  crown. 

2  A  cloud  of  witnesses  around 

Hold  thee  in  full  survey ; 
Forget  the  steps  already  trod, 

And  onward  urge  thy  way. 


COURAGE    AND    CHEER. 


307 


3  'T  is  God's  all-aiiimaliiig  voice 
That  calls  thee  from  on  high, 

'T  is  his  own  hand  presents  the  prize 
To  thine  aspiring  eye. 

4  Blest  Saviour,  introduced  by  thee 
Have  I  my  race  begun  ; 

And,  crowned  with  victory,  at  thy  feet 

1  '11  lay  my  honors  down. 

Perhaps  no  composition  of  Dr.  Philip  Dodd- 
ridge is  more  familiar  over  Christendom  than 
this.  It  is  No.  296  in  his  Hymns,  1755,  and 
is  entitled  in  his  sirnple  way,  "  Pressing  on  in 
the  Christian  Race."  The  sermon  he  preached, 
for  which  he  designed  this  matchless  challenge 
— ringing  like  a  trumpeter's  note  to  start  the 
athletes — was  founded  upon  Philippians  3:12- 
14:  "Not  as  though  I  had  already  attained, 
either  were  already  perfect :  but  I  follow  after, 
if  that  I  may  apprehend  that  for  which  also  I 
am  apprehended  of  Christ  Jesus.  Brethren,  I 
count  not  myself  to  have  apprehended :  but 
this  one  thing  I  do,  forgetting  those  things 
which  are  behind,  and  reaching  forth  unto 
those  things  which  are  before,  I  press  toward 
the  mark  for  the  prize  of  the  high  calling  of 
God  in  Christ  Jesus." 

706  The  Warfare.  C.  M. 

Am  I  a  soldier  of  the  cross, 

A  follower  of  the  Lamb  ? 
And  shall  I  fear  to  own  his  cause, 

Or  blush  to  speak  his  name? 

2  Must  I  be  carried  to  the  skies 
On  flowery  beds  of  ease  ? 

While  others  fought  to  win  the  prize, 
And  sailed  through  bloody  seas  ? 

3  Are  there  no  foes  for  me  to  face  ? 
Must  I  not  stem  the  flood  ? 

Is  this  vile  world  a  friend  to  grace. 
To  help  me  on  to  God  ? 

4  Sure  I  must  fight,  if  I  would  reign ; 
Increase  my  courage.  Lord  ! 

I  '11  bear  the  toil,  endure  the  pain. 
Supported  by  thy  word. 

5  Thy  saints,  in  all  this  glorious  war. 
Shall  conquer,  though  they  die; 

They  view  the  triumph  from  afar. 
And  seize  it  with  their  eye. 

6  When  that  illustrious  day  shall  rise. 
And  all  thine  armies  shine 

In  robes  of  victory  through  the  skies. 
The  glory  shall  be  thine. 

Dr.  Isaac  Watts  wrote  this,  1709,  to  follow 
a  discourse  on  I.  Corinthians  16:  13.  It  may 
be  found  in  any  edition  of  his  Sermo7ts,  though 
it  is  not  included  in  his  Hymns.  It  is  certainly 
appropriate  to  that  text ;  but  we  should  put  it 
after  another  verse  in  the  same  epistle  :  I. 
Corinthians  9  :  26,  27.  God  gives  us  trial  tests. 
He  puts  life  up  before  us  as  an  antagonist  face 
to  face.  Out  of  the  buffeting  of  a  serious  con- 
flict we  are  expected  to  grow  strong.  When 
Paul  thought  of  this  it  brought  the  old  athletic 


games  to  mind.  He  took  his  figures  of  speech 
from  them.  One  word  of  his  is  pugilistic  ;  if 
a  speaker  used  it  in  the  pulpit  now,  you  would 
call  it  slang.  He  said  :  "  I  keep  my  body  un- 
der." In  the  Greek  that  is  :  "I  strike  my  body 
under  the  eye  to  knock  it  down  !"  He  con- 
ceives himself  as  pitted  in  the  arena  against 
himself,  against  the  world,  against  the  devil ; 
he  strikes  out,  with  all  his  vigor  of  soul  and 
spirit ;  he  means  to  force  the  fight,  and  to  win 
in  it. 

Now  it  is  admitted  that  this  is  not  the  sort 
of  existence  to  take  everybody's  fancy,  but  it 
is  the  greatest  kind  of  discipline  for  one's 
manhood  or  womanhood.  God  gives  us  a 
time  in  which  to  become  true  men  and  true 
women,  out  from  whom  he  can  choose 
guardsmen  and  ladies  of  honor  for  his  throne 
when  the  kingdom  comes  we  pray  for.  Men 
should  be  always  young;  women  should 
never  grow  old.  Everybody  should  keep 
sunshiny  and  happy-hearted,  and  work  up  to 
the  very  edge  of  life.  It  may  be  proper  for 
feminine  sorrows  to  be  assuaged  by  tears. 
Old  Tacitus,  in  his  vigorous  Latin,  once  said  : 
"  It  is  honest  for  women  to  weep,  but  for 
men — to  remember."  Let  us  have  done  with 
sighing  for  doves'  pinions ;  let  us  mount  up 
with  wings  as  eagles ;  let  us  run,  and  not  be 
weary ;  let  us  walk,  and  not  faint ;  and  so 
renew  our  strength  evermore. 

707  ''  I'm  Not  Ashamed."  C.  M. 

1  'm  not  ashamed  to  own  my  Lord, 
Or  to  defend  his  cause  ; 

Maintain  the  honor  of  his  word, 
The  glory  of  his  cross. 

2  Jesus,  my  God  !— I  know  his  name — 
His  name  is  all  my  trust ; 

Nor  will  he  put  my  soul  to  shame. 
Nor  let  my  hope  be  lost. 

3  Firm  as  his  throne  his  promise  stands. 
And  he  can  well  secure 

What  I  've  committed  to  his  hands. 
Till  the  decisive  hour. 

4  Then  w-ill  he  own  my  worthless  name 
Before  his  Father's  face. 

And  in  the  new  Jerusalem 
Appoint  my  soul  a  place. 

Another  of  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  soldier  songs. 
It  stands  as  No.  103  of  Book  I.  in  his  Hymns, 
and  was  written  to  follow  a  sermon  on  II. 
Timothy  1:12.  He  gave  to  it  the  title,  "  Not 
ashamed  of  the  Gospel."  It  will  not  do  to 
try  to  be  Christian  out  of  sight.  There  is  in 
the  Bible  a  connection  between  logic  and  life. 
The  Scriptures  do  not  come  before  men  as  a 
mere  collection  of  histories  and  poems,  a 
mere  code  of  morals,  or  a  treasure-house  of 
didactic  proverbs.  They  are  the  chart  of  a 
system,  the  documents  on  which  is  based  a 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


religious  faith.  Ours  is  just  what  infidels 
sneeringly  call  it,  a  "  book  religion."  Chilling- 
worth  was  right  when  he  uttered  that  memor- 
able exclamation,  "  The  Bible,  the  Bible,  the 
religion  of  Protestants !"  There  is  no  dis- 
position on  our  part  to  evade  the  issue.  If 
the  Bible  fails,  our  scheme  of  faith  is  a  cheat 
and  a  sham.  Hence  the  reception  of  the 
Scriptures  as  a  revelation  from  God  involves 
immediate  acquiescence  in  their  claims. 
Logic  bears  on  life.  This  is  clearly  under- 
stood by  all  candid  inquirers.  God's  Word 
offers  itself,  not  as  a  pleasant  and  curious 
book  to  read,  but  in  the  place  of  ever^'thing 
else  as  a  rule  of  daily  conduct.  It  soberly 
proposes  to  the  entire  human  race  that  they 
all  adopt  Christianity  as  the  established  reli- 
gion among  the  nations.  It  deliberately  says 
that  every  man  ought  to  be  a  member  of 
some  church,  have  family  prayers  daily,  and 
put  his  children  under  some  sort  of  constant 
teaching. 

Christianity  does  not  believe  in  the  give- 
and-take  system  among  the  religions  of  men. 
It  assumes  that  it  stands  on  higher  ground 
than  any  other.  It  would  seriously  decline  to 
attend  a  union  council  which  issued  a  pros- 
pectus for  combining  the  excellences  of  all 
systems  into  a  new  form  of  faith.  It  says  to 
the  Jew  that  he  must  admit  Jesus  of  Nazareth 
to  be  the  Messiah,  no  matter  if  it  does  seem 
to  him  a  "  stumbling-block."  It  bids  the 
Greek  relinquish  his  worship  in  the  temple  of 
Saturn  and  be  a  follower  of  Christ  the  Lord, 
no  matter  if  it  does  seem  to  him  "  foolish- 
ness." So  it  strikes  right  and  left.  It  stands 
steadily  now  where  it  stood  many  hundred 
years  ago,  in  that  sublime  moment  of  tempta- 
tion, when  for  the  sake  even  of  the  patronage 
of  the  Roman  Empire  it  would  not  consent 
that  a  statue  of  Jesus  should  he  placed  among 
the  statues  of  emperors  who  claimed  also  to 
be  gods.  No  compromise  is  proposed  or 
accepted. 

Readily,  therefore,  may  it  be  seen  that  the 
real  battle  here  is  not  so  much  an  intellectual 
conflict,  as  a  wilful  recoil  of  the  heart  and 
conscience  of  men.  Nobody  can  well  dispute 
a  demonstration  in  geometry ;  but  you  may 
be  sure  he  will  resist  the  process  the  longest, 
and  will  fight  it  most  fiercely,  whose  farm  will 
be  diminished  by  the  cut  of  the  relentless 
triangles.  He  hates  the  proposition  in  pro- 
portion as  he  dreads  the  application  of  it. 

708  Our  Salvation  near.  S.  M. 

Your  harps,  ye  trembling  saints, 

Down  from  the  willows  take  : 
Loud  to  the  praise  of  love  divine 

Bid  ever>-  string  awake. 


2  Though  in  a  foreign  land, 
We  are  not  far  from  home ; 

And  nearer  to  our  house  above 
VVe  every  moment  come. 

3  His  grace  will  to  the  end 
Stronger  and  brighter  shine  ; 

Nor  present  things,  nor  things  to  come, 
Shall  quench  the  spark  divine. 

4  When  we  in  darkness  walk, 
Nor  feel  the  heavenly  flame, 

Then  is  the  time  to  trust  our  God, 
And  rest  upon  his  name. 

5  Soon  shall  our  doubts  and  fears 
Subside  at  his  control ; 

His  loving-kindness  shall  break  through 
The  midnight  of  the  soul. 

6  Blest  is  the  man,  O  God, 
Who  stays  himself^  on  thee ; 

Who  waits  for  thy  salvation.  Lord, 
Shall  thv  salvation  see. 


This  is  instantly  recognized  as  one  of  the 
most  familiar  and  valuable  of  all  the  hymns 
whieh  Rev.  Augustus  Toplady  left  as  his 
legacy  to  the  Christian  Churches.  By  its 
author  it  was  entitled, "  Weak  Believers  En- 
couraged." It  was  first  printed  in  the 
Gospel  Magazine  for  February',  1772.  The 
verses  we  use  constitute  only  a  small  portion 
of  the  poem  ;  for  it  has  eight  double  stanzas 
in  all.  Perhaps  no  lyric  in  our  language  has 
a  finer  history  than  this,  when  one  thinks  of 
the  souls  it  has  cheered  on  their  way  upward. 
It  reminds  us  of  one  of  John  Bunyan's  pas- 
sages of  help.  In  the  Pilgrim's  Progress 
Mr.  Despondency  and  Miss  Much  Afraid,  his 
daughter  (could  there  be  imagined  a  more 
pathetic  little  picture  than  that  of  those  two 
creatures!),  had  arrived  at  the  edge  of  the 
river.  And  then  the  old  man  took  occasion 
to  say  gently  for  the  benefit  of  those  who 
might  come  along  afterward  :  "  My  will  and 
my  daughter's  is,  that  our  desponds  and 
slavish  fears  be  by  no  means  ever  received, 
from  the  day  of  our  departure,  for  ever,  for  I 
know  that  after  my  death  they  will  offer 
themselves  to  others.  For  to  be  plain  with 
you,  they  are  ghosts  which  we  entertained 
when  we  first  began  to  be  pilgrims,  and  could 
never  shake  them  off  after,  and  they  will  walk 
about,  and  seek  entertainment  of  the 
pilgrims  ;  but  for  our  sakes,  shut  the  door 
upon  them." 


709 


"Be  of  Good  Courage^ 


S.  M. 


Give  to  the  winds  thy  fears ; 

Hope,  and  be  undismayed  ; 
God  hears  thy  sighs  and  counts  thy  tears ; 

God  shall  lift  up  thy  head. 

2  Through  waves,  and  clouds,  and  storms, 

He  gently  clears  thy  way ; 
Wait  thou  his  time  :  so  shall  this  night 

Soon  end  in  joyous  day. 


COURAGE  AND   CHEER. 


309 


3  What  though  thou  rulest  not ! 
Yet  heaven,  and  earth,  and  hell 

Proclaim,  God  sitteth  on  the  throne, 
And  ruleth  all  things  well. 

4  Far,  far  above  thy  thought 
His  counsel  shall  appear. 

When  fully  he  the  work  has  wrought, 
That  caused  thy  needless  fear. 

Rev.  Paul  Gerhardt's  hymn,  ^'Befiehl  du 
dcine  Wcge^'  first  printed  in  1656,  and 
founded  iipon  the  verse  of  David's  Psalm, 
"  Commit  thy  way  unto  the  Lord  ;  trust  also 
in  him ;  and  he  shall  bring  it  to  pass,"  has 
been  the  source  for  the  compilation  of  sev- 
eral of  our  best  hymns.  In  the  Epworth 
Singers  the  sixteen  stanzas  of  John  Wesley's 
translation  of  the  whole  poem  may  be  found. 
From  this  version  have  been  chosen  in  the 
present  hymn  the  verses  most  appropriate  for 
use.  Because  of  the  enthusiastic  regard  in 
which  the  name  of  Rev.  John  Wesley,  the 
translator,  is  held  in  the  Methodist  Church 
there  has  always  been  a  great  love  in  that 
body  of  Christians  for  this  particular  piece  of 
his  work.  And  romances  without  number 
have  grown  up  around  its  history,  detailing  in 
Paul  Gerhardt's  career  most  singular  inci- 
dents concerning  its  composition,  and  in 
Wesley's  career  incidents  equally  singular 
concerning  its  use.  Many  of  these  have 
been  shown  to  be  mere  tales  without  authen- 
tic facts  to  give  them  credit.  Gerhardt  wrote 
133  hymns.  In  appearance  he  is  said  to 
have  been  of  medium  height,  of  peculiarly 
cheerful  bearing,  quiet,  courageous,  gentle, 
and  firm.  (See  page  1 57.)  There  is  a  por- 
trait of  him  still  in  the  church  at  Liibben,  and 
it  bears  this  singular  inscription,  "  Theologus 
in  cribo  Satattas  versatus"  ("a  theologian 
sifted  in  the  sieve  of  Satan"),  the  allusion,  of 
course,  being  to  the  words  of  our  Lord  to 
Simon  Peter  in  Luke  22  :  31,  32. 

7  I O  "  iVeigh  Not  Thy  Life."  S.  M. 

My  soul,  weigh  not  thy  life 
Against  thy  heavenly  crown  ; 

Nor  suffer  Satan's  deadliest  strife 
To  beat  thy  courage  down. 

2  With  prayer  and  crying  strong. 
Hold  on  the  fearful  fighf. 

And  let  the  breaking  day  prolong 
The  wrestling  of  the  night. 

3  The  battle  soon  will  vield, 
If  thou  thy  part  fulfill; 

For  strong  as  is  the  hostile  shield, 
Thy  sword  is  stron^r  still. 

4  Thine  armor  is  divine, 
Thy  feet  with  victory  shod  ; 

And  on  thy  head  shall  quickly  shine 
The  diadem  of  God. 

It  is  from  his  friend,  Prof.  R.  P.  Dunn,  of 
Brown  University,  that  the  decisive  state- 
ment as  to  Rev.  Leonard  Swain's  authorship 


of  this  hymn  comes.  It  appeared  anony- 
mously in  The  Sabbath  Hymti-Book,  1858. 
Dr.  Swain  was  born  at  Concord,  N.  H.,  Feb- 
ruary 26,  1 82 1,  and  received  his  education  at 
Dartmouth  and  Andover.  He  entered  upon 
the  pastorate  of  a  Congregational  church  at 
Nashua,  N.  H.,  in  1847,  and  five  years  later 
was  called  to  be  the  minister  of  the  Central 
Church  of  Providence,  R.  I.  His  death  took 
place  July  14,  1869. 

The  thought  which  the  poem  voices  is  the 
potency  of  the  gospel  armor ;  there  are  weap- 
ons in  it  for  attack  as  well  as  for  defence,  for 
forceful  endeavor  as  well  as  for  secure  pro- 
tection. Indeed,  old  veterans  in  warfare  are 
accustomed  to  say,  "  The  best  defence  is  a 
swift  attack."  So  the  exhortation  to  the  sol- 
dier of  Christ  is  to  "  fight  the  good  fight  of 
faith ;  iay  hold  on  eternal  life." 

7  I  I  Psalm  25.  S.  M. 

Mine  ej-es  and  my  desire 
Are  ever  to  the  Lord  ; 

1  love  to  plead  his  promises, 
And  rest  upon  his  word. 

2  Lord,  turn  to  thee  my  soul ; 
Bring  thy  salvation  near : 

When  will  thy  hand  release  my  feet 
From  sin's  destructive  snare? 

3  When  shall  the  sovereign  grace 
Of  my  forgiving  God 

Restore  me  from  those  dangerous  ways 
My  wandering  feet  have  trod? 

4  Oh,  keep  my  soul  from  death, 
Nor  put  my  hope  to  shame ! 

For  I  have  placed  my  only  trust 
In  my  Redeemer's  name. 

5  With  humble  faith  I  wait 
To  see  thy  face  again  ; 

Of  Israel  it  shall  ne'er  be  said, 
He  sought  the  Lord  in  vain. 

Says  George  Eliot :  "  It  is  only  by  a  wide 
comparison  made  among  common  facts  that 
even  the  wisest  full-grown  man  can  distin- 
guish well-rolled  barrels  from  more  supernal 
thunder."  Our  times  are  crowded  with  excit- 
ing disclosures.  We  have  many  mock-heroes 
and  as  many  mock-heroines,  together  with  a 
few  pseudo-martyrs.  That  grows  out  of  a 
practice  of  self-seeking  followed  by  an  experi- 
ence of  self-pity.  This  small  piece  of  sug- 
gestive poetry,  if  sung  frequently  with  the 
spirit  and  understanding  also,  would  cure 
much  of  such  affectation.  Dr.  Isaac  Watts 
published  it  as  his  rendering  of  Psalm  25, 
Third  Part,  S.  M.  He  entitled  it,  "  Distress 
of  Soul ;  or,  Backsliding  and  Desertion."  It 
counsels  that  a  genuine  believer  needs  nothing 
more  than  to  have  clean  purposes — his  eyes 
and  desires  ever  to  the  Lord — then  he  is  to 
plead  the  divine  promises,  and  positively  de- 
pend upon  the  Word.     All  great  leaders  in 


3IO 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENXE. 


the  faith  have  been  Scripture-grounded  Chris- 
tians. This  is  what  so  interests  us  in  the  pri- 
vate Bibles  of  experienced  and  old  veterans  of 
the  cross.  Marked  and  worn,  bearing  tokens 
of  use,  they  fall  into  our  hands ;  how  rever- 
ently we  look  upon  them  I  Anybody  would 
touch  Whitefield's  Bible  gently,  and  turn  over 
its  pages  with  tenderness.  Then  there  is  the 
old  family  Bible,  and  our  mother's  Bible.  All 
these  make  us  think  of  those  days  when  Scan- 
dinavian heroes  hung  up  their  historic  swords 
as  symbols  of.  prowess  among  the  statues  of 
the  demi-gods  in  the  halls  of  the  Walhalla. 

7  I  2  Psalm  60.  S.  M. 

Arise,  ye  saints,  arise  ! 

The  Lord  our  Leader  is ; 
The  foe  before  his  banner  flies, 

And  victory  is  his. 

2  We  follow  thee,  our  Guide, 
Our  Saviour  and  our  King ! 

We  follow  thee,  through  grace  supplied 
From  heaven's  eternal  spring. 

3  We  soon  shall  see  the  day 
When  all  our  toils  shall  cease; 

When  we  shall  cast  our  arms  away, 
And  dwell  in  endless  peace. 

4  This  hope  supports  us  here; 
It  makes  our  burdens  light ; 

'T  will  sers-e  our  drooping  hearts  to  cheer, 
T?ll  faith  shall  end  in  sight. 

5  Till,  of  the  prize  possessed. 
We  hear  of  war  no  more; 

And  ever  with  our  Leader  rest, 
On  yonder  peaceful  shore. 

Rev.  Thomas  Kelly  published  this  among 
his  Hyvms  oil  Various  Passages  of  Scripture, 
third  edition,  1809.  The  text  associated  with 
it  gives  the  keynote  of  its  sentiment :  "  He 
teacheth  my  hands  to  war,  so  that  a  bow  of 
steel  is  broken  by  mine  arms."  The  martial 
spirit  of  a  true  and  dauntless  faith  is  invoked  ; 
the  hymn  rings  like  a  clarion.  It  is  always 
wise  to  remember  that  the  soldiers  in  the 
Bible  appear  well  in  a  number  of  instances. 
It  is  suggestive  to  look  up  the  word  "  Centu- 
rion "  in  the  Concordance. 


713  Psalm  z^- 

Mv  spirit  on  thy  care. 
Blest  Saviour,  I  recline  : 

Thou  wilt  not  leave  me  to  despair. 
For  thou  art  love  divine. 

2  In  thee  I  place  my  trust ; 
On  thee  I  calmly  rest : 

I  know  thee  good,  I  know  thee  just. 
And  count  thy  choice  the  best. 

3  Whate'er  events  betide. 
Thy  will  they  all  perform  : 

Safe  in  thy  breast  my  head  I  hide. 
Nor  fear  the  coming  storm. 

4  Let  good  or  ill  befall, 

It  must  be  good  for  me, 
Secure  of  having  thee  in  all, 
Of  having  all  m  thee. 


S.  M. 


Rev.  Henry  Francis  Lyte's  poetry  has  been 
characterized -for  "  its  sadness,  tenderness,  and 
beauty."  In  his  versions  of  the  Psalms,  1834, 
he  becomes  more  individual  and  natural  when- 
ever he  approaches  one  which  is  pensive, 
pleading,  wistful  in  its  sentiment.  In  this 
rendering  of  Psalm  31  it  is  easy  to  recognize 
the  author  of  "  Abide  with  me,"  and  "  Jesus. 

1  my  cross  have  taken." 

714  "  Fear  Not."  iis. 

How  FIRM  a  foundation,  ye  saints  of  the  Lord  ! 
Is  laid  for  your  faith  in  his  excellent  word  ! 
What  more  can  he  say  than  to  you  he  hath  said — 
To  you,  who  for  refuge  to  Jesus  have  fled  ? 

2  "  Fear  not,  I  am  with  thee,  oh,  be  not  dismayed. 
For  I  am  thy  God,  I  will  still  give  thee  aid  ; 

I  '11  strengthen  thee,  help  thee,  and  cause  thee  to  stand, 
Upheld  by  my  gracious,  omnipotent  hand. 

3  "  When  through  the  deep  waters  I  call  thee  to  go. 
The  rivers  of  sorrow  shall  not  overflow  ; 

For  I  will  be  with  thee  thy  trouble  to  bless. 
And  sanctify  to  thee  thy  deepest  distress. 

4  "When  through  fier>'  trials  thy  pathway  shall  lie. 
My  grace,  all-sufficient,  shall  be  thy  supply  ; 

The  flame  shall  not  hurt  thee  ;  I  only  design 
Thy  dross  to  consume,  and  thy  gold  to  refine. 

5  "  Ev'n  down  to  old  age  all  my  people  shall  prove 
My  sovereign,  eternal,  unchangeable  lo\e  ; 

And  then,  when  gray  liairs  shall  their  temples  adorn, 
Like  lambs  they  shall  still  in  my  bosom  be  borne. 

6  "  The  soul  that  on  Jesus  hath  leaned  for  repose, 
I  will  not — I  will  not  desert  to  his  foes ; 

That  soul — though  all  hell  should  endeavor  to  shake, 
I  '11  never — no  never — no  never  forsake!" 

This  was  earliest  given  to  the  Christian 
churches  in  Rippon's  Selection  of  Hymns 
from  the  Best  Authors,  published  in   1787. 

There  appeared  only  the  letter  "  K "  to 

fix  the  authorship.  In  later  editions  of  this 
book  the  sign  was  changed  to  "  Kirkham ;" 
but  now  most  compilers  have  agreed  in 
crediting  the  piece  to  George  Keith,  a  pub- 
lisher and  bookseller  in  London.  He  was 
the  son-in-law  of  Dr.  Rippon,  and  as  clerk 
led  the  singing  in  his  congregation  many 
years.  The  editor  of  the  Dictionary  of 
Hymnology,  1892,  thinks  that  the  author  of 
the  composition  was  an  unknown  poet  by  the 
name  of  "  Keen." 

I  need  to  call  your  attention  only  to  one 
peculiarity  noticeable  here — that  in  the  last 
line  of  the  closing  stanza.  A  very  singular 
repetitious  grouping  of  words  reminds  us 
that  a  similar  style  of  expression,  so  scholars 
inform  us,  is  found  in  the  passage  of  Scrip- 
ture (Hebrews  13*:  5)  upon  which  the  hymn 
is  in  some  measure  constructed ;  there  are  in 
the  Greek  text  five  negatives  grouped  in  a 
single  sentence.  In  our  language  the  rule 
says  "  two  negatives  are  equal  to  an  affirma- 
tive." Not  so  here ;  each  adds  its  meaning 
with  all  the  intensity  of  a  cumulative  force. 


COURAGE    AND    CHEER. 


311 


"  I  will  never  leave  thee  nor  forsake  thee," 
as  in  the  common  version,  is  strengthened 
much  in  the  New  Revision,  so  that  it  stands : 
"  I  will  in  no  wise  fail  thee,  neither  will  I  in 
any  wise  forsake  thee."  Once  in  the  Oratory 
at  evening  devotion,  in  Princeton  Seminary, 
the  elder  Dr.  Hodge,  then  venerable  with 
years  and  piety,  paused  as  he  read  this  hymn, 
preparatory  to  the  singing,  and  in  the  depth 
of  his  emotion  was  obliged  to  close  his  de- 
livery of  the  final  lines  with  a  mere  gesture  of 
pathetic  and  adoring  wonder  at  the  matchless 
grace  of  God  in  Christ :  "'  I  '11  never — no 
never — no  never — forsake  !" 

715  "  Looking  unto  Jesus."  lis. 

0  EYES  that  are  weary,  and  hearts  that  are  sore ! 
Look  off  unto  Jesus,  now  sorrow  no  more! 

The  hght  of  his  countenance  shineth  so  bright, 
That  here,  as  in  heaven,  there  need  be  no  night. 

2  While  looking  to  Jesus,  my  heart  cannot  fear ; 

1  tremble  no  more  when  I  see  Jesus  near; 

I  know  that  his  presence  my  safeguard  will  be, 
For,  "Why  are  you  troubled?"  he  saith  unto  me. 

3  Still  looking  to  Jesus,  oh,  may  I  be  found, 
When  Jordan's  dark  waters  encompass  me  round  : 
They  bear  me  away  in  his  presence  to  be : 

I  see  him  still  nearer  whom  always  I  see. 

4  Then,  then  shall  I  know  the  full  beauty  and  grace, 
Of  Jesus,  my  Lord,  when  1  stand  face  to  face  ; 
Shall  know  how  his  love  went  before  me  each  day, 
And  wonder  that  ever  my  eyes  turned  away. 

Rev.  John  Nelson  Darby,  the  founder  of 
the  organization  called  "  Plymouth  Brethren," 
may  have  written  this  hymn.  It  is  admitted 
that  he  contributed  five  pieces  to  a  collection 
once  published  in  London ;  a  generous  infer- 
ence makes  it  out  from  some  exceedingly 
slender  particulars  that  this  was  one  of  them, 
and  it  so  appears  credited  in  a  few  responsi- 
ble hymnals.  He  was  born  in  London,  No- 
vember 1 8,  1800;  graduated  at  Trinity  Col- 
lege, Dublin,  1 819;  took  orders  in  the  Church 
of  England,  and  became  a  curate  in  Wicklow 
until  1827.  These  facts  are  clear  to  every 
one.  At  that  period  of  his  history  things  be- 
come confused  in  some  particulars.  He  left 
the  Episcopal  communion,  gathered  together 
some  adherents,  and  shortly  afterward  went 
to  reside  in  Plymouth  about  1830.  The 
Christian  Witness  was  started  there,  and  the 
sect  took  its  now  familiar  name  from  the  cen- 
tral locality.  Mr.  Darby  journeyed  into 
Switzerland,  propagating  his  opinions,  and 
also  visited  the  United  States  and  Canada 
five  times  between  1859  and  1873.  He  died 
in  Bournemouth,  on  the  Isle  of  Wight,  April 
29,  1882.  The  organization  he  started  still 
exists  ;  some  excellent  men  and  gifted  scholars 
have  been  connected  with  it ;  their  views  are 
extreme  and  different  in  many  points  from 
those  of  other  denominations  and  sects ;  but 


they  seem  spiritually  minded  and  devout,  and 
much  of  their  literature  is  to  edification. 


716 


Psalm  23. 


The  Lord  is  my  Shepherd,  no  want  shall  I  know ; 

I  feed  in  green  pastures,  safe-folded  I  rest ; 
He  leadeth  my  soul  where  the  still  waters  flow, 

Restores  me  when    wandering,    redeems    when 
oppressed. 

2  Through  the  valley  and  shadow  of  death  though 

I  stray. 
Since  tliou  art  my  Guardian,  no  evil  I  fear; 
Thy  rod  shall  defend  me,  thy  staff  be  my  stay ; 
No  harm  can  befall,  with  my  Comforter  near, 

3  In  the  midst  of  affliction  my  table  is  spread  ; 
With  blessings  unmeasured  my  cup  runneth  o'er; 

With  perfume  and  oil  thou  anointest  my  head  ; 
Oh,  what  shall  I  ask  of  thy  providence  more? 

4  Let  goodtiess  and  mercy,  my  bountiful  God  ! 
Still  follow  my  steps  till  I  meet  thee  above ; 

I  seek,  by  the  path  which  my  forefathers  trod 
Through  the  land  of  their  sojourn,  thy  kingdom 
of  love. 

This  most  musical  rendering  of  Psalm  23 
is  by  James  Montgomery ;  it  was  first  pub- 
lished in  his  Songs  of  Zion,  1822. 


717 


"  Painty  yet  pursuing.'" 


Though  faint,  yet  pursuing,  we  go  on  our  way  ! 
The  Lord  is  our  Leader,  his  word  is  our  stay ; 
Though  suflTering,  and  sorrow,  and  trial  be  near, 
The  Lord  is  our  Refuge,  and  whom  can  we  fear? 

2  He  raiseth  the  fallen,  he  cheereth  the  faint ; 

The  weak,  and  oppressed — he  will  hear  their  complaint ; 
The  way  may  be  weary,  and  thorny  the  road, 
But  how  can  we  falter? — our  help  is  in  God  ! 

3  And  to  his  green  pastures  our  footsteps  he  leads; 
His  flock  in  tlie  desert  how  kindly  he  feeds  ! 

The  lambs  in  his  bosom  he  tenderly  bears, 

And  brings  back  the  wanderers  all  safe  from  the  snares. 

4  Though   clouds   may  surround   us,  our  God   is   our 

light ; 
Though  storms  ra^e  around  us,  our  God  is  our  might ; 
So,  faint  vet  pursuing,  still  onward  we  come; 
The  Lord  is  our  Leader,  and  heaven  is  our  home ! 

Once  or  twice,  when  I  have  been  in  the 
East,  I  have  seen  a  line  of  men  with  staves 
picking  their  path  along  through  the  streets. 
They  were  all  totally  blind,  and  each  placed 
his  hand,  with  a  sort  of  gentle  and  pathetic 
trust,  upon  the  shoulder  of  the  one  that  pre- 
ceded him  in  the  series.  Occasionally  a  new 
recruit  came  on  behind,  and  attached  himself 
to  the  train — just  as  I  did  when  I  took  up  the 
name  of  "  J.  N.  Darby,"  and  joined  the  un- 
ending procession  of  compilers  in  adding  it 
to  the  hymn,  now  before  "  our  eyes  that  are 
wear>',  and  hearts  that  are  sore,"  as  the  ail- 
thor  to  whom  its  composition  ought  to  be 
credited.  It  is  interesting  to  see  that  the 
string  of  blind  compilers  is  still  keeping  step 
and  direction  unaltered.  But  the  fact  is,  Mr. 
Darby  told  Mr.   Miller  that  he   never  wrote 


312 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


that  hymn, 
yet. 

718 


And  nobody  knows  who  did  as 


Our  Master. 


P.M. 


Art  thou  weary',  art  thou  languid, 
Art  thou  sore  distressed  ? 
"  Come  to  me,"  saith  One,  "  and  coming, 
Be  at  rest." 

2  Hath  he  marks  to  lead  me  to  him, 
If  he  be  my  Guide? — 

"  In  his  feet  aiid  hands  are  wound-prints, 
.And  his  side." 

3  Is  there  diadem,  as  Monarch, 
That  his  brow  adorns? — 

"Yea,  a  crown,  in  ver>-  surety; 
But  of  thorns." 

4  If  I  find  him,  if  I  follow. 
What  his  guerdon  here? — 

"  Many  a  sorrow,  many  a  labor. 
Many  a  tear." 

5  If  I  still  hold  closely  to  him. 
What  hath  he  at  last?— 

"  Sorrow  vanquished,  labor  ended, 
Jordan  passed." 

6  If  I  ask  him  to  receive  me. 
Will  he  say  me  nay  ? — 

"  Not  till  earth,  and  not  till  heaven 
Pass  away." 

7  Finding,  following,  keeping,  struggling. 
Is  he  sure  to  bless  ? — 

"Saints,  apostles,  prophets,  martyrs. 
Answer,  Yes." 

Two  characteristics  of  Dr.  John  Mason 
Neale  are  shown  here  at  once.  One  is  his 
profound  scholarship  in  other  languages,  and 
his  skillfulness  in  the  use  of  his  own ;  the 
other  is  his  odd  introduction  into  his  work  of 
some  esoteric  or  mystic  high  church  formulas 
of  speech  which  render  a  new  ecclesiastical 
dictionary'  quite  a  comfort.  He  caUs  this 
piece,  "  Idiomela,  in  the  Week  of  the  First 
Oblique  Tone."  It  comes  from  his  Hymns 
of  the  Eastern  Church,  1862,  and  is  a  render- 
ing of  one  written  by  St.  Stephen  the  Sabaite, 
a  monk  taking  his  name  from  the  monastery 
situated  far  down  in  the  Kedron  Valley  near 
Bethlehem,  and  overlooking  the  Dead  Sea. 
This  man  was  placed  by  his  uncle  in  this 
solitary  region  when  he  was  only  ten  years 
old,  and  remained  there  more  than  a  half- 
Century.  He  was  born  in  725,  and  died  in 
794.  His  life  was  spent  in  the  useless  dron- 
ing of  cloister  rituals,  and  in  the  useful  com- 
position of  some  excellent  hymns. 

Dr.  Neale  felt  many  misgivings,  even  after 
his  fine  successes  in  fitting  Latin  hymns  for 
British  hymnals.  As  he  entered  upon  a  fresh 
study,  and  the  reproduction  from  the  Greek, 
he  experienced  the  difficulty  of  dealing  with 
new  and  oftentimes  awkward  meters  and 
idioms  foreign  to  the  English  tongue.  But 
his  best  work  is  to  be  looked  for  here.  Rev. 
Gerard  Moultrie  has  related  a  very  interesting 


incident  in  illustration  of  his  aptness  in  trans- 
lation. Dr.  Neale  "  was  invited  by  Mr.  Keble 
and  the  Bishop  of  Salisbury  to  assist  them 
with  their  new  hymnal,  and  for  this  purpose 
he  paid  a  visit  to  Hursley  Parsonage."  On 
one  occasion  Mr.  Keble,  "  having  to  go  to  an- 
other room  to  find  some  papers,  was  detained 
a  short  time.  On  his  return  Dr.  Neale  said, 
'  Why,  Keble,  I  thought  you  told  me  that  the 
Christian  Year  was  entirely  original.'  '  Yes,' 
he  answered,  '  it  certainly  is.'  '  Then  how 
comes  this  .?'  and  Dr.  Neale  placed  before  him 
the  Latin  of  one  of  Keble's  hymns.  Keble 
professed  himself  utterly  confounded.  He 
protested  that  he  had  never  seen  this  '  origi- 
nal,' no,  not  in  all  his  life.  After  a  few  min- 
utes Neale  relieved  him  by  owning  that '  he 
had  just  turned  it  into  Latin  in  his  absence." 

7  i  9  IVaich  and  pray.  7s,  3s. 

Christian,  seek  not  yet  repose. 
Cast  thy  dreams  of  ease  away ; 
Thou  art  in  the  midst  of  foes  : 
Watch  and  pray. 

2  Principalities  and  powers. 
Mustering  their  unseen  array. 

Wait  for  thy  unguarded  hours : 
Watch  and  pray. 

3  Gird  thy  heavenly  armor  on. 
Wear  it  ever  night  and  day ; 

Ambushed  lies  the  evil  one: 
Watch  and  pray. 

4  Hear  the  victors  who  o'ercame ; 
Still  they  mark  each  warrior's  way ; 

All  with  warning  voice  exclaim. 
Watch  and  pray. 

5  Hear,  above  all,  hear  thy  Lord ; 
Him  thou  lovest  to  obey; 

Hide  within  thy  heart  his  word 
Watch  and  pray. 

6  Watch,  as  if  on  that  alone 
Hung  the  issue  of  the  day ; 

Pray  that  help  may  be  sent  down ; 
Watch  and  pray. 

In  1839  there  was  issued  in  London  a  little 
volume  called  Mortiing  and  Eiiening  Hymns 
for  a  Week,  by  the  late  Charlotte  Elliott.  This 
was  the  one  set  for  Wednesday  morning.  It 
was  founded  upon  the  words  of  Jesus  Christ : 
"  Watch  and  pray,  that  ye  enter  not  into  temp- 
tation." Matthew  26:41.  The  Christian  stands 
between  Christ  and  Satan  :  he  must  watch  the 
one,  and  pray  to  the  other.  Piety  and  pru- 
dence go  hand  in  hand. 

720  Christian  Pilgrims. 

The  people  of  the  Lord 

Are  on  their  way  to  heaven  ; 
There  they  obtain  their  great  reward  ; 

The  prize  will  there  be  given. 

2  'T  is  conflict  here  below  ; 

'T  is  triumph  there,  and  peace: 
On  earth  we  wrestle  with  the  foe; 

In  heaven  our  conflicts  cease. 


S.  M. 


COURAGE   AND   CHEER. 


313 


3  'T  is  gloom  and  darkness  here ; 
'T  is  Hght  and  joy  above ; 

Tliere  all  is  pure,  and  all  is  clear; 
There  all  is  peace  and  love. 

4  There  rest  shall  follow  toil, 
And  ease  succeed  to  care : 

The  victors  there  divide  the  spoil ; 
They  sing  and  triumph  there. 

5  Then  let  us  joyful  sing : 
The  conflict  is  not  long: 

We  hope  in  heaven  to  praise  our  King 
In  one  eternal  song. 

Included  in  the  fifth  edition  of  Rev.  Thomas 
Kelly's  Hymns  on  Various  Passages  of 
Scrtpttcre,  1820.  It  is  entitled,  "Life  a 
Pilgrimage."  It  might  serve  well  to  close  a 
sermon  on  Zechariah  14  : 6,  7  :  "  And  it  shall 
come  to  pass  in  that  day,  that  the  light  shall 
not  be  clear,  nor  dark  :  but  it  shall  be  one 
day  which  shall  be  known  to  the  Lord,  not 
day,  nor  night :  but  it  shall  come  to  pass, 
that  at  evening  time  it  shall  be  light."  "  That 
day"  means  now,  this  latter  day,  the  day  of 
the  gospel  dispensation.  A  day  of  haze,  no 
clearness,  all  confusion,  a  mixed  season ; 
but  not  reinless  and  reckless,  as  if  a  blind  or 
maddened  fate  were  ruling  it ;  it  has  a  unity 
of  purpose  all  through  it :  it  is  "  one  day," 
and  it  is  "  known  to  the  Lord ;"  and  when  it 
grows  to  its  end  and  seems  the  darkest,  then 
"at  evening  time  it  shall  be  light." 

72  I  '^ Jehovah  Jireh."  S.  M. 

1  STAND  on  Zion's  mount. 

And  view  my  starry  crown  ; 
No  power  on  earth  my  hope  can  shake, 
Nor  hell  can  thrust  me  down. 

2  The  lofty  hills  and  towers, 
That  lift  their  heads  on  high, 

Shall  all  be  leveled  low  in  dust — 
Their  very  names  shall  die. 

3  The  vaulted  heavens  shall  fall, 
Built  by  Jehovah's  hands; 

But  firmer  than  the  heavens,  the  Rock 
Of  my  salvation  stands  ! 

The  author  of  this  hymn.  Rev,  Joseph 
Swain,  was  born  in  Birmingham,  England, 
in  1 76 1,  and  as  a  young  man  was  apprenticed 
to  an  engraver.  He  early  showed  talent  for 
poetry,  but  his  gift  was  used  at  first  in 
writing  lyrics  which  would  please  the  gay 
companions  with  whom  he  associated  on  his 
removal  to  London.  A  sudden  change  came 
over  him,  and  with  his  conversion  to  a  better 
life  he  devoted  all  his  talent  to  sacred-  pur- 
poses. He  was  baptized  in  1783,  decided  to 
enter  the  ministry,  and  in  1791  took  charge  of 
a  Baptist  congregation  in  Walworth,  London. 
His  pastorate  was  brief,  but  full  of  earnest 
and  very  successful  work.  The  strain  proved 
too  severe  for  his  feeble  constitution,  and  he 
died  in  his  thirty-fifth  year,  April  16,  1796. 
This  poem,  published  in  his  Walivorth  Hymns, 
1792,  was  probaisly  written  about  the  time  of 


his  entering  the  ministry,  when  his  soul  was 
so  filled  with  joy  and  trust  that  he  composed 
many  similar  verses,  and  was  in  the  habit  of 
singing  them  to  himself. 

722  ^'Goeth  forth  weeping."  S.  M. 

The  harvest  dawn  is  near, 

The  year  delays  not  long: 
And  he  who  sows  with  many  a  tear 

Shall  reap  with  many  a  song. 

2  Sad  to  his  toil  he  goes. 

His  seed  with  weeping  leaves  ; 

But  he  shall  come,  at  twilight's  close. 
And  bring  his  golden  sheaves. 

Rev.  George  Burgess,  D.  D.,  was  born  at 
Providence,  R.  I.,  October  31,  1809.  He  was 
educated  at  Brown  University,  where  for 
some  time  after  his  graduation  he  was  a 
tutor ;  from  there  he  went  abroad  to  continue 
his  studies  at  Gottingen,  Bonn,  and  Berlin. 
Returning  home,  he  became  a  Protestant 
Episcopal  minister,  and  held  the  rectorship 
of  Christ  Church,  Hartford,  Conn.,  for  thirteen 
years.  In  1847  he  was  consecrated  Bishop 
of  the  diocese  of  Maine.  Taking  up  his 
residence  in  Gardiner  in  that  State,  he 
officiated  also  as  rector  of  Christ  Church. 
He  died  at  sea  near  Hayti,  April  23,  1866,  and 
was  buried  at  Gardiner.  The  hymn  here 
quoted  is  taken  from  his  Book  of  Psalms, 
and  is  a  poetical  version  of  Psalm  126.  It 
was  published  in  1839,  and  is  in  general  use 
all  over  the  country. 

723  "  Watchr  S.  M. 

My  soul,  be  on  thy  guard. 

Ten  thousand  foes  arise ; 
And  hosts  of  sin  are  pressing  hard 

To  draw  thee  from  the  skies. 

2  Oh,  watch,  and  fight,  and  pray  ! 
The  battle  ne'er  give  o'er ; 

Renew  it  boldly  every  day. 
And  help  divine  implore. 

3  Ne'er  think  the  victory  won, 
Nor  lay  thine  armor  down  ; 

Thine  arduous  work  will  not  be  done 
Till  thou  obtain  thy  crown. 

4  Fight  on,  my  soul,  till  death 
Shall  bring  thee  to  thy  God  ! 

He  '11  take  thee,  at  thy  parting  breath, 
I'p  to  his  blest  abode. 

Says  old  John  Bunyan's  Pilgrim :  "  My 
marks  and  scars  I  carry  with  me  to  be  a  wit- 
ness for  me  that  I  have  fought  his  battles, 
who  now  will  be  my  rewarder."  And  again : 
"  Thy  travel  hither  has  been  with  difficulty, 
but  that  will  make  thy  rest  the  sweeter." 
Rev.  George  Heath,  who  wrote  the  ringing 
hymn  before  us,  was  an  English  Unitarian 
clergyman.  He  studied  at  Exeter,  and  was 
in  1770  in  charge  of  a  Presbyterian  church  at 
Honiton,  in  Devonshire.  For  cause  he  was 
dismissed  from  this  charge ;  and  perhaps  it 
was  because  of  the  difficulty  he  himself  ex- 


3U 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


perienced  in  traveling  over  this  earthly  road 
to  the  Better  Land  that  he  wrote  the  piece 
we  quote  as  a  rallying  cry  for  his  fellows.  He 
died  in  1822. 

The  volume  from  which  it  W'as  taken  is 
entitled  Hymns  and  Poetic  Essays  Sacred  to 
the  Public  attd  Private  Worship  of  the 
Deity,  1781. 

724  '■^Jehovah  Nissi."  6s,  5s.  D. 

Brightly  gleams  our  banner, 

Pointing  to  the  sky, 
Waving  wanderers  onward 

To  their  home  on  high. 
Journeying  o'er  the  desert, 

Gladly  thus  we  pray. 
And  with  hearts  united. 

Take  our  heavenward  way. 

Ref. — Brightly  gleams  our  banner, 
Pointing  to  the  sky, 
Waving  wanderers  onward 
To  their  home  on  high. 

2  Jesus,  Lord  and  Master, 
At  thy  sacred  feet. 

Here  with  hearts  rejoicing 

See  thy  children  meet  ; 
Often  have  we  left  thee. 

Often  gone  a.stray  ; 
Keep  us,  mighty  Saviour, 

In  the  narrow  way. — Ref. 

3  All  our  days  direct  us 
In  the  way  we  go  ; 

Lead  us  on  victorious 

Over  every  foe : 
Bid  thine  angels  shield  us 

When  the  storm-clouds  lower. 
Pardon  thou  and  save  us 

In  the  last  dread  hour. — Ref. 

The  author  of  this  well-known  hymn,  Rev. 
Thomas  Joseph  Potter,  was  born  at  Scar- 
borough, England,  in  1827.  He  became  a 
Roman  Catholic  w-hen  twenty  years  old,  and 
subsequently  took  holy  orders.  For  a  num- 
ber of  years  he  was  professor  of  Pulpit  Elo- 
quence and  English  Literature  in  the  Foreign 
Missionary  College  of  All  Hallows,  Dublin, 
in  which  city  he  died  in  1873.  His  published 
works  consist  of  treatises  on  preaching,  to- 
gether with  several  tales,  and  a  volume  of 
Legends,  Lyrics  and  Hy7nns,  1862.  The 
piece  quoted  is  to  be  found  in  the  People's 
Hymnal,  1867. 

725  "  Fight  the  Good  Fight.  6s,  5s.  D. 

Onward,  Christian  soldiers, 

Marching  as  to  war, 
With  the  cross  of  Jesus 

Going  on  before. 
Christ,  the  royal  Master, 
Leads  against  the  foe ; 
Forward  into  battle, 
See,  his  banners  go. 

Cho. — Onward,  Christian  soldiers, 
Marching  as  to  war. 
With  the  cross  of  Jesus 
Going  on  before. 

2  Like  a  mighty  armv 

Moves  the  Church  of  God  ; 
Brothers,  we  are  treading 

Where  the  saints  have  trod  ; 


We  are  not  divided, 

All  one  body  we. 
One  in  hope  and  doctrine, 

One  in  charity. — Cho. 

3  Crowns  and  thrones  may  perish. 
Kingdoms  rise  and  wane, 

But  the  Church  of  Jesus 

Constant  will  remain  ; 
Gates  of  hell  can  never 

'Gainst  that  Church  prevail ; 
We  have  Christ's  own  promise, 

And  that  cannot  fail. — Cho. 

4  Onward,  then,  ye  people. 
Join  our  happy  throng; 

Blend  with  ours  your  voices 

In  the  triumph-song; 
Glory,  laud,  and  honor,  \ 

Unto  Christ,  the  King; 
This  through  countless  ages, 

Men  and  angels  sing. — Cho. 

This  admirable  processional  is  an  original 
composition  of  Rev.  Sabine  Baring-Gould, 
and  was  first  published  in  the  English  Epis- 
copal Church  Times,  1865.  It  has  been 
taken  up  all  over  the  world,  and  with  either 
Haydn's  or  Sullivan's  music  set  to  it,  it  con- 
stitutes the  best  marching  hymn  for  children 
or  adults  known  to  this  generation.  It  meets 
the  American  ideal,  mechanically  speaking,  in 
that  it  is  simple,  rhythmical,  lyric,  and  has  a 
refrain  at  the  end  of  each  stanza.  That  has 
given  to  it  an  extensive  popularity  and  use. 
The  singing  of  great  masses  of  children  may 
be  hated,  as  it  once  was  in  the  temple  at  Jeru- 
salem, by  those  that  hate  Christ ;  but  it  has 
prodigious  power,  and  if  it  were  stopped  the 
very  stones  "  would  immediately  cry  out." 
Luke  19:37-40. 

726  "  ^^^  "  it'ell."  8s,  4s. 

Through  the  love  of  God  our  Saviour, 

All  will  be  well; 
Free  and  changeless  is  his  favor  ; 

All,  all  is  well. 
Precious  is  the  blood  that  healed  us  ; 
Perfect  is  the  grace  that  sealed  us ; 
Strong  the  hand  stretched  out  to  shield  us ; 

All  must  be  well. 

2  Though  we  pass  through  tribulation. 

All  will  be  well ; 
Ours  is  such  a  full  salvation ; 

All,  all  is  well. 
Happy  still  in  God  confiding. 
Fruitful,  if  in  Christ  abiding, 
Holy,  through  tl-.e  Spirit's  guiding. 

All  must  be  well. 

3  We  expect  a  bright  to-morrow ; 

All  will  be  well ; 
Faith  can  sing  through  days  of  sorrow, 

All,  all  is  well. 
On  our  Father's  love  relying, 
Jesus  even.-  need  supplying. 
Or  in  living,  or  in  dying, 

All  must  be  well. 

This  comes  from  Mrs.  Mary  Bowly  Peters' 
Hymns  i?ttended  to  help  the  Communion  of 
Saints,  1847.  She  entitled  it,  "  Security  in 
Christ."      It  breathes    the   spirit  of    perfect 


COURAGE    AND   CHEER. 


315 


trust  and  therefore  of  joyous  contentedness 
with  the  lot  God  sends. 

727  Matthew  6  :  25-34.  7S|  6s.  D. 

Sometimes  a  light  surprises 

The  Christian  while  he  sings  : 
It  is  the  Lord  who  rises 

With  healing  in  his  wings; 
When  comforts  are  declining, 

He  grants  the  soul  again 
A  season  of  clear  shining 

To  cheer  it  after  rain. 

2  In  holy  contemplation, 
We  sweetly  then  pursue 

The  theme  of  God's  salvation, 

And  find  it  ever  new. 
Set  free  from  present  sorrow. 

We  cheerfully  can  say, 
Let  the  unknown  to-morrow 

Bring  with  it  what  it  may. 

3  It  can  bring  with  it  nothing 
But  he  will  bring  us  through  ; 

Who  gives  the  lilies  clothing. 

Will  clothe  his  people  too : 
Beneath  the  spreading  heavens, 

No  creature  but  is  fed  ; 
And  he  who  feeds  the  ravens, 

Will  give  his  children  bread. 

4  Though  vine  nor  fig-tree  neither 
Their  wonted  fruit  should  bear, 

Though  all  the  fields  should  wither. 
Nor  flocks,  nor  herds  be  there  ; 

Yet  God  the  same  abiding, 
His  praise  shall  tune  my  voice, 

For  while  in  him  confiding, 
I  cannot  but  rejoice. 

We  find  this  in  the  Obiey  Hymns,  1779,  as 
one  of  the  contributions  of  William  Cowper. 
It  has  in  the  original  copy  two  notes  by  the 
hand  of  the  author.  One  refers  to  Matthew 
6  :  34  as  giving  an  explanation  of  the  phrase 
"  Let  the  unknown  to-morrow."  The  other  re- 
fers to  Habakkuk  3:17,  18:  "Although  the 
fig  tree  shall  not  blossom,  neither  shall  fruit 
be  in  the  vines;  the  labor  of  the  olive  shall 
fail,  and  the  fields  shall  yield  no  meat ;  the 
flock  shall  be  cut  off  from  the  fold,  and  there 
shall  be  no  herd  in  the  stalls :  yet  I  will  re- 
joice in  the  Lord,  I  will  joy  in  the  God  of  my 
salvation." 


728  Perfect  peace. 

In  heavenly  love  abiding. 

No  change  my  heart  shall  fear, 
And  safe  is  such  confiding. 

For  nothing  changes  here  : 
The  storm  may  roar  without  me, 

My  heart  may  low  be  laid. 
But  God  is  round  about  me. 

And  can  I  be  dismayed  ? 

2  Wherever  he  may  guide  me. 

No  want  shall  turn  me  back; 
My  Shepherd  is  beside  me. 

And  nothing  can  I  lack  : 
His  wisdom  ever  waketh, 

His  sight  is  never  ditii : 
He  knows  the  way  he  taketh, 

And  I  will  walk  with  him. 


3  Green  pastures  are  before  me. 

Which  yet  I  have  not  seen  ; 
Bright  skies  will  soon  be  o'er  me. 

Where  darkest  clouds  have  been : 
My  hope  I  cannot  measure  ; 

My  path  to  life  is  free  ; 
My  Saviour  has  my  treasure. 

And  he  will  walk  with  me. 

Miss  Anna  Laetitia  Waring  published  this 
in  her  Hymns  and  Medttatiotts  by  A.  L.  IV., 
1850.  It  was  a  small  book  containing  nine- 
teen poems  only,  but  all  of  rare  excellence. 
This  bears  the  title,  "  Safety  in  God."  It  fol- 
lows so  closely  the  spirit  and  phraseology  of 
Psalm  23  that  one  might  readily  think  the 
author  intended  it  as  a  version  of  that  old 
song  of  David.  There  is  a  ring  and  a  swing 
of  rhythmic  melody  in  this  composition  that 
makes  it  one  of  the  most  charming  in  our 
language.  The  closing  verse  is  fairly  jubi- 
lant with  confident  hope  and  unfaltering  trust. 


729  "  Having  done  all,  stand."  7s,  6s.  D. 

Stand  up  !— stand  up  for  Jesus  ! 

Ye  soldiers  of  the  cross ; 
Lift  high  his  royal  banner. 

It  must  not  suffer  loss : 
From  victory  unto  victory 

His  army  shall  he  lead. 
Till  every  foe  is  vanquished. 

And  Christ  is  Lord  indeed. 

2  Stand  up  ! — stand  up  for  Jesus  ! 
The  trumpet  call  obey  ; 

Forth  to  the  mighty  conflict. 

In  this  his  glorious  day  : 
"Ye  that  are  men,  now  serve  him," 

Against  unnumbered  foes ; 
Let  courage  rise  with  danger. 

And  strength  to  strength  oppose. 

3  Stand  up  ! — stand  up  for  Jesus  ! 
Stand  in  his  strength  alone; 

The  arm  of  flesh  will  fail  you — 
Ye  dare  not  trust  your  own  : 

Put  on  the  gospel  armor, 
And,  watching  unto  prayer, 

Where  duty  calls,  or  danger. 
Be  never  wanting  there. 

4  Stand  up  ! — stand  up  for  Jesus  ! 
The  strife  will  not  be  long  ; 

This  day,  the  noise  of  battle. 
The  next,  the  victor's  song ; 

To  him  that  overcometh 
A  crown  of  life  shall  be : 

He  with  the  King  of  glorv 
7S,  6s.  D.  Shall  reign  eternally  ! 

This  hymn  is  well  known  as  the  composi- 
tion of  Rev.  George  Dufiield,  D.  D.,  the  sec- 
ond of  the  name.  It  seems  unnecessary  to 
speak  of  the  "  Junior  "  or  the  "  Senior,"  now 
that  both  are  before  the  throne  of  God  and 
earthly  discriminations  are  forgotten.  The 
account  of  the  piece  itself  is  given  in  a  leaflet 
printed  by  the  author. 

"  '  Stand  up  for  Jesus'  was  the  dying  mes- 
sage of  the  Rev.  Dudley  A.Tyng,  to  the  Young 
Men's  Christian  Association,  and  the  ministers 
associated  with  them  in  the  Noon-day  Prayer 


3i6 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


Meeting,  during  the  great  revival  of  1858, 
usually  known  as  '  The  Work  of  God  in 
Philadelphia.' 

"  A  very  dear  personal  friend,  I  knew  young 
Tyng  as  one  of  the  noblest,  bravest,  manliest 
men  I  ever  met ;  not  inferior  in  eloquence  to 
his  honored  father,  and  the'  acknowledged 
leader  of  a  campaign  for  Christ  that  has  be- 
come historical.  The  Sabbath  before  his 
death  he  preached  in  the  immense  edifice 
known  as  Jaynes'  Hall,  one  of  the  most  suc- 
cessful sermons  of  modern  times..  Of  the 
five  thousand  men  there  assembled,  at  least 
one  thousand,  it  was  believed,  were  '  the 
slain  of  the  Lord.'  His  text  was  Exodus 
10:  II,  and  hence  the  allusion  in  the  third 
verse  of  the  hymn. 

"  The  following  Wednesday,  leaving  his 
study  for  a  moment,  he  went  to  the  barn 
floor,  where  a  mule  was  at  work  on  a  horse- 
power, shelling  corn.  Patting  him  on  the 
neck,  the  sleeve  of  his  silk  study  gown  caught 
in  the  cogs  of  the  wheel,  and  his  arm  was 
torn  out  by  the  roots!  His  death  occurred 
in  a  few  hours.  Never  was  there  greater 
lamentation  over  a  young  man  than  over  him. 
and  when  Genesis  50 :  26  was  announced  as  the 
text  for  his  funeral  sermon,  the  place  at  once 
became  a  Bochim,  and  continued  so  for  many 
minutes. 

"  The  following  Sunday  the  author  of  the 
hymn  preached  from  Ephesians  6 :  14,  and  the 
above  verses  were  written  simply  as  the  con- 
cluding exhortation.  The  Superintendent  of 
the  Sabbath-School  had  a  fly-leaf  printed  for 
the  children — a  stray  copy  found  its  way  into 
a  Baptist  newspaper— and  from  that  paper  it 
has  gone  in  English,  and  in  German  and 
Latin  translations,  all  over  the  world.  The 
first  time  the  author  heard  it  sung,  outside  of 
his  own  denomination,  was  in  1 864,  as  the 
favorite  song  of  the  Christian  soldiers  in  the 
Army  of  the  James." 

730  "Peace,  be  sttll."  Ss,  3s. 

Fierce  raged  the  tempest  o'er  the  deep, 
Watch  did  thine  anxious  servants  keep, 
But  thou  wast  wrapped  in  guileless  sleep, 
Calm  and  still. 

2  "  Save,  Lord,  we  perish,"  was  their  cry, 
"Oh,  save  us  in  our  agony  !  " 

Thy  word  above  the  storm  rose  high, 
"  Peace,  be  still." 

3  The  wild  winds  hushed  ;  the  angry  deep 
Sank,  like  a  little  child,  to  sleep ; 

The  sullen  billows  ceased  to  leap, 
At  thy  will. 

4  So,  when  our  life  is  clouded  o'er, 

And  storm-winds  drift  us  from  the  shore. 
Say,  lest  we  sink  to  rise  no  more, 
"  Peace,  be  still." 


This  w-as  first  published  in  R.  R.  Chope's 
Hymnal,  1862.  It  was  written  by  Rev.  God- 
frey Thring,  Prebendary  of  Wells  Cathedral, 
and  was  entitled  "  Stilling  the  Sea."  As  a 
narrative  poem,  descriptive  and  picturesque, 
it  has  proved  itself  a  popular  and  spirited 
success.  The  Scripture  passage  is  Mark 
4:36-41. 

73  I  I'he  glorious  City.  6s,  5s. 

Forward  !  be  our  watchword, 

Steps  and  voices  joined  ; 
Seek  the  things  before  us. 

Not  a  look  behind  ; 
Burns  the  fiery  pillar 

At  our  army's  head  ; 
Who  shall  dream  of  shrinking. 
By  our  Captain  led  ? 
Forward  through  the  desert, 
Through  the  toil  and  fight . 
Jordan  flows  before  us, 
Zion  beams  with  light ! 

2  Forward,  when  in  childhood 
Buds  the  infant  mind  ; 

All  through  youth  and  manhood, 

Not  a  thought  behind  : 
Speed  through  realms  of  nature, 

Climb  the  steps  of  grace; 
Faint  not,  till  in  glory 
Gleams  our  Father's  face. 
Forward,  all  the  life-time, 

Climb  from  height  to  height : 
Till  the  head  be  hoary. 
Till  the  eve  be  light. 

3  Forward,  flock  of  Jesus, 
Salt  of  all  the  earth  ; 

Till  each  yearning  purpose 

Spring  to  glorious  birth : 

Sick,  they  ask  for  healing. 

Blind,  they  grope  for  day  ; 
Pour  upon  the  nations 
Wisdom's  loving  ray. 
Forward,  out  of  error, 

Leave  behind  the  night ; 
Forward  through  the  darkness, 
Forward  into  light ! 

4  Glories  upon  glories 
Hath  our  God  prepared, 

By  the  souls  that  love  him 

One  day  to  be  shared  ; 
Eye  hath  not  beheld  them, 

Ear  hath  never  heard  ; 
Nor  of  these  hath  uttered 
Thought  or  speech  a  word : 
Forward,  marching  eastward 
Where  the  heaven  is  bright. 
Till  the  vail  be  lifted, 
Till  our  faith  be  sight ' 

Rev.  Henry  Alford,  D.  D.,  is  best  known 
by  his  latest  title,  Dean  Alford,  of  Canterbury 
Cathedral,  in  England.  His  Greek  Tesiixment 
with  Notes  is,  or  ought  to  be,  in  the  library 
of  every  American  expositor.  This  splendid 
work  alone  would  be  enough  to  fix  the  fame 
of  its  author  as  a  devout  and  scholarly  divine. 
He  has  almost  always  been  in  literature  ;  at  one 
time  he  was  the  editor  of  the  Contemporary 
Review,  writing  voluminously  in  its  pages.  He 
was  born  in  London,  October  7,  18 10.  There 
must  have  been  an  unusual  piety  and  devo- 
tion of  spirit  in  this  young  student's  charac- 


COURAGE  AND   CHEER. 


317 


DEAN   HENRV  ALFORD. 


ter,  for  in  his  sixteenth  year  he  wrote  this 
open  dedication  of  his  life  to  his  Maker  upon 
the  fly-leaf  of  his  Bible :  "  I  do  this  day,  in 
the  presence  of  God  and  my  own  soul,  renew 
my  covenant  with  God,  and  solemnly  deter- 
mine henceforth  to  become  his,  and  to  do  his 
work  as  far  as  in  me  lies."  His  education 
was  received  at  Trinity  College,  in  Cam- 
bridge, where,  after  his  graduation,  1832, 
he  became  a  Fellow  in  1834.  For  four  years, 
from  1853  to  1857,  he  was  the  preacher  at 
Quebec  Chapel  in  London,  and  was  known 
widely  for  his  taste,  his  piety,  his  attainments 
in  learning,  and  his  eloquence  in  speech.  A 
publication  of  the  discourses  he  delivered 
during  that  period  was  subsequently  made. 
But  he  relinquished  the  charge  of  the  pulpit 
in  order  to  succeed  Dean  Lyall  at  Canter- 
bury, 1857;  there  he  remained  until  his 
death,  which  took  place  January  12,  1871. 

Dean  Alford  wrote  this  hymn  to  be  sung 
at  the  "  Tenth  Festival  of  Parochial  Choirs  of 
the  Canterbury  Diocesan  Union ;"  this  was 
held  June  6,  1871.  It  was  designed  as  a  pro- 
cessional, and  so  was  constructed  with  eight 
double  stanzas,  each  followed  by  a  brilliant 
chorus  of  four  lines.  It  is  a  most  spirited 
piece  of  religious  poetr>%  full  of  happy  en- 


thusiasm, and  shining  with  the  radiance  of 
the  "  fiery  pillar  "  of  the  "  Light  "  of  which  it 
sings.  The  text  affi.xed  to  it  is  Exodus  14:15: 
"  Speak  unto  the  children  of  Israel,  that  they 
go  forward." 

732  "  Forward  into  light !"  6s,  5s. 

Far  o'er  yon  horizon 
Rise  the  city  towers 
Where  our  God  abideth  ; 
That  fair  home  is  ours  : 
Flash  the  streets  with  jasper, 
Shine  the  gates  with  ^old  : 
Flows  the  gladdening  river 
Shedding  joys  untold  : 
Thither,  onward  thither, 

In  the  Spirit's  might: 

Pilgrims  to  your  countr>-, 

Forward  into  Light  ! 

2  Into  God's  high  temple 
Onward  as  we  press, 

Beauty  spreads  around  us, 

Born  of  holiness ; 
Arch,  and  vault,  and  carving. 

Lights  of  varied  tone; 
Softened  words  and  holy, 
Prayer  and  praise  alone  : 
Every  thought  upraising 

To  our  city  bright, 
Where  the  tribes  assemble 
Round  the  throne  of  Light. 

3  Naught  that  city  needeth 
Of  these  aisles  of  stone: 

Where  the  Godhead  dwelleth, 

Temple  there  is  none: 
All  the  saints  that  ever 

In  these  courts  have  stood, 
Are  but  babes,  and  feeding 
On  the  children's  food. 
On  through  sign  and  token, 

Stars  amidst  the  night ; 
Forward  through  the  darkness, 
Forward  into  Light ! 

4  To  the  eternal  Father 
Loudest  anthems  raise: 

To  the  Son  and  Spirit 

Echo  songs  of  praise: 
To  the  Lord  of  Glory 

Blessed  Three  in  One, 
Be  by  men  and  angels 
Endless  lionor  done. 
Weak  are  earthly  praises, 
Dull  the  songs  of  night : 
Forward  into  triumph, 
Forward  into  Light. 

This  is  the  second  half  of  the  previous  hymn. 
No  better  proof  of  Dean  Alford's  power  and 
gift  as  a  true  "  Poet  of  the  Church  "  can  be 
adduced  than  the  fact  that  so  long  a  lyric  sus- 
tains its  wonderful  loftiness  and  force  clear 
through  to  the  end,  and  adds  a  doxology  fit  to 
be  sung  to  the  sound  of  silver  trumpets  in  the 
temple  of  God. 


733  "  Our  Father's  Latid." 

Jesus,  guide  our  way 

To  eternal  da\- : 
So  shall  we,  no  more  delaying, 
Follow  thee,  thy  voice  obeying: 

Lead  us  by  thy  hand 

To  our  Father's  land. 


5s,  8s,  5s. 


3i8 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


2  If  the  way  be  drear, 
If  the  foe  be  near, 

Let  not  faithless  fears  o'ertake  us, 
Let  not  faith  and  hope  forsake  us : 

Through  adversity 

Lies  our  way  to  thee. 

3  When  the  heart  must  know 
Pain  for  others'  woe, 

When  oppressed  by  new  temptations, 
Lord,  increase  our  perfect  patience : 
Show  us  that  bright  shore 
Where  we  weep  no  more. 

4  Thus  our  path  shall  be 
Daily  traced  by  thee; 

Heavenly  Leader,  still  direct  us. 
Still  support,  console,  protect  us. 

Till  we  safely  stand 

In  our  Father's  land. 


Rev.  Arthur  Tozer  Russell  translated  this 
hymn  from  the  German  of  Zinzendorf,  the 
verse  there  beginning  ''Jesu geft  voran."  He 
wrote  it  March  20,  1 846,  and  it  was  published 
in  his  Psabtis  and  Hymns,  1 85 1 .  Count  Zinzen- 
dorf, the  champion  of  the  Moravians,  was  an 
enthusiast  in  Christian  service,  and  gifted  in 
many  ways.  He  had  a  singular  faculty  for  ex- 
temporizing hymns.  He  composed  in  all  some 
two  thousand,  and  not  a  few  of  them  were 
improvised.  Speaking  of  his  ministrations  in 
Berlin,  he  said  :  "  After  the  discourse,  I  gen- 
erally announce  another  hymn  appropriate  to 
the  subject.  When  I  cannot  find  one  I  com- 
pose one ;  I  say  in  the  Saviour's  name  what 
comes  into  my  heart ;  I  am,  as  ever,  a  poor 
sinner,  a  captive  of  eternal  love,  running  by 
the  side  of  the  triumphal  chariot,  and  have  no 
desire  to  be  anything  else  as  long  as  I  live." 


734 


'  Still  Lead  On: 


5s,  8s,  5s. 


Jesus,  still  lead  on. 

Till  our  rest  be  won  ; 
And  although  the  way  be  cheerless ; 
We  will  follow,  calm  and  fearless  ; 

Guide  us  by  thy  hand 

To  our  Fatherland. 

2  If  the  way  be  drear. 
If  the  foe  be  near, 

Let  not  faithless  fears  o'ertake  us. 
Let  not  faith  and  hope  forsake  us ; 

For,  through  many  a  foe. 

To  our  home  we  go. 

3  When  we  seek  relief 
From  a  long-felt  grief, 

When  temptations  come,  alluring, 
Make  us  patient  and  enduring; 

Show  us  that  bright  shore 

Where  we  weep  no  more. 

4  Jesus,  still  lead  on, 
Till  our  rest  be  won  ; 

Heavenly  Leader,  still  direct  us. 
Still  support,  console,  protect  us. 

Till  we  safely  stand 

In  our  Fatherland. 

Translated  from  the  same  poem  as  above, 
by  Miss  Jane  Borthwick,  and  given  to  the 


public  in  Hymns  from  the  Land  of  Luther, 
First  Series,  1854.  It  was  earliest  published 
in  the  Scottish  Free  Church  Magazine,  1 846. 

733  Vigor  in  attack.  6s,  5s. 

Christian,  dost  thou  see  them 

On  the  holy  ground. 
How  the  powers  of  evil 

Rage  thy  steps  around  ? 
Christian,  up  and  smite  them. 

Counting  gain  but  loss; 
Smite  them  by  the  merit 

Of  the  holy  Cross. 

2  Christian,  dost  thou  feel  them. 
How  they  work  within, 

Striving,  tempting,  luring. 

Goading  on  to  sin  ? 
Christian,  never  tremble; 

Never  yield  to  fear: 
Smite  them  by  the  virtue 

Of  unceasing  prayer. 

3  Christian,  dost  thou  hear  them. 
How  they  speak  thee  fair? 

"Always  fast  and  vigil? 

Always  watch  and  prayer?" 
Christian,  answer  boldly : 

"While  I  breathe,  I  pray:" 
Peace  shall  follow  battle. 

Night  shall  end  in  day. 

4  "  Well  I  know  thy  trouble, 

0  my  servant  true; 
Thou  art  very  weary — 

1  was  weary  too  : 

But  that  toil  shall  make  thee 

Some  day  all  mine  own ; 
And  the  end  of  sorrow 

Shall  be  near  my  throne." 

This  beautiful  poem  is  one  of  Dr.  Neale's 
translations  from  the  Greek,  and  appeared 
first  in  his  Hymns  of  the  Eastern  Church, 
1862.  It  grew  so  rapidly  in  popular  favor 
that  it  has  since  been  included  in  hymnals  of 
every  denomination.  The  original  is  sup- 
posed to  have  been  composed  by  St.  Andrew 
of  Jerusalem,  who  was  born  at  Damascus  in 
660,  became  Archbishop  of  Crete,  and  died 
near  Mitylene  in  732.  The  hymn  is  one  of 
the  most  vivid  and  dramatic  presentations  of 
our  position  as  Christians  in  the  midst  of  an 
array  of  evil  forces  ever  on  the  watch  to 
overcome  our  resistance.  A  vigilance  that 
never  relaxes  is  our  only  safeguard ;  and  as 
long  as  life  lasts,  it  is  bound  to  be  a  struggle. 
The  freshest  of  fishes  are  sometimes  caught 
in  the  saltest  of  seas.  It  is  quite  possible  for 
even  a  truly  regenerate  man  to  live  in  the 
world,  and  yet  never  so  much  as  be  tainted 
by  its  spirit.  He  may  even  vex  his  righteous 
soul  with  the  iniquity  he  meets.  But  if  at 
the  end  of  some  lengthened  years  he  has  no 
more  to  show  for  his  piety  than  Lot  had 
when  he  forsook  Sodom,  we  should  be  at 
liberty  to  draw  the  conclusion  that  his  reli- 
gion was  of  a  tame  sort  and  well  broken  in, 
so  as  to  have  been  easily  held  in  hand. 


COURAGE  AND   CHEER. 


319 


73Q  Ephesians  6  :  14.  L.  M. 

Stand  up,  my  soul,  shake  off  thy  fears 

And  gird  the  gospel  armor  on  ; 
March  to  the  gates  of  endless  joy, 

Where  Jesus,  thy  great  Captain's  gone. 

2  Hell  and  thy  sins  resist  thy  course, 
But  hell  and  sin  are  vanquished  foes ; 

Thy  Saviour  nailed  them  to  the  cross, 
And  sung  the  triumph  vi'hen  he  rose. 

3  Then  let  my  soul  march  boldly  on— 
Press  forward  to  the  heavenly  gate; 

There  peace  and  joy  eternal  reign, 
And  glittering  robes  for  conquerors  wait. 

4  There  shall  I  v^eax  a  starry  crown. 
And  triumph  in  almighty  grace. 

While  all  the  armies  of  the  skies 
Join  in  my  glorious  Leader's  praise. 

In  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  Hynms  and  Spiritual 
Songs,  1707,  this  poem  originally  appeared 
with  six  stanzas  of  four  lines  each,  bearing 
the  title,  "  The  Christian  Warfare."  It  was 
suggested  by  the  thirteenth  and  fourteenth 
verses  of  the  sixth  chapter  of  Ephesians,  in 
which  the  believer  is  represented  as  arming 
himself  with  the  panoply  of  God  for  the  fight 
with  the  powers  of  darkness.  It  is  always 
best  to  spend  a  little  time  in  making  ready 
before  one  goes  out  into  unusual  exposure  of 
great  spiritual  enterprise.  An  hour  in  study 
and  prayer  is  not  wasted.  Most  elderly  peo- 
ple will  remember  the  kindling  of  heroic 
ardor  they  had  in  their  early  days  when  they 
contemplated  Christian  in  the  few  illustra- 
tions of  Pilgrinis  Progress  as  he  emerged 
from  the  Palace  Beautiful.  He  had  been 
shown  into  the  armory  at  the  beginning  of 
his  visit,  and  seen  all  the  rare  weapons  of  an- 
tiquity, from  Shamgar's  ox-goad  to  Jael's 
nail.  But  when  he  was  to  go  on  his  journey 
again  the  three  discreet  damsels  clad  him 
with  "  all  manner  of  furniture  which  their 
Lord  had  provided  for  pilgrims."  Few  read- 
ers will  ever  forget  how  different  the  brave 
man  looked  in  the  pictures  after  that.  He 
had  struggled  up  the  Hill  Difficulty  in  flowing 
robes  which,  to  our  critical  eyes,  seemed 
effeminate.  But  now  he  appeared  in  the 
road  wearing  the  conspicuous  head- piece  of  a 
warrior,  almost  as  fierce  as  Greatheart  him- 
self in  pursuit  of  the  giants.  Down  into  the 
Valley  of  Humiliation  he  walked  courageously 
for  his  historic  fight  with  ApoUyon.  He  was 
ready ;  he  was  trustful ;  in  the  end  he  was 
victorious. 

737  /saiaA  40:28-31.  L.  M. 

Awake,  our  souls  !  away,  our  fears ! 

Let  every  trembling  thought  be  gone  ; 
Awake,  and  run  the  heavenly  race, 

And  put  a  cheerful  courage  on  ! 

2  True,  't  is  a  strait  and  thorny  road. 
And  mortal  spirits  tire  and  faint; 

But  they  forget  the  mighty  God, 
Who  feeds  the  strength  of  ever}-  saint — 


3  The  mighty  God,  whose  matchless  power 
Is  ever  new  and  ever  young. 

And  firm  endures,  while  endless  years 
Their  everlasting  circles  run. 

4  From  thee,  the  overflowing  spring, 
Our  souls  shall  drink  a  fresh  supply  ; 

While  such  as  trust  their  native  strength 
Shall  melt  away,  and  droop,  and  die. 

5  Swift  as  an  eagle  cuts  the  air. 
We  '11  mount  aloft  to  thine  abode ; 

On  wings  of  love  our  souls  shall  fly. 
Nor  tire  amid  the  heavenly  road. 

This  will  be  found  in  Dr.  Isaac  Watts' 
Hymns,  No.  48  of  Book  I.  The  title,  affixed 
to  it  is,  "  The  Christian  Race,"  and  it  is 
almost  a  picturesque  paraphrase  of  Isaiah 
40:28-31. 

738  "  Lead  me  on."  P.M. 

Traveling  to  the  better  land, 
O'er  the  desert's  scorching  sand. 
Father !  let  me  grasp  thy  hand  ; 
Lead  me  on,  lead  me  on  ! 

2  When  at  Marah,  parched  with  heat, 
I  the  sparkling  fountain  greet, 
Make  the  bitter  water  sweet ; 

Lead  me  on ! 

3  When  the  wilderness  is  drear. 
Show  me  Elim's  palm-grove  near, 

.     And  her  wells,  as  crystal  clear  : 
Lead  me  on ! 

4  Through  the  water,  through  the  fire, 
Never  let  me  fall  or  tire. 

Every  step  brings  Canaan  nigher : 
Lead  me  on ! 

5  Bid  me  stand  on  Nebo's  height. 
Gaze  upon  the  land  of  light. 
Then,  transported  with  the  sight, 

Lead  me  on ! 

6  When  I  stand  on  Jordan's  brink, 
Never  let  me  fear  or  shrink  ; 
Hold  me.  Father,  lest  I  sink  : 

Lead  me  on ! 

7  When  the  victory  is  won. 
And  eternal  life  begun, 

Up  to  glory  lead  me  on  ! 
Lead  me  on,  lead  me  on  ! 

This  queer,  but  spirited,  little  hymn  was 
found  in  Silver  Wings,  1 870,  a  volume  of  good 
music  and  songs  for  children,  composed  and 
edited  by  Judge  Charles  Crozat  Converse,  of 
Erie,  N.  Y.  From  this,  for  the  sake  of  the 
tune,  it  was  taken  for  Spiritual  Songs,  1878. 
and  thence  borne  on,  in  the  progress  of  com- 
pilation and  the  survival  of  the  fittest,  into 
Laudes  Domini.  But  nobody  could  ever  find 
out  who  wrote  the  words.  They  have  become 
popular  as  fast  as  they  have  become  known. 
They  present  a  true  Christian  Pilgrim's 
Progress  under  the  well-sustained  figure  of 
Israel's  journey  from  the  Red  Sea  to  the 
Jordan. 

739  The  Lord  will  provide.  ids,  lis. 

Though  troubles  assail,  and  dangers  affright. 
Though   friends  should  all  fail,  and  foes  all  unite. 
Yet  one  thing  secures  us,  whatever  betide, 
The  promise  assures  us,  "  The  Lord  will  provide." 


320 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENXE. 


2  The  birds,  without  barn  or  store-house,  are  fed  ; 
From  them  let  us.learn  to  trust  for  our  bread  : 
His  saints  what  is  fitting  shall  ne'er  be  denied, 

So  long  as  't  is  written,  "  The  Lord  will  provide." 

3  When  life  sinks  apace,  and  death  is  in  view, 
The  word  of  his  grace  shall  comfort  us  through  : 
Not  fearing  or  doubting,  with  Christ  on  our  side, 
We  hope  to  die  shouting,  "  The  Lord  will  provide." 

In  the  Olney  Hymfis  of  Rev.  John  Newton, 
1779,  this  hymn  is  found  as  No.  7  in  Book  I. 
It  was  composed  in  February',  1775,  and 
appeared  in  the  Gospel  Magazine,  January, 
1777,  with  eight  stanzas;  out  of  these  it  was 
easy  to  select  the  verses  now  in  popular  use. 
It  is  founded  upon  the  familiar  passage  in 
Genesis  22:  14,  "Jehovah-jireh,  the  Lord  will 
provide,"  which  it  uses  as  a  sort  of  refrain.  A 
weaver  once  lived  in  the  little  German  town 
of  Wupperthal :  a  poor  man  in  outer  cir- 
cumstances, but  rich  toward  God.  He  was 
remarkable  in  the  neighborhood  as  one  who 
trusted  in  the  Lord  at  all  times;  and  this 
used  to  be  his  motto  whenever  his  faith  was 
challenged:  "The  Lord  will  provide."  He 
said  it  undauntedly,  even  when  it  looked  as 
if  the  Lord  had  forsaken  him.  Such  a  time 
it  was  when,  in  a  season  of  scarcity,  work 
ran  short,  many  hands  were  discharged,  and 
the  master  by  whom  our  weaver  was  employed 
gave  him  his  dismissal.  After  much  fruit- 
less entreaty  that  he  might  be  kept  on,  "he 
said  at  last,  "  Well,  the  Lord  will  provide," 
and  so  returned  home.  His  wife,  when  she 
heard  the  sad  news,  bewailed  it  terribly ;  but 
her  husband  strove  to  cheer  her  with  his 
accustomed  assurance.  "  The  Lord  will  pro- 
vide," he  said;  and,  even  although  as  the 
days  went  on  poverty  pinched  them  sorely, 
nothing  could  shake  his  firm  reliance  on  him 
in  whom  he  trusted.  At  last  came  the  day 
when  not  a  penny  was  left — no  bread,  no  fuel 
in  the  house ;  only  starvation  stared  them  in 
the  face.  Sadly  his  wife  tidied  and  swept 
the  little  room  on  the  ground  floor  in  which 
they  lived.  The  window  was  open,  and  pos- 
sibly the  words  were  heard  outside  with 
which  the  weaver  strove  to  keep  up  their 
courage  :  "  The  Lord  will  provide."  Presently 
a  street-boy  looked  saucily  in  and  threw  a 
dead  raven  at  the  feet  of  the  pious  man. 
"  There,  saint !  there  is  something  to  help 
you  ! "  he  cried.  The  weaver  picked  up  the 
dead  raven,  and,  stroking  its  feathers  down, 
said,  compassionately:  "  Poor  creature  !  thou 
must  have  died  of  hunger."  When,  how- 
ever, he  felt  its  crop  to  see  whether  it  was 
empty,  he  noticed  something  hard,  and  wish- 
ing to  know  what  had  caused  the  bird's 
death,  he  began  to  examine  it.  What  was 
his  surprise  when  on  opening  the  gullet  a 


gold  necklace  fell  into  his  hand !  '  The  wife 
looked  at  it  confounded ;  the  weaver  ex- 
claimed, "  The  Lord  will  provide,"  and  in 
haste  took  the  chain  to  the  nearest  goldsmith, 
told  him  how  he  had  found  it,  and  received 
with  gladness  eight  shillings,  which  the  gold- 
smith offered  to  lend  him  for  his  present  need. 
The  goldsmith  soon  cleaned  the  necklace, 
and  recognized  it  as  one  he  had  seen  before. 
"  Shall  I  tell  you  the  owner .'"  he  asked. 
"  Yes,"  was  the  joyful  answer ;  "  for  I  would 
gladly  give  it  back  to  him."  But  what  cause 
had  he  to  admire  the  wonderful  ways  of  God 
when  the  goldsmith  pronounced  the  name  of 
his  master  at  the  factory  !  Quickly  he  took 
the  necklace  and  went  with  it  to  his  former 
employer.  In  his  family,  too,  there  was  much 
joy,  for  suspicion  was  removed  from  a  ser- 
vant who  had  been  causelessly  suspected. 
The  merchant  was  ashamed  and  touched ; 
so  he  said  :  "  I  will  no  longer  leave  without 
work  so  faithful  a  workman,  whom  the  Lord 
so  evidently  stands  by  and  helps."  Thus 
through  a  dead  raven  it  was  made  manifest 
that  the  old  joyous  cry  of  confidence  was 
true :  "  The  Lord  will  provide  !  "  There  in 
that  village  the  people  still  tell  the  story.  They 
do  not  insist  that  the  Lord  sends  a  raven 
always  for  human  need,  and  puts  a  necklace 
in  its  crop ;  but  they  simply  repeat  the 
weaver's  words  with  an  equal  faith :  "  The 
Lord  will  provide;"  and  then  they  wait  to 
see  how  he  will  come  to  their  help. 

740  "  Come  homey  7s.  D. 

Brethren,  while  we  sojourn  here. 
Fight  we  must,  but  should  not  fear. 
Foes  we  have,  but  we  've  a  Friend, 
One  that  loves  us  to  the  end  : 
Forward,  then,  with  courage  go  ; 
Long  we  shall  not  dwell  below  ; 
Soon  the  joyful  news  will  come, 
"Child,  your  Father  calls — come  home!" 

2  In  the  way  a  thousand  snares 
Lie,  to  take  us  unawares ; 
Satan,  with  malicious  art, 
Watches  each  unguarded  part : 
But,  from  Satan's  malice  free. 
Saints  shall  soon  victorious  be  ; 
Soon  the  joyful  news  will  come, 
"Child,  your  Father  calls — come  home!" 

3  But  of  all  the  foes  we  meet. 
None  so  oft  mislead  our  feet, 
None  betray  us  into  sin. 

Like  the  foes  that  dwell  within  ; 
Yet  let  nothing  spoil  our  peace, 
Christ  shall  also  conquer  these  ; 
Soon  the  joyful  news  will  come, 
"  Child,  your  Father  calls — come  home  !" 

This  hymn  is  one  of  the  most  widely  known 
compositions  of  Rev.  Joseph  Swain.  It  orig- 
inally appeared  in  1792  in  Walworth  Hymns, 
a  collection  of  nearly  two  hundred  of  his  own 
poems.  It  is  peculiar  in  its  recognition  of 
Satan  as  a  personal  antagonist.    Next  to  that 


COURAGE   AND   CHEER. 


321 


recorded  picture  in  the  opening  of  the  book 
of  Job,  perhaps  the  most  graphic  which  we 
find  in  the  Scriptures  is  that  of  the  prophet 
Zechariah  :  "  And  he  showed  ni,  Joshua  the 
high  priest  standing  before  the  angel  of  the 
Lord,  and  Satan  standing  at  his  right  hand  to 
resist  him.  And  the  Lord  said  unto  Satan, 
The  Lord  rebuke  thee,  O  Satan  ;  even  the 
Lord  that  hath  chosen  Jerusalem  rebuke  thee  : 
is  not  this  a  brand  plucked  out  of  the  fire?" 
Just  as  in  a  court-martial,  two  men  appear  in 
order  to  manage  a  suit  after  quick  arrest  of 
some  derelict  subaltern,  so  here  a  poor  ac- 
cused being  seems  to  be  put  on  trial.  A 
divine  advocate — even  Jesus  Christ  the  right- 
eous, the  true  historic  Angel  of  the  Lord — 
labors  to  defend  him ;  while  another,  the  ac- 
cuser of  his  brethren,  is  allowed  to  hinder 
and  interrupt,  springing  technicalities  in  the 
way  of  progress,  wresting  the  evidence,  plead- 
ing false  issues,  suborning  witnesses,  tam- 
pering with  testimony,  mutilating  records, 
disturbing  the  tribunal  with  vociferous  objec- 
tions, until  the  presiding  judge  will  bear  it  no 
longer,  but  in  true  commiseration  for  the 
culprit  bursts  out,  "  The  Lord  rebuke  thee,  O 
Satan !" 


74 1  The  Morning  Star.  P.  M. 

The  gloomy  night  will  soon  be  past, 

The  morning  will  appear, 
The  rays  of  blessed  light  at  last 
Each  eye  will  cheer. 

2  Thou  bright  and  mornmg  Star,  thy  light 
Will  to  our  joy  be  seen  ; 

Thou,  Lord,  wilt  meet  our  longing  sight ; 
No  cloud  between. 

3  Thy  love  sustains  us  on  our  way 
While  pilgrims  here  below  ; 

Thou  dost,  O  Saviour,  day  by  day. 
Thy  grace  bestow. 

4  But  oh  I  the  more  vi-e  learn  of  thee 
And  thy  rich  mercy  prove, 

The  more  we  long  thy  face  to  see, 
And  know  thy  love. 

5  Then  shine,  thou  bright  and  morning  Star, 
Dispel  the  drearj'  gloom  ; 

Oh,  take  from  sin  and  grief  afar 
Thy  people  home. 

Rev.  Samuel  Prideaux  Tregelles,  LL.  D., 
generally  identified  with  the  Plymouth  Breth- 
ren, composed  for  their  Psalms,  Hytnns  and 
Spiritual  Songs,  1842,  this  and.  a  few  others 
of  like  merit.  It  was  entitled,  "  Heaven  an- 
ticipated." It  cannot  be  considered  any 
wonder  that  this  good  man,  paralyzed,  hin- 
dered, humiliated  with  helplessness,  should 
pray  for  a  land  the  inhabitant  whereof 
should  never   say,   "  I  am  sick,"   where    the 


"  longing  sight "  of  the  Lord  would  be  with 
"  no  cloud  between." 

742  "  The  Everlasting  Arms.'"  7s. 

Everlasting  arms  of  love 
.^re  beneath,  around,  above  ; 
He  who  left  his  throne  of  light, 
And  unnumbered  angels  bright— 

2  He  who  on  the  accursed  tree 
Gave  his  precious  life  for  me — 
He  it  is  that  bears  me  on. 

His  the  arm  I  lean  upon. 

3  All  things  hasten  to  decay. 
Earth  ana  sea  will  pass  away  : 
Soon  will  yonder  circling  sun 
Cease  his  blazing  course  to  run. 

4  Scenes  will  vary,  friends  grow  strange. 
But  the  Changeless  cannot  change: 
Gladly  will  I  journey  on, 

With  his  arm  to  lean  upon. 

In  1853  Rev.  John  Ross  Macduff,  D.  D., 
published  thirty-one  hymns,  of  which  this  is 
perhaps  the  best,  in  a  small  volume  called 
Altar  Stones.  He  entitled  it,  "  Support  in 
Christ."  The  text  which  is  suggested  is 
Deuteronomy  33  :  27  :  "  The  eternal  God  is 
thy  refuge,  and  underneath  are  the  everlast- 
ing arms."  It  is  the  fashion  in  our  time  to 
try  to  break  the  confidence  of  the  common 
people  in  the  book  of  Deuteronomy,  as  not 
having  been  written  by  Moses.  It  would  be 
a  pity  to  lose  such  a  verse  as  this.  When 
the  Lord  Jesus  was  wishing  to  overthrow 
Satan  in  the  great  temptation,  he  took  three 
texts  of  Scripture  only  for  the  attack,  and 
every  one  of  them  was  from  Deuteronomy, 
and  every  one  did  service  effectively.  Saints 
ought  to  love  a  book  that  the  devil  hates  and 
fears  so  much. 

743  Isaiah  35  :  8-10.  7s. 

Children  of  the  heavenly  King, 
As  ye  journey,  sweetly  sing; 
Sing  your  Saviour's  worthy  praise, 
Glorious  in  his  works  and  ways. 

2  Ye  are  traveling  home  to  God 
In  the  way  the  fathers  trod  ; 
They  are  happy  now,  and  ye 
Soon  their  happiness  shall  see. 

3  Shout,  ye  little  flock,  and  blest! 
You  on  Jesus'  throne  shall  rest  ; 
There  your  seat  is  now  prepared  : 
There  your  kingdom  and  reward. 

4  Fear  not,  brethren  ;  joyful  stand 
On  the  borders  of  your  land  ; 
Jesus  Christ,  your  Father's  Son, 
Bids  you  undismayed  go  on. 

5  Lord,  submissive  make  us  go. 
Gladly  leaving  all  below  ; 
Only  thou  our  Leader  be. 

And  we  still  will  follow  thee. 

This  is  probably   considered   the  best   of 

Rev.  John  Cennick's  hymns.     The  majority 

of  the  singing-books  in  Christendom  for"  the 

last  hundred  years  have  contained  it.     It  ap- 

21 


322 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


peared  in  1742  in  his  Sacred  Hymns  for  the 
Children  of  God  tn  the  Days  of  their  Pil- 
grimage. There  it  had  twelve  stanzas,  and 
was  entitled,  "  Encouragement  to  Praise." 
What  a  history  a  good  hymn  has  !  Think  of 
doing  something  that  will  cheer  God's  dear 
children,  as  this  praise-song  has,  for  a  hun- 
dred and  fifty  years  already  ! 

744  Redeeming  Love.  7s. 

Now  begin  the  heavenly  theme, 
Sing  aloud  in  Jesus'  name  ; 
YC;  who  Jesus'  kindness  prove. 
Triumph  in  redeeming  love. 

2  Ye,  who  see  the  Father's  grace 
Beaming  in  the  Saviour's  face, 
As  to  Canaan  on  ye  move, 
Praise  and  bless  redeeming  love. 

3  Mourning  souls,  dry  up  yourtears  ; 
Banish  all  your  guilty  fears; 

See  your  guilt  and  curse  remove, 
Canceled  by  redeeming  love. 

4  Welcome,  all  by  sin  opprest, 
Welcome  to  his  sacred  rest ; 
Nothing  brought  him  from  above, 
Nothing  but  redeeming  love. 

5  Hither,  then,  your  music  bring, 
Strike  aloud  each  joyful  string; 
Mortals,  join  the  host  above. 
Join  to  praise  redeeming  love. 

Much  doubt  is  expressed  by  hymnologists 
as  to  the  Rev.  John  Langford's  right  to  be 
credited  with  the  authorship  of  this  hymn. 
It  appeared  in  1776,  in  a  volume  of  Hymns 
and  Spiritual  Songs,  published  by  him.  In 
the  preface  to  the  second  edition  he  says  that 
all  his  own  compositions  were  marked  with  an 
asterisk  ;  this  piece  is  not  so  marked,  and  the 
fact  is  that  the  piece  had  been  published  thir- 
teen years  before,  1763,  in  the  Appendix  to 
Madan's  Psalms  and  Hymns,  without  a 
name.  Of  Mr.  Langford's  personal  history 
we  know  only  that  he  was  at  first  connected 
with  the  Methodists,  but  afterward  joined  a 
Baptist  Church  in  Eagle  Street,  London.  He 
preached  in  a  London  chapel  in  1765,  but  was 
not  regularly  ordained  until  1766.  Twelve 
years  were  spent  in  this  pastorate ;  then  he 
went  to  Rose  Lane,  Ratcliff,  and  finally  to 
Bunhill  Row.  Here,  however,  he  was  not 
successful.  He  wasted  the  fortune  which  he 
had  inherited,  and  died  in  poverty  and  dis- 
tress about  the  year  1 790. 

745  Guidance.  8s,  7s,  4s. 

Guide  me,  O  thou  great  Jehovah, 
Pilgrim  through  this  barren  land  ; 

1  am  weak,  but  thou  art  mighty; 
Hold  me  with  thy  powerful  hand ; 

Bread  of  heaven. 
Feed  me  till  I  want  no  more. 

2  Open  thou  the  cry-stal  fountain 
Whence  the  healing  streams  do  flow; 

Let  the  fiery,  cloudy  pillar 
Lead  me  all  my  journey  through ; 

Strong  Deliverer, 
Be  thou  still  my  Strength  and  Shield. 


3  When  I  tread  the  verge  of  Jordan, 

Bid  my  anxious  fears  subside  ; 
Death  of  death  !  and  hell's  Destruction! 

Land  me  safe  on  Canaan's  side; 
Songs  of  praises 

1  will  ever  give  to  thee. 

Rev.  William  Williams  was  called  in  his 
day  "  the  sweet  singer  of  Whales."  He  was 
born  at  Cefn-y-Coed,  in  the  parish  of  Llan- 
fair-y-bryn,  near  Llandovery,  in  171 7.  He 
preached,  although  he  never  went  beyond 
deacon's  orders  in  the  Established  Church  ; 
he  had  a  curacy  in  1740  at  Llanddewi-Aberg- 
wesyn,  but  before  long  he  became  identified 
with  what  was  called  the  Calvinistic  Methodist 
Connection.  For  more  than  a  generation  he 
made  his  voice  heard  as  a  singer  and  preacher 
wherever  the  uncouth  but  tenderly-cherished 
words  of  his  native  tongue  were  familiar.  He 
was  famous  as  a  revivalist,  and  marvelously 
popular  all  through  North  and  South  Wales. 
He  died  at  Pantycelyn,  January  ii,  1791. 

Of  this  poem  now  before  us  it  needs  only 
to  be  said  that  William  Williams  wrote  it  in 
Welsh,  and  it  was  published  in  his  Alleluia, 
1745.  The  earliest  translation  of  it  into  Eng- 
lish was  made  by  Rev.  Peter  Williams  of 
Carmarthen,  1771,  and  published  in  his 
Hymns  oti  Various  Subjects.  Then  Rev. 
William  Williams  accepted  a  portion  of  the 
other  version,  added  a  new  stanza  to  what  he 
took,  and  printed  the  whole  on  a  leaflet,  with 
this  heading :  "  A  Favorite  Hymn  sung  by 
Lady  Huntingdon's  Young  Collegians. 
Printed  by  the  desire  of  many  Christian 
friends.  Lord,  give  it  thy  blessing !"  Thus 
it  was  adopted  into  the  Lady  Huntingdon 
Collectioti,  sHoowX.  1772. 

One  line  in  the  third  stanza,  "  Death  of 
death,  and  hell's  Destruction,"  has  caused  a 
great  deal  of  worry  first  and  last.  Singers 
seemed  not  to  understand  it.  Jesus  Christ  is 
the  "  Death  of  death,"  and  the  Destruction  of 
hell ;  he  is  here  personified  and  adoringly  ad- 
dressed by  the  soul  which  wishes  to  be 
landed  out  of  reach  of  death  and  hell,  safe 
"  on  Canaan's  side  "  of  Jordan.  The  Ameri- 
can Methodist  Hymnal  has  cut  out  the  invo- 
cation bodily,  and  substituted  the  tame  line, 
"  Bear  me  through  the  swelling  current." 
746  "Lead  us."  8s,  7s.  61. 

Lead  us,  heavenly  Father,  lead  us 
O'er  the  world's  tempestuous  sea ; 

Guard  us,  guide  us,  keep  us,  feed  us. 
For  we  have  no  help  but  thee; 

Yet  possessing    Every  blessing. 
If  our  God  our  Father  be. 

2  Saviour,  breathe  forgiveness  o'er  us; 
AH  our  weakness  thou  dost  know  ; 

Thou  didst  tread  this  earth  before  us ; 

Thou  didst  feel  its  keenest  woe; 
Lone  and  dreary.     Faint  and  weary, 

Through  the  desert  thou  didst  go. 


COURAGE  AND   CHEER. 


323 


3  Spirit  of  our  God,  descending, 
Fill  our  hearts  with  heavenly  joy  ; 

Love  with  every  passion  blending, 
Pleasure  that  can  never  cloy  ; 

Thus  provided.     Pardoned,  guided, 
Nothing  can  our  peace  destroy. 

A  very  beautiful  hymn  by  James  Edmes- 
ton,  invoking  the  Holy  Trinity,  with  an  ex- 
quisite felicity  of  address  to  each  one  of  the 
three  Persons  in  the  Godhead  in  turn.  It  ap- 
peared in  his  Sacred  Lyrics,  1821.  There 
we  have  the  account  of  its  composition  ;  the 
author  gives  it  the  title  :  "  Hymn,  written  for 
the  Children  of  the  London  Orphan  Asylum." 
It  has  had  a  wide  circulation ;  and  has  been 
rendered  into  many  languages ;  and  the 
record  is  carefully  made  of  it  also,  as  if  the 
special  honor  had  to  be  noted,  that  it  had 
been  translated  into  one  dead  one,  namely, 
the  Latin,  ''Due  tios,  Genitor  Ccelesits." 

7A7  "  The  Pillar  Guide."  8s,  7s,  4s. 

Saviour,  through  the  desert  lead  us. 

Without  thee  we  cannot  go  ; 
Thou  from  cruel  chains  hast  freed  us. 

Thou  hast  laid  the  tyrant  low  : 
Let  thy  presence 

Cheer  us  all  our  journey  through. 

2  When  we  halt,  no  track  discovering, 
Fearful  lest  we  go  astray, 

O'er  our  path  the  pillar  hovering, 
Fire  by  night,  and  cloud  by  day, 

Shall  direct  us: 
Thus  we  shall  not  miss  our  way. 

3  When  our  foes  in  arms  assemble, 
Ready  to  obstruct  our  way. 

Suddenly  their  hearts  shall  tremble. 
Thou  wilt  strike  them  with  dismay; 

And  thy  people, 
Led  by  thee,  shall  win  the  day. 

Rev.  Thomas  Kelly  again:  in  his  Psalms 
and  Hymns,  1802,  we  find  this  excellent  song 
for  the  House  of  our  Pilgrimage.  It  is  en- 
titled "  Divine  Guidance  Desired,"  and  the 
author  has  added  a  reference  to  Psalm  78  :  53  : 
"And  he  led  them  on  safely,  so  that  they 
feared  not;  but  the  sea  overwhelmed  their 
enemies."  The  picturesque  suggestion,  there- 
fore, is  of  Israel  at  the  momeait  when  the  pil- 
lar of  fire  and  cloud  was  turned  to  face  their 
foes :  "  And  it  came  to  pass,  that  in  the 
morning  watch  the  Lord  looked  into  the  host 
of  the  Egyptians  through  the  pillar  of  fire  and 
of  the  cloud,  and  troubled  the  host  of  the 
Egyptians."  What  wonder  that  they  were 
in  consternation  when  the  glance  of  Jehovah's 
awful  presence  came  flashing  across  the 
swirl  of  waters  !  - 


748  "  Christian  Martyrs." 

Let  the  church  new  anthems  raise ; 

Wake  the  song  of  gladness  ; 
God  himself  to  joy  and  praise 

Turns  the  martyrs'  sadness  : 


P.  M. 


Bright  the  day  that  won  their  crown. 
Opened  heaven's  bright  portal, 

As  they  laid  the  mortal  down 
To  put  on  the  immortal. 

.  2  Never  flinched  they  from  the  flame, 

From  the  torture  never ; 
Vain  the  foeman's  sharpest  aim, 

Satan's  best  endeavor : 
For  by  faith  they  saw  the  land 

Decked  in  all  its  glory, 
Where  triumphant  now  they  stand 

With  the  victor's  story. 

3  Up  and  follow.  Christian  men  I 
Press  through  toil  and  sorrow ; 

Spurn  the  nignt  of  fear,  and  then. 
Oh,  the  glorious  morrow  ! 

Who  will  venture  on  the  strife? 
Blest  who  first  begin  it  ; 

Who  will  grasp  the  Land  of  Life  ? 
\  Warriors,  up  and  win  it ! 

This  is  another  of  Rev.  Dr.  John  Mason 
Neale's  fine  translations  from  the  Greek,  first 
published  in  his  Hymns  of  the  Eastern 
Church,  1862.  The  original  is  the  work  of 
St.  Joseph  the  Hymnographer.  He  was  a 
slave  in  Crete  for  many  years,  having  been 
captured  by  pirates ;  but  on  regaining  liberty 
he  returned  to  Constantinople  and  established 
there  a  monastery,  which  quickly  became 
famous  through  his  eloquence  as  an  orator. 
A  dispute  as  to  matters  of  worship  led  to  his 
banishment,  but  he  was  recalled  by  the  Em- 
press Theodora  and  raised  to  a  position  of 
g^eat  influence.  Friendship  for  his  superior, 
Photius,  Patriarch  of  Constantinople,  who  fell 
into  disfavor,  led  to  a  second  exile,  in  which 
he  died,  A.  D.  883.  The  poem  given  here 
was  written  in  celebration  of  two  saints, 
Timothy  and  his  wife,  Maura,  whose  martyr- 
dom was  commemorated  by  the  Church  of 
Constantinople.  The  words  are  full  of  a 
spirit  so  heroic  that  the  dreaded  foe,  death,  is 
robbed  of  half  his  terrors.  We  are  reminded 
by  St.  Paul  that  this  is  "  the  last  enemy  that 
shall  be  destroyed."  Perhaps  no  writer  of 
our  time  has  better  expressed  unfaltering 
bravery  and  confidence  in  the  face  of  death 
than  Robert  Browning  in  his  "  Prospice," 
which  has  been  pronounced  one  of  the  grand- 
est of  contemporary  poems : 

"  I  was  ever  a  fighter,  so— one  fight  more. 

The  best  and  the  last ! 
I  would  hate  that  death  bandaged  my  eyes,  and 
forbore. 

And  bade  me  creep  past. 
No  !  let  me  taste  the  whole  of  it,  fare  like  my  peers. 

The  heroes  of  old. 
Bear  the  brunt,  in  a  minute  pay  glad  life's  arrears 

Of  pain,  darkness  and  cold. 
For  sudden  the  worst  turns  the  best  to  the  brave; 

The  black  minute  's  at  end. 
And  the  elements'  rage,  the  fiend  voices  that  rave. 

Shall  dwindle,  shall  blend. 
Shall  change,  shall    become  first  a   peace  out  of 
pain. 

Then  a  light,  then  thy  breast, 
O  thou  soul  of  my  soul !  I  shall  clasp  thee  again, 

And  with  God  be  the  rest !" 


324 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


749  "  Looking  unto  Jesus."  83,73,75. 
Look  to  Jesus!  till,  reviving, 

Faith  and  love  thy  life-springs  swell. 
Strength  for  all  good  things  deriving; 

Jesus  hath  done  all  things  well. 
Work,  while  it  is  called  to-day, 
Works  which  shall  not  fade  away. 

2  Look  to  Jesus,  prayerful  waking 
Where  thy  feet  on  roses  tread  ; 

Follow,  worldly  pomp  forsaking. 

With  thy  cross,  where  he  hath  led. 
Baffled  shall  the  tempter  flee, 
And  God's  angels  come  to  thee. 

3  Look  to  Jesus,  when,  dark  lowering, 
Perils  thy  horizon  dim  ; 

Once  from  him  a  band  fell  cowering; 

Calm  in  tempests,  look  on  him ; 
Wind  and  billow,  fire  and  flood — 
FoHAard  !  brave  by  trusting  God. 

4  Look  to  Jesus  still  to  shield  thee, 
When  no  longer  thou  may'st  live ; 

In  that  last  need,  he  will  yield  thee 
Peace  the  world  can  never  give ; 
He  who  finished  all  for  thee 
Takes  thee,  then,  with  him  to  be. 

A  very  spirited  translation  of  a  Swedish 
hymn,  made  by  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Charles,  the 
author  of  many  books,  among  which  perhaps 
the  best  known  is  the  Schonberg-Cotta  Family. 
This  lady  was  born  at  Tavistock,  in  Devonshire, 
England,  Januarj^  2, 1828.  She  was  the  daugh- 
ter of  John  Rundle,  who  was  at  one  time  a 
Member  of  Parliament,  and  Deputy-Lieuten- 
ant for  the  County  of  Devon.  Her  husband 
was  Andrew  Paton  Charles,  to  whom  she  was 
married,  March  20,  1851  ;  he  died  June  4, 
1868.  The  literary  life  of  Mrs.  Charles  began 
in  1850  with  a  translation  of  Neander's  Z^^^/ 
in  Dark  Places  ;  Memorials  of  Christian  Life 
in  the  Middle  Ages.  She  is  now  living  at 
Hampstead,  near  London.  She  has  been  more 
known  as  the  WTiter  of  historical  novels  of 
the  highest  class  than  by  her  contributions  to 
hymnals. 

A  Swedish  bishop,  Franz  Michael  Franzen, 
was  the  author  of  the  original  of  this  fine  lyric. 
He  was  born  atUleaborg,  in  Finland,  in  1772, 
and  studied  at  the  University  of  Abo,  where 
he  afterward  became  Librarian  and  Professor 
of  Literary  History.  After  his  ordination  he 
was  successively  minister  at  Kumla,  Orebro, 
Sweden,  and  Santa  Clara,  in  Stockholm.  He 
became  Bishop  of  Hernosand  in  1 841,  in  which 
place  he  died  in  1847.  He  wrote  many  poems, 
and  commenced  an  epic,  Gustavus  Adolphus 
in  Germany,  which  he  never  finished.  The 
English  rendering  of  the  hymn  before  us  is 
found  in  Christian  Life  in  Song,  1858.  The 
Swedish  piece  commences,  "■Jesum  haf  i 
standigt  nmtne." 

750  "  Tried,  Precious,  Sure."  Isa.  28: 16.     8s,  7s,  7s. 

Through  the  yesterday  of  ages, 
Jesus,  thou  hast  been  the  same  ; 

Through  our  own  life's  checkered  pages, 
Still  the  one  dear  changeless  name  ; 


Well  may  we  in  thee  confide. 
Faithful  Saviour,  proved  and  tried. 

2  Joyfully  we  stand  and  witness 
Thou  art  still  to-day  the  same; 

In  thy  perfect,  glorious  fitness. 

Meeting  ever\-  need  and  claim ; 
Chiefest  often  thousand  thou  ! 
Saviour,  O  most  precious,  now  ! 

3  Gazing  down  the  far  for  ever. 
Brighter  glows  the  one  sweet  name. 

Steadfast  radiance  paling  never, 

Jesus,  Jesus  !  still  the  same ; 
Evermore  thou  shalt  endure. 
Our  own  Saviour,  strong  and  pure. 

Miss  Frances  Ridley  Havergal  continued  to 
work  while  she  lived,  and  to  write  as  long  al- 
most as  she  breathed.  She  composed  this 
hymn  at  Leamington  in  Warwickshire,  Eng- 
land, November,  1876.  It  was  published  two 
years  later,  in  \\tx  Loyal  Responses,  1878.  She 
entitled  it,  "  Jesus  always  the  same."  The 
writer  of  this  annotation  was  once,  when  in 
serious  weakness  and  ill  health,  at  this  same 
"  Hydro,"  as  they  call  Sanitariums  in  Eng- 
land. He  sat  down  in  his  listlessness  on  a 
certain  occasion  to  thrum  away  a  tedious  hour 
on  the  piano  in  the  common  drawing-room. 
After  a  while  some  one  of  the  guests  said 
very  quietly,  "  That  was  one  of  Fannie  Haver- 
gal's  pieces ;  she  often  played  and  sung  for  us 
when  she  stayed  here."  It  will  be  a  singular 
experience  for  any  man  on  that  day  when  he 
suddenly  finds  himself  unconsciously  on  the 
seat  where  that  wonderful  creature  of  God 
used  to  sit  to  compose  her  music  and  to  sing 
her  hymns  ! 

75  I  "Christ,  our  Head."  8s,  7s,  7s. 

Rise,  ye  children  of  salvatioi  , 
All  who  cleave  to  Christ  the  Head  : 

Wake,  arise!  O  mighty  nation. 
Ere  the  foe  on  Zion  tread — 

He  draws  nigh,  and  would  defy 

All  the  hosts  of  God  most  high. 

2  Saints  and  heroes  long  before  us 
Firmly  on  this  ground  have  stood  : 

See  their  baimers  waving  o'er  us — 

"Conquerors  through  the  Saviour's  blood  !" 
Ground  we  hold,  whereon  of  old 
Fought  the  faithful  and  the  bold. 

3  When  his  servants  stand  before  him. 
Each  receiving  his  reward  ; 

When  his  saints  in  light  adore  him, 

Giving  glory  to  the  Lord — 
Victory !  our  song  shall  be, 
Like  tiie  thunder  of  the  sea! 

This  hymn  was  taken  for  I^audes  Dotnitii 
from,  the  London  Temple  Hymm-Book,  1867. 
Who  made  the  English  version  it  is  not  easy 
to  say.  It  is  said  to  have  appeared  first  in 
Mrs.  Bevan's  Songs  of  Eternal  Life,  1858. 
But  it  is  not  announced  that  the  compiler  of 
that  collection  was  the  author  of  it.  It  will 
have  to  satisfy  us  for  a  while  to  say  that  it  is 
a  rendering  from  "Auf  /  ihr  Christen,  Christt 


LOVE   AND    COMMUNION    WITH   CHRIST. 


325 


Glieder,"  and  that  this  German  lyric  was 
composed  by  Rev.  Justus  Falckner,  the  first 
Lutheran  clergyman  ever  ordained  in 
America. 

He  was  born  in  Langenreinsdorf,  Saxony, 
November  22,  1672,  and  began  his  theologi- 
cal studies  at  the  University  of  Halle  in  1693  ; 
but  after  his  graduation,  feeling  that  the  re- 
sponsibility of  the  ministerial  calling  was 
greater  than  he  cared  to  undertake,  he  ac- 
cepted a  power  of  attorney  for  the  sale  of 
certain  of  the  lands  of  William  Penn,  in 
Pennsylvania,  and  came  to  America.  In 
1701  he  sold  a  large  tract  of  this  property  to 
a  number  of  Swedes  for  the  purpose  of 
founding  a  colony,  and  by  his  intercourse 
with  the  leaders  of  this  little  body  of  emi- 
grants, who  were  men  of  deep  piety,  he  was 
led  to  reconsider  his  views  on  the  subject  of 
the  ministry,  and  so  was  ordained  in  the 
Swedish  Church  of  Wicacoa,  Philadelphia, 
November  24,  1703.  He  had  charge  suc- 
cessively of  the  Dutch  settlement  near  New 
Hannover,  and  of  the  Lutheran  congregations 
at  New  York  and  Albany.  He  proved  a 
zealous  and  efficient  laborer  in  the  Master's 
vineyard,  and  was  called  to  his  rest  about 
the  year  1723. 


752 


/.  Samuel  3  :  10. 


8s,  7s,  7s. 


Master,  speak  !  thy  servant  heareth, 
Longing  for  thy  gracious  word, 

Longing  for  thy  voice  that  cheereth  ; 
Master,  let  it  now  be  heard. 

1  am  listening,  Lord,  for  thee ; 
What  hast  thou  to  say  to  me  ? 

2  Often  through  my  heart  is  pealing 
Many  another  voice  than  thine  ; 

Many  an  unwilled  echo  stealing 

From  the  walls  of  this  thy  shrine. 
Let  thy  longed-for  accents  fall ; 
Master,  speak  !  and  silence  all. 

3  Master,  speak !  I  do  not  doubt  thee, 
Though  so  tearfully  I  plead  ; 

Saviour,  Shepherd  !  oh,  without  thee 

Life  would  be  a  blank  indeed. 
But  I  long  for  fuller  light, 
Deeper  love  and  clearer  sight. 

4  Speak  to  me  by  name,  O  Master, 
Let  me  know  it  is  to  me ; 

Speak,  that  I  may  follow  faster. 

With  a  step  more  firm  and  free. 
Where  the  Shepherd  leads  the  flock, 
In  the  shadow  of  the  rock  ! 

The  first  line  of  this  hymn  marks  it  as  the 
full  utterance  of  Frances  Ridley  Havergal's 
life :  "  Master,  speak !  thy  servant  heareth." 
She  entitled  it,  "  Fellowship  with  and  Assist- 
ance from  Christ  desired."  It  was  written 
on  Sunday  evening  May  19,  1867,  at  Weston- 
super-Mare.  It  may  be  found  in  her  Minis- 
try of  Song,  1 869.  No  definite  mention  of  a 
text  is  made,  but  the  poem  evidently  repro- 
duces the  scene,  and  presents  the  conversa- 


tion between  Samuel  and  Eli,  as  recorded  in 
I.  Samuel  3:1-10.  It  is  one  of  the  most 
dramatic  passages  in  the  Old  Testament,  and 
this  poem  voices  the  sentiment  as  it  makes 
appeal  to  a  genuine  Christian's  heart. 

753  "  Jesus  only  P'  Ss,  7s,  7s. 

"Jesus  only!"    In  the  shadow 

Of  the  cloud  so  chill  and  dim. 
We  are  clinging,  loving,  trusting. 

He  with  us,  and  we  with  him  : 
All  unseen,  though  ever  nigh, 
"Jesus  only !" — all  our  cry. 

2  "  Jesus  only  !"  in  the  glory, 
When.the  shadows  all  are  flown, 

Seeing  him  in  all  his  beauty, 
Satisfied  with  him  alone; 

May  we  join  his  ransomed  throng, 

"Jesus  only!" — all  our  song! 

This  was  written  by  Miss  Frances  Ridley 
Havergal  at  Pyrmont  Villa,  December  4,  1870. 
She  entitled  it,  "  Jesus  All  in  All,"  and  pub- 
lished it  in  Under  ike  Surface,  1874. 


754 


"  He  knoweth  our  frame." 


8s,  7s,  7s. 


Yes,  he  knows  the  way  is  dreary, 
Knows  the  weakness  of  our  frame. 

Knows  that  hand  and  heart  are  weary, 
He  in  all   points  felt  the  same. 

He  is  near  to  help  and  bless  ; 

Be  not  weary,  onward  press. 

2  Look  to  him,  who  once  was  willing 
All  his  glory  to  resign, 

That,  for  thee  the  law  fulfilling, 

All  his  merit  might  be  thine. 
Strive  to  follow,  day  by  day. 
Where  his  footsteps  mark  the  way. 

3  Look  to  him,  the  Lord  of  Glory, 
Tasting  death  to  win  thy  life  ; 

Gazing  on  that  wondrous  story, 
Canst  thou  falter  in  the  strife  ? 
Is  it  not  new  life  to  know 
That  the  Lord  hath  loved  thee  so  ? 

4  Look  to  him,  and  faith  shall  brighten, 
Hope  shall  soar,  and  love  shall  burn, 

Peace  once  more  thy  heart  shall  lighten ; 

Rise,  he  calleth  thee,  return  ! 
Be  not  weary  on  thy  way  ; 
Jesus  is  thy  strength  and  stay. 

Another  of  Miss  Frances  Ridley  Havergal's 
priceless  hymns.  She  wrote  it  in  1 867,  entitled 
it,  "  Encouragement,"  and  published  it  in  her 
Ministry  of  Song,  1 869.  The  Scripture  ref- 
erence is  to  Psalm  103:  13,  14,  and  is  very 
suggestive :  "  Like  as  a  father  pitieth  his  chil- 
dren, so  the  Lord  pitieth  them  that  fear  him. 
For  he  knoweth  our  frame  ;  he  remembereth 
that  we  are  dust." 


755  None  but  Jesus. 

None  but  Christ ;  his  merit  hides  me, 
He  was  faultless — I  am  fair : 

None  but  Christ,  his  wisdom  guides  me, 
He  was  outcast — I  'm  his  care. 

2  None  but  Christ :  his  Spirit  seals  me, 
Gives  me  freedom  with  control ; 

None  but  Christ,  his  bruising  heals  me, 
And  his  sorrow  soothes  my  soul. 


8s,  7s. 


326 


CHRISTIAN   EXPERIENCE. 


3  None  but  Christ :  his  life  sustains  me, 

Strength  and  song  to  me  he  is ; 
None  but  Christ,  his  love  constrains  me, 

He  is  mine  and  I  am  his. 

In  1876  Mrs.  Anne  Ross  Cousin,  daughter 
of  Mr.  David  Ross  Cundell  of  Leith,  and 
widow  of  Rev.  William  Cousin,  an  honored 
minister  of  the  Free  Church  of  Scotland,  set- 
tled at  Melrose,  published  a  volume  called 
Immanuel's  Land  and  Other  Pieces,  by  A.  R. 
C.  This  contains  a  hundred  and  seven 
poems,  most  of  which  would  perhaps  be  con- 
sidered unequal  to  the  exigencies  of  public 
worship,  but  all  of  which  are  spiritual  and 
good  for  private  devotion.  The  hymn  before 
us  is  included  in  this  collection.  It  is  a  sim- 
ple-hearted outspoken  utterance  of  her  soul's 
affection  for  her  Lord. 

Painters  assure  us  that  among  the  most 
painful  experiences  they  are  called  to  endure 
is  that  of  meeting  and  conversing  with  a  so- 
called  critic  who  seems  utterly  unable  to  com- 
prehend the  force,  meaning,  or  beauty  of  their 
pictures,  through  lack  of  artistic  or  imagina- 
tive perception.  Such  have  no  "  mind's  eye, 
Horatio."  They  are  deficient  in  a  true  sym- 
pathy with  the  subject,  and  so  fail  altogether 
in  liveliness. 

Now,  we  are  sure  we  have  observed  a  like 
dullness,  and  recorded  a  like  poverty  of  re- 
sults, in  many  a  case  while  we  have  been  con- 
sidering the  growth  of  Christians  in  the  com- 
munion and  companionship  of  Christ.  They 
do  not  appear  able  to  see  him  as  he  is  revealed 
in  the  Scriptures  for  their  admiration.  Hence 
it  has  to  be  urged  with  much  painstaking, 
that,  since  he  is  proffered  to  us  as  our  only 
model,  there  needs  to  be  a  persistent  endeavor 
to  ascertain  by  actual  inquiry  the  secret  of  his 
illustrious  life.  For  the  very  earliest  condition 
of  any  success  in  a  work  of  imitation  must  be 
the  keen  and  delicate — that  is,  as  we  ought  to 
term  it,  an  artistic — appreciation  of  the  pat- 
tern offered.  Out  of  this  would  come  swiftly 
a  full  glow  of  passionate  love  and  enthusiasm. 

756  "Jesus  only."  8s,  7s. 

Jesus  only,  when  the  morning 

Beams  upon  the  path  I  tread ; 
Jesus  only,  when  the  darkness 

Gathers  round  my  weary  head. 

2  Jesus  only,  when  the  billows 
Cold  and  sullen  o'er  me  roll ; 

Jesus  only,  when  the  trumpet 

Rends  the  tomb  and  wakes  the  soul. 

3  Jesus  only^  when,  adoring. 

Saints  their  crowns  before  him  bring  ; 
Jesus  only,  I  will,  joyous, 
Through  eternal  ages  sing. 

This  hymn  was  written  by  the  Rev.  Elias 
Nason,  and  was  sung  with  great  power  and 


REV.  ELIAS  NASON. 

pathos  at  his  funeral.  The  author  was  a  min- 
ister connected  with  the  Congregationalist 
Church  in  New  England,  known  and  beloved 
for  many  vigorous  and  useful  years.  He  was 
born  at  Wrentham,  Mass.,  April  21,  1811.  He 
says  himself :  "In  looking  over  the  genea- 
logical papers  in  our  old  family  Bible,  I  dis- 
cover that  I  was  introduced  into  this  bright 
and  beautiful  world  at  two  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon of  the  first  Sunday  after  Easter."  He 
prepared  for  college,  1 828,  at  Wrentham  Acad- 
emy, and,  1829,  at  the  school  in  Marlborough, 
and  was  admitted  to  the  freshman  class  in 
Brown  University,  1831.  Teaching  in  the 
district  schools,  like  many  of  the  best  men  of 
New  England,  and  in  other  ways  carrying 
himself  along  through  the  costly  years  of  study 
as  they  were  in  those  days,  he  was  graduated 
in  due  course  in  1835.  Then  he  commenced 
teaching  at  the  South.  He  was  married  in 
Georgia  to  Miss  Myra  Anne  Bigelow.  He 
made  public  profession  of  religion  in  1839, 
and  shortly  began  study  in  preparation  for  the 
ministry.  In  1849  he  was  licensed  to  preach, 
and  he  says  he  did  it  "  with  fear  and  trem- 
bling." 

But  he  continued  his  profession  of  teaching, 
becoming  the  principal  of  the  High  School  in 
Milford,  Mass.  Ultimately  he  was  ordained  as 
pastor  of  the  Congregational  church  in  Natick, 
Mass.,  May  5,  1852.  Six  years  after  he  accept- 
ed a  call  from  the  Mystic  Church,  in  Medford, 
Mass.,  "  a  church  that  receives  its  name,  not 
from  its  doctrines,  but   from  the  river  that 


LOVE  AND   COMMUNION   WITH   CHRIST. 


327 


flows  through  the  town."  From  this  he  re- 
signed in  i860,  and  in  the  spring  of  1861  was 
again  settled  in  Exeter,  New  Hampshire. 

When  he  left  this,  his  last,  charge  in  1865, 
he  purchased  a  farm  in  North  Billerica,  Mass., 
and  took  up  his  abode  there.  He  named  that 
beautiful  homestead  "  Brightside  "  most  ap- 
propriately, and  there  passed  the  remaining 
twenty  years  of  his  life.  He  was  often  preach- 
ing, sometimes  assuming  steady  oversight  of 
small  churches  for  a  while,  lecturing  and  writ- 
ing, editing  books,  and  setting  out  trees,  and 
in  1 874  for  a  recess  spending  fourteen  months 
in  Europe.  He  celebrated  his  Golden  Wed- 
ding, November  29,  1886.  By  this  time  he 
was  well  known  as  a  hymnologist;  in  1857 
he  had  published  his  Congregational  Hymn 
Book,  really  one  of  the  best  and  tastefuUest 
ever  issued  in  New  England  ;  and  in  1863  he 
was  associated  with  Dr.  Kirk  in  preparing  the 
Songs  for  Social  and  Public  Worship.  In  this 
latter  volume  the  piece  now  before  us  ap- 
peared. It  was  written  at  Natick  somewhere 
about  1856,  and  was  first  given  to  the  public 
in  the  Wellspring  of  Boston,  with  the  au- 
thor's own  music  attached  to  it.  Mr.  Nason 
died  at  "  Brightside,"  his  home  in  North  Bil- 
lerica, June  17,  1887.  Over  the  pulpit,  appro- 
priately wreathed  with  smilax,  evergreen,  and 
daisies,  was  a  tablet  with  these  words  in 
white  letters  :  "  Blessed  are  the  dead  who  die 
in  the  Lord." 

757  "  With  you  always."  8s,  7s. 

Always  with  us,  always  with  us — 
Words  of  cheer  and  words  of  love ; 

Thus  the  risen  Saviour  whispers, 
From  his  dwelling-place  above. 

2  With  us  when  we  toil  in  sadness, 
Sowing  much  and  reaping  none ; 

Telling  us  that  in  the  future 
Golaen  harvests  shall  be  won. 

3  With  us  when  the  storm  is  sweeping 
O'er  our  pathway  dark  and  drear ; 

Waking  hope  within  our  bosoms. 
Stilling  every  anxious  fear. 

4  With  us  in  the  lonely  valley, 
When  we  cross  the  chilling  stream — 

Lighting  up  the  steps  to  glory 
With  salvation's  radiant  beam. 

"  Lo,  I  am  with  you  alway,  even  unto  the 
end  of  the  world,"  Matthew  28:20,  is  the 
text  upon  which  the  hymn  before  us  is  based. 
Its  author  is  Rev.  Edwin  Henry  Nevin,  D.  D., 
who,  according  to  our  present  information,  is 
residing  in  Philadelphia,  Pa.  He  was  born  in 
Shippensburg,  Pa.,  May  9,  1814,  and  received 
his  education  at  Jefferson  College  and  at 
Princeton  Seminary.  In  1842  he  became 
President  of  Franklin  College,  and  subse- 
quently had  charge  of  a  number  of  Presby- 
terian churches.     From  1857  to   1868,  how- 


ever, he  was  minister  to  two  Congfregational 
churches.  For  six  years  thereafter  he  was 
obliged  to  relinquish  all  pastoral  work  on  ac- 
count of  ill-health  ;  then  he  received  a  call  to 
Lancaster,  Pa.,  and  went  there  as  minister  of 
the  Reformed  Church.  Advancing  years 
have  compelled  his  retirement  from  active 
life.  As  to  his  poems,  he  says :  "  '  Always 
with  us'  was  written  in  1857.  My  hymns 
were  written  chiefly  on  Sabbath  evenings, 
after  I  had  been  preaching  through  the  day, 
and  was  somewhat  wearied  with  my  labors. 
The  exercise  seemed  to  be  a  means  of  grace 
to  my  soul." 

758  -<4  Living  Christ.  Ss,  7s. 

Now  I  KNOW  the  great  Redeemer, 
Know  he  lives  and  spreads  his  fame ; 

Lives — and  all  the  heavens  adore  him  ; 
Lives — and  earth  resounds  his  name. 

2  My  Redeemer  lives  within  me, 
Lives — and  heavenly  life  conveys ; 

Lives — and  glory  now  surrounds  me ; 
Lives — and  I  his  name  shall  praise. 

3  Pardon,  peace,  and  full  salvation 
From  my  living  Saviour  flow  ; 

Light,  and  life,  and  consolation — 
AH  the  good  I  e'er  can'  know. 

4  Soon  shall  I  behold  my  Saviour ; 
He  who  lives  and  reigns  above. 

Lives — and  I  shall  live  for  ever, 
Live  and  sing  redeeming  love ! 

Four  hundred  and  fifty-two  hymns  are  ac- 
credited to  Rev.  Richard  Burnham,  the  au- 
thor of  the  piece  before  us.  He  was  born  in 
Guildford,  Surrey,  England,  in  1749,  and  for 
many  years  had  charge  of  two  Baptist 
churches  in  London  :  the  first  in  Little  Chapel 
Street  and  the  second  in  Grafton  Street,  Soho. 
Here  he  spent  the  greater  part  of  his  life, 
laboring  earnestly  in  the  cause  of  Christ,  and 
writing  most  of  his  poems,  which  were  sung 
by  his  own  congregations.  Indeed  his  A'CW 
Hymns  on  Divers  Subjects,  1783,  was  dedi- 
cated, to  his  people.  He  died  October  30, 
1 8 10,  and  was  buried  in  Tottenham  Court 
Chapel,  London.  The  hymn  we  quote  ap- 
peared in  1 794  with  the  title,  "  The  Advocate." 

It  is  to  be  feared  that  many  readers  take 
the  Gospels  altogether  in  fragments ;  their 
investigations  are  disconnected  and  material- 
istic. An  hour  of  chance  perusal,  a  few 
verses  here  and  there  in  one  book  to-day,  and 
far  away  in  another  book  to-morrow,  will 
never  give  any  one  a  balanced  and  complete 
knowledge  of  Jesus  Christ's  character  as  a 
beautiful  whole.  It  would  be  like  looking  at 
a  flower  by  a  microscopic  examination  of  one 
of  its  petals  or  a  few  of  its  pollen-grains,  now 
a  stem  and  then  a  stamen.  We  are  in  dan- 
ger of  losing  all  notion  of  symmetry,  entirety, 
and   living  embodiment  of  perfected  grace. 


328 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE 


We  could  not  analyze  any  man  in  this  way. 
Moreover,  we  sometimes  lose  force  in  pursuit 
of  external  details.  Plant  us  by  the  well  in 
Samaria,  and  we  fall  to  tracing  its  circum- 
ference with  a  measuring-line,  and  sounding 
its  depth  with  a  plummet,  and  trying  to  recall 
some  remembrance  of  Jacob.  Yet  there  sits 
the  Master,  waiting  for  us  to  look  him  in  the 
face  !  Our  entire  being  ought  to  be  awake  to 
its  own  overwhelming  necessities,  until  we  see 
in  Jesus  alone  our  everlasting  and  sufficient 
supply.  He  himself  is  the  well  of  living  water. 
Young  Christians  certainly  are  to  read  the 
Bible  definitely,  that  it  may  disclose  to  them 
more  of  the  Saviour.  Our  souls  faint  for 
help,  and  there  in  Jesus  Christ  we  find  it.  As 
a  Brazilian  slave  seeks  in  the  deep  bed  of  the 
river  for  diamonds,  and  sees  nothing  but  dia- 
monds, and  gathers  nothing  but  diamonds, 
and  thinks  the  day  dreary  and  disastrous 
when  no  diamonds  are  discovered,  so  we 
ought  to  study  the  Gospels  for  instruction 
concerning  Christ,  and  feel  that  the  study  is 
lost  when  no  instruction  is  gained  concerning 
Christ. 


759  "Under  his  Shadow."  7s. 

Saviour,  let  thy  love  for  me 
Keep  me  ever  near  to  thee  ; 
Here  I  feel  no  evil  thing, 
In  the  shadow  of  thy  wing. 

2  When  the  storms  of  care  and  doubt 
Toss  my  weary  soul  about. 
Then  I  flee  for  sheltering 
To  the  shadow  of  thy  wing. 

3  In  the  light  too  great  for  me, 
Blind  and  faint  I  come  to  thee ; 
Then,  dear  Lord,  how  comforting 
Is  the  shadow  of  thy  wing. 

4  When  mv  sorest  troubles  be, 
Let  me  hide  myself  in  thee : 
Even  sorrow  then  can  bring 
But  the  shadow  of  thy  wing. 

5  Soon  the  evening  time  will  come, 
Soon  the  darkness  bring  me  home ; 
Still  my  happy  soul  will  sing, 
'  Tis  the  shadow  of  thy  wing. 

6  Safe  for  ever  to  abide 
Where  the  quiet  waters  glide. 
Never  more  I  need  to  cling 
To  the  shadow  of  thy  wing. 

So  meager  are  the  details  obtainable  as  to 
the  personal  history  of  Miss  H.  O.  Knowlton,  ^g^ 
the  author  of  the  hymn  before  us,  that  we 
can  say  authoritatively  only  that  she  was  at 
school  in  Illinois  when  she  wrote  the  poem ; 
that  she  has  since  married  and  gone  to  live  in 
the  West,  and  her  name  and  identity,  like  those 
of  many  other  good  and  talented  women, 
are  merged  in  those  of  her  husband.  But 
the  few  hymns  she  has  left  behind  her 
are  worth  cherishing.  This  one  in  particular, 
first  published   in   Spiritual  Songs  for  the 


Sunday-School,  1878,  with  its  perfect  meter, 
its  tasteful  refrain,  and  its  devout  spirit,  is 
popular,  as  it  ought  to  be.  She  saw  a  match- 
less beauty  in  a  verse  of  God's  Word,  and 
fixed  it  for  ever  in  our  memories :  Psalm 
63 : 7.  Quickness  in  appreciation  is  very 
delicate,  and  seems  sometimes  a  rare  gift ; 
but  it  can  be  cultivated  even  in  confessedly 
dull  people.  We  can  become  accustomed  to 
detect  the  characteristics  of  our  Master  and 
Model  in  every  line  and  verse  of  the  inspired 
W^ord,  if  we  sincerely  and  sedulously  de- 
sire it. 

And  really  it  is  worth  the  efTort.  When 
we  journey  around  with  him  through  the 
villages,  go  with  him  into  the  mountain  to 
pray,  sit  with  the  eager  multitudes  that  hear 
him  preach,  wonder  with  the  hushed  throngs 
of  common  people  who  marvel  at  his  mira- 
cles— when  we  mark  the  tireless  zeal  to  do 
good  and  be  kind,  the  unflagging  energy  to 
relieve  a  widow's  wail  or  an  orphan's  mourn- 
ing, the  infinite  majesty  preserved  under 
pressure  of  undeserved  abuse,  the  tender 
compassion,  the  considerate  charity,  the  un- 
disturbed meekness,  the  clear  devotion  to 
truth,  the  bending  obedience  of  his  prayerful 
will — oh,  when  we  see  all  this,  as  well  as  the 
measureless  repose  of  power  in  resers'e,  and 
the  grandeur  of  single-hearted  fidelity  to 
purpose — when  each  grace  and  each  beauty 
of  that  faultless  Presence  comes  more  and 
more  frequently  into  view — when  that  recog- 
nized, beloved,  well-known  Form  passes  out 
and  in  under  our  eye,  and  we  have  already 
grown  so  alert  as  to  catch  its  signs  of  coming, 
and  our  loving  souls  begin  to  watch  for  it 
more  than  they  who  watch  for  the  morning — 
then,  ever  clearer  and  ever  nearer,  we  be- 
hold him  whom  we  long  to  see  ;  then,  too,  the 
wish  and  the  yearning  become  more  and 
more  desirous,  until  out  of  the  abundance  of 
the  heart  the  mouth  speaketh,  and  praise  be- 
comes prayer :  "  Oh,  that  I  might  be  like 
thee,  O  Immanuel  I  Oh,  that  I  might  myself 
resemble  him  I  so  much  revere  !  Whom  have 
I  in  heaven  but  thee  }  and  there  is  none  upon 
earth  that  I  desire  beside  thee  !  " 


"I  am  what  I  am." 

Blessed  fountain,  full  of  grace! 

Grace  for  sinners,  grace  for  me, 
To  this  source  alone  I  trace 

What  I  am,  and  hope  to  be. 

2  What  I  am,  as  one  redeemed, 
Saved  and  rescued  by  the  Lord  ; 

Hating  what  1  onco  esteemed, 
Loving  what  I  once  abhorred. 

3  What  I  hope  to  be  ere  long, 
When  I  take  my  place  above ; 

When  I  join  the  heavenly  throng  ; 
When  I  see  the  God  of  love. 


7s. 


LOVE   AND   COMMUNION    WITH    CHRIST. 


329 


4  Then  I  hope  Hke  him  to  be, 

Who  redeemed  his  saints  from  sin, 
Who;n  I  now  obscurely  see, 
Through  a  vail  that  stands  between. 

5  Blessed  fountain,  full  of  grace  ! 
Grace  for  sinners,  grace  for  me; 

To  this  source  alone  I  trace 
What  I  am,  and  hope  to  be. 

Taken  from  Rev.  Thomas  Kelly's  Hymns 
on  Various  Passages  of  Scripture,  Third 
Edition,  1809,  where  it  is  entitled  "  Fountain 
for  Sin,"  and  refers  to  Zechariah  13:1.  It  is 
recorded  of  Rev.  John  Newton  that  at  family 
prayers  he  used  to  follow  the  passage  of 
Scripture  with  some  brief  comment.  One 
morning  he  had  just  read  I.  Corinthians  15  : 
9-1 1.  Closing  the  Bible,  he  said,  as  if  talk- 
ing to  himself :  "  I  am  not  what  I  wish  to  be, 
I  am  not  what  I  ought  to  be,  I  am  not  what 
I  hope  to  be,  but  I  am  not  what  I  was,  and, 
by  the  grace  of  God, '  I  am  what  I  am ' ;  let 
us  pray." 

761  "The  Name  of  Jesus."  ys. 

Warrior  kings  their  titles  gain 
From  the  nations  they  enchain  ; 
Jesus,  thou  by  worthier  deed 
From  the  thousands  thou  hast  freed — 

2  Jesus — only  name  that 's  given 
Under  all  the  mighty  heaven, 
Which  can  dying  souls  restore. 
And  give  life  for  evermore. 

3  Let  not  sins  insane  and  base 
From  our  rebel  hearts  efface 
This  blest  name  with  blessings  fraught, 
By  thy  blood  so  dearly  bought. 

In  the  Parts  Breviary,  1736,  the  Latin 
original  of  this  hymn,  "  Victis  sibi  cogno- 
i/iitta,"  is  given  for  the  "  Feast  of  the  Cir- 
cumcision at  Second  Vespers."  Its  six  stan- 
zas are  also  to  be  found  in  Cardinal  New- 
man's Hymni  Ecclesice;  translated  into  Eng- 
lish, they  appear  in  Chandler's  Hymns  of 
the  Primitive  Church,  1837.  It  seems  likely 
that  the  work  of  rendering  into  English  was 
done  by  the  compilers  of  Hymns,  Ancient 
and  Modern,  with  perhaps  a  reference  to 
what  had  been  accomplished  by  others.  The 
value  of  the  little  cento  of  verses  here  lies  in 
its  disclosure  of  the  strange  reversal  of  con- 
ditions under  the  Gospel  plan  of  salvation. 
Warrior  kings  are  famous  for  conquering : 
Jesus  is  glorious  in  freeing.  Wonderful  con- 
flict is  that  of  a  sinner  for  his  redemption  ; 
he  stoops  that  he  may  rise  ;  the  soul  that 
surrenders  gains  the  victory,  and  he  who  is 
triumphed  over  wears  the  crown. 


2  Jesus !  name  decreed  of  old : 
To  the  maiden  mother  told. 
Kneeling  in  her  lowly  cell, 

By  the  angel  Gabriel. 

3  Jesus  I  name  of  priceless  worth 
To  the  fallen  sons  of  earth. 

For  the  promise  that  it  gave — 
"Jesus  shall  his  people  save." 

4  Jesus !  only  name  that 's  given 
Under  all  the  mighty  heaven. 
Whereby  man,  to  sin  enslaved, 
Bursts  his  fetters,  and  is  saved. 

5  Jesus  !  name  of  wondrous  love  I 
Human  name  of  God  above; 
Pleading  only  this  we  flee, 
Helpless,  O  our  God,  to  thee. 

Bishop  William  Walsham  How  has  in 
common  use  more  than  sixty  hymns,  of 
which  this  is  to  be  reckoned  as  among  the 
simplest  and  the  best.  It  was  included  in 
Psalms  and  Hymns,  compiled  by  himself  with 
Rev.  Thomas  Baker  Morrell,  1854.  The 
Scripture  reference  is  to  the  account  given  of 
the  annunciation  and  birth  of  the  Saviour  : 
Matthew  i  :  18-21.  Jesus  came  to  "save  his 
people  from  their  sins."  No  scheme  of  relig- 
ion can  be  of  any  avail  to  the  fallen  race  of 
men  that  does  not  make  provision  for  sin. 


762  The  name  "Jesus." 

Jesus!  name  of  wondrous  love! 
Name  all  other  names  above  ! 
Unto  which  must  every  knee 
Bow  in  deep  humility. 


763  "  Immanuel."  7s. 

Sweeter  sounds  than  music  knows 
Charm  me  in  Immanuel's  name; 

All  her  hopes  my  spirit  owes 
To  his  birth,  and  cross,  and  shame. 

2  When  he  came,  the  angels  sung, 
"  Glor>'  be  to  God  on  high  :" 

Lord,  unloose  my  stammering  tongue; 
Who  should  louder  sing  than  I  ? 

3  Did  the  Lord  a  man  become. 
That  he  might  the  law  fulfill; 

Bleed  and  suffer  in  my  room — 
And  canst  thou,  my  tongue,  be  still  ? 

4  No ;  I  must  my  praises  bring, 
Though  they  worthless  are,  and  weak  ; 

For  should  I  refuse  to  sing. 
Sure  the  very  stones  would  speak. 

5  O  my  Saviour!  Shield  and  Sun, 
Shepherd,  Brother,  Lord,  and  Friend — 

Every  precious  name  in  one ! 
I  will  love  thee  without  end. 

This  is  No.  37.  Book  II.,  of  the  Olney 
Hymns,  1779,  and  was  composed  by  Rev. 
John  Newton.  It  celebrates  the  incarnation 
of  "  Immanuel."  God  with  us,  "  Lord  and 
Friend."  This  poet,  having  such  a  vivid 
sense  of  what  he  owed  to  divine  grace,  was 
pressed  by  gratitude  unspeakable  to  sing  and 
pray  and  preach.  No  wonder  he  cries  out, 
"  Who  should  louder  sing  than  I .'"  He  felt 
that  if  he  should  be  silent  the  very  stones 
would  speak.  There  is  an  interesting  pas- 
7s-  sage  in  Dibdin's  Reminiscences  of  a  Literary 
Life,  worth  quoting  just  here.  He  says : 
"  I  remember,  when  a  lad  of  about  fifteen, 
being  taken  by  my  uncle  to  hear  the  well- 


33° 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


known  Mr.  Newton,  the  friend  of  Co\\T)er, 
the  poet,  preach  his  wife's  funeral  sermon  in 
the  church  of  St.  Mary  Woolnoth,  in  Lom- 
bard Street.  Newton  was  then  well-stricken 
in  years,  with  a  tremulous  voice,  and  in  the 
costume  of  the  full-bottomed  wig  of  the  day. 
He  had,  and  always  had,  the  entire  posses- 
sion of  the  ear  of  his  congregation.  He 
spoke  at  first  feebly  and  leisurely ;  but  as  he 
warmed,  his  ideas  and  his  periods  seemed 
mutually  to  enlarge  ;  the  tears  trickled  down 
his  cheeks,  and  his  action  and  expression 
were  at  times  quite  out  of  the  ordinary 
course  of  things.  He  always  preached 
extemporaneously.  It  was  as  the  '  mens 
agitans  molem  et  magno  se  cor  pore  miscens.' 
In  fact  the  preacher  was  one  with  his  dis- 
course. To  this  day  I  have  not  forgotten 
his  text;  it  was  in  Habakkuk  3:  17,  18. 
*  Although  the  fig  tree  shall  not  blossom, 
neither  shall  fruit  be  in  the  vines  ;  the  labor 
of  the  olive  shall  fail,  and  the  fields  shall 
yield  no  meat ;  the  flock  shall  be  cut  off  from 
the  fold,  and  there  shall  be  no  herd  in  the 
stalls ;  yet  I  will  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  I  will 
joy  in  the  God  of  my  salvation.'  " 

764  "  Altogether  lovely ^  7s. 

Earth  has  nothing  sweet  or  fair, 
Lovely  forms  or  beauties  rare. 
But  before  my  eyes  they  bring 
Christ,  of  beauty  Source  and  Spring. 

2  When  the  morning  paints  the  skies, 
When  the  golden  sunbeams  rise. 
Then  my  Saviour's  form  I  find 
Brightly  imaged  on  my  mind. 

3  When  the  star-beams  pierce  the  night, 
Oft  I  think  on  Jesus'  light ; 

Think  how  bright  that  light  will  be. 
Shining  through  eternity. 

4  Come,  Lord  Jesus!  and  dispel 
This  dark  cloud  in  which  I  dwell. 
And  to  me  the  power  impart 

To  behold  thee  as  thou  art. 

This  is  a  translation  by  Miss  Frances  Eliz- 
abeth Cox,  who  is  well  known  for  her  suc- 
cess in  that  department  of  literature.  In 
1 841  she  published  in  London  a  collection  of 
about  fifty  pieces,  entitled.  Sacred  Hymtts 
from  the  German,  among  which  this  ap- 
peared. The  author  of  the  original  poem 
was  Johann  Scheffier,  a  Silesian  born  at  Bres- 
lau.  His  father  was  a  member  of  the  Polish 
nobility  who  had  been  forced  to  leave  his  na- 
tive land  because  of  his  adherence  to  Lutheran- 
ism,  and  the  boy  was  educated  strictly  in  that 
communion.  He  studied  at  the  University  of 
Padua,  graduating  in  1648.  On  his  return  he 
was  appointed  private  physician  to  the  Duke 
of  Wiirttemberg-Oels,  but  he  had  already  be- 
gun to  waver  in  his  religious  ideas,  and  the 


severe  Lutheranism  of  the  court  did  not  suit 
him.  In  Holland  formerly  he  had  met  with 
the  writings  of  Jakob  Bohme,  and  he  was  so 
strongly  influenced  by  them  that  when  he 
wished  to  publish  a  volume  of  poems,  the 
permission  was  refused  by  the  court  authori- 
ties on  account  of  the  mystical  tendency 
shown  in  them.  Soon  after  he  resigned  his 
post  and  went  to  Breslau,  where  he  beciime 
acquainted  with  the  Jesuits,  who  introduced 
him  to  the  study  of  medieeval  mysticism  in 
the  Roman  Catholic  Church.  In  1653  he  was 
formally  received  into  that  communion,  and 
took  the  name  of  "  Angelus,"  probably  after 
a  Spanish  mystic  of  the  sixteenth  century. 
He  finally  decided  to  enter  the  priesthood, 
and  was  ordained  in  1661.  His  death  oc- 
curred at  a  monastery  in  Breslau,  July  9, 
1677.  Scheffler  was  a  voluminous  writer,  but 
deser\'es  a  lofty  place  in  German  hymnody. 
Many  of  his  works  were  long  supposed  to  be 
anonymous ;  the  "  A.,"  for  Johann  Angelus, 
being  often  interpreted  as  Incerti  Autoris. 
"  A  large  number  are  hymns  almost  perfect 
in  style  and  beauty  of  rhythm,  the  fruits  in- 
deed of  mysticism,  but  chastened  and  kept  in 
bounds  by  deep  reverence,  and  by  a  true  and 
fervent  love  to  the  Saviour." 

765  "  To  Iwe  IS  Chnst."  7S. 

Christ,  of  all  my  hopes  the  Ground, 

Christ,  the  Spring  of  all  my  joy. 
Still  in  thee  let  me  be  found, 

Still  for  thee  my  powers  employ. 

2  Fountain  of  o'erflowing  grace  ! 
Freely  from  thy  fullness  give ; 

Till  I  close  my  earthly  race, 
Be  it  "  Christ  for  me  to  live  !" 

3  Firmly  trusting  in  thy  blood. 
Nothing  shall  my  heart  confound  ; 

Safely  I  shall  pass  the  flood, 
Safely  reach  Immanuel's  ground. 

4  When  I  touch  the  blessed  shore, 
Back  the  closing  waves  shall  roll ! 

Death's  dark  stream  shall  nevermore 
Part  from  thee  my  ravished  soul. 

5  Thus — oh,  thus  an  entrance  give 
To  the  land  of  cloudless  sky  ; 

Having  known  it  "  Christ  to  live," 
Let  me  know  it  "gain  to  die." 

Rev.  Ralph  Wardlaw,  D.  D.,  in  1803,  pub- 
lished his  Selection  of  Hymns,  to  which,  in  its 
fifth  edition,  181 7,  he  appended  a  Supple- 
ment;  in  this  the  hymn  now  before  us  ap- 
peared as  No.  458.  It  was  in  two  parts, 
thirteen  stanzas  of  four  lines  in  all.  From 
these  the  verses  in  common  use  have  been 
chosen.  The  reference  is  to  Philippians  1:21: 
"  For  to  me  to  live  is  Christ,  and  to  die  is 
gain."  Little  attention  is  paid  nowadays  to 
this  old  announcement  of  the  apostle  Paul. 
A  man    who  should  soberly  assert  that  he 


LOVE   AND    COMMUNION    WITH    CHRIST. 


331 


was  going  to  construct  a  life  upon  such  a 
plain  declaration  would  be  voted  a  lunatic  by 
most  of  his  fellows.  Indeed,  real  religious 
self-denial  has  always  been  deemed  weakness. 
A  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago  people  in  Great 
Britain  who  spoke  the  colloquial  English 
language — so  the  pious  old  Gurnall  tells  us — 
signified  their  contemptuous  estimation  of 
exact  unworldliness  by  the  nickname  they 
gave.  They  said  of  a  silly  fool,  "  He  is  an 
Abraham."  And  those  of  us  who  were 
reared  in  New  England  will  not  need  to  be 
reminded  that  even  now  the  villagers  speak 
of  a  temperate  young  man,  weak  in  the  head, 
as  a  "Josey."  Abraham  left  a  good  place 
for  a  poorer  at  the  call  of  the  Lord.  And 
Joseph  refused  sin  when  it  came  to  him  with- 
out the  seeking.  The  world  will  never  count 
such  things  as  wise  policies.  Most  men  are 
commonplace  and  low  in  all  their  estimates 
of  daily  existence.  To  grow  rich  seems  to 
many  only  a  chance  to  grow  luxurious.  It  is 
said  that  John  Jacob  Astor  once  replied  to  an 
inquisitive  man,  who  asked  him  how  much 
money  he  had,  "Just  enough,  sir,  so  that  I 
can  eat  one  dinner  a  day !"  How  much 
wealth  would  a  man  need  to  enable  him  to 
eat  two  ?  And  does  a  man  want  to  wear  his 
overcoat  in  the  summer  months  for  fear  peo- 
ple will  think  he  cannot  afford  one  ? 

766  "  ^^  fi'''^^  loved  us."  7s. 

Saviour  !  teach  me,  day  by  day. 
Love's  sweet  lesson  to  obey  ; 
Sweeter  lesson  cannot  be, 
Loving  him  who  first  loved  me. 

2  With  a  child-like  heart  of  love, 
At  thy  bidding  may  I  move  ; 
Prompt  to  serve  and  follow  thee, 
Loving  him  who  first  loved  me. 

3  Teach  me  all  thy  steps  to  trace, 
Strong  to  follow  in  thy  grace ; 
Learning  how  to  love  from  thee, 
Loving  him  who  first  loved  me. 

4  Love  in  loving  finds  employ — 
In  obedience  all  her  joy ; 

Ever  new  that  joy  will  be, 
Loving  him  who  first  loved  me. 

5  Thus  may  I  rejoice  to  show 
That  I  feel  the  love  I  owe  ; 
Sitiging,  till  thy  face  I  see. 

Of  ills  love  who  first  loved  me. 

Many  volumes  of  poems  for  children  bear 
the  name  of  Miss  Jane  Elizabeth  Leeson, 
and  the  piece  we  quote  is  taken  from  her 
Hymns  and  Scenes  of  Childhood y  1 842  ;  but 
of  the  lady  herself  we  can  discover  no  par- 
ticulars whatever.  She  has  made  a  number 
of  meritorious  translations  from  the  German 
and  the  Latin,  and  some  of  her  lyrical  songs 
are  in  common  use,  both  in  Great  Britain 
and  in  America.     It   really  seems  as  if  we 


might  deplore  that  the  facts,  concerning  the 
life  of  one  whose  words  indicate  a  most  in- 
teresting character,  rich  in  spiritual  experi- 
ence, are  not  to  be  obtained.  This  hymn 
makes  a  refrain  out  of  a  text  of  Scripture. 
I.  John  4:  19.  We  love  Jesus  Christ  because 
he  first  loved  us ;  that  puts  the  new  principle 
of  love  into  our  souls ;  thenceforth  all  ex- 
istence is  welcome  and  bright,  happy  and 
holy ;  and  thus  a  genuine  Christian  becomes 
joyous  as  he  sings.  It  is  a  frightful  mistake 
to  suppose,  and  a  willful  perversion  to  assert, 
that  Christianity  as  a  scheme  of  faith  is  tame, 
insipid,  and  lifeless.  It  ought  not  to  be  con- 
sidered even  witty  to  quote  in  such  a  con- 
nection Job's  petulant  words  :  "  Is  there  any 
taste  in  the  white  of  an  &%%  ?  "  For  the  fact 
is,  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ  can  lift  the 
heart  and  satisfy  the  soul  better  than  any- 
thing else  that  is  known  to  fallen  and  sad- 
dened men.  The  gospel  restores  the  race 
and  purifies  the  world.  And  if  human  beings 
hold  their  peace,  "  the  stones  would  im- 
mediately cry  out "  with  some  glad  hosanna 
of  their  own. 

767  "Christ,  the  Crucified."  7s.  5I. 

Ask  ye  what  great  thing  I  know 
That  delights  and  stirs  me  so? 
What  the  high  reward  I  win  ? 
Whose  the  name  I  glory  in  ? 

Jesus  Christ,  the  Crucified. 

2  Who  is  life  in  life  to  me? 
Who  the  death  of  death  will  be? 
Who  will  place  me  on  his  right 
With  the  countless  hosts  of  light  ? 

Jesus  Christ,  the  Crucified. 

3  This  is  that  great  thing  I  know ; 
This  delights  and  stirs  me  so; 
Faith  in  him  who  died  to  save, 
Him  who  triumphed  o'er  the  grave, 

Jesus  Christ,  the  Crucified. 

Rev.  Dr.  Benjamin  Hall  Kennedy  trans- 
lated this  hymn  from  the  "  Wollt  ihr  wissen 
was  mem  Pret's?"  of  Rev  Johann  Christoph 
Schwedler.  This  good  man  was  born  at  Krobs- 
dorf,  December  21,  1672.  He  became  pastor 
at  Niederwiese,  in  Germany,  in  1701,  and  died 
there  suddenly,  January  12,  1730.  The  ver- 
sion into  English  is  found  in  Dr.  Kennedy's 
Hymno/o(^ia  Christiana,  1863.  The  theme 
of  the  song  is  that  Jesus  Christ  is  what 
"  stirs  "  the  Christian's  heart.  "  The  g^and 
natural  feature  of  our  northern  life,"  said 
Frederika  Bremer,  "  is  a  conquered  winter." 
There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  extreme 
temperature  of  those  almost  arctic  regions  of 
Sweden  needs  warm  hearts  and  inventive 
minds  to  render  them  endurable.  The  fierce 
blasts  chill  the  blood ;  vivacity  and  good  cheer 
must  be  had  in  order  to  make  its  currents 
flow  again.     And  so,  as  the  tourists  tell  us, 


332 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


you  will  find,  while  you  journey  through  Nor- 
way or  Sweden,  as  well  as  Northern  Den- 
mark, the  hospitable  lights  gleaming  in  low 
windows  with  a  new  friendliness  of  welcome, 
the  great  fires  roaring  in  the  capacious  chim- 
neys, and  simple-hearted  neighbors  coming 
every  evening  to  cluster  at  each  other's  board. 
There  are  innocent  entertainments  for  the 
elders,  intricate  puzzle-games  for  the  children, 
and  for  the  youths  and  maidens  (telling  the 
never-old  stor)-)  brave  legends  and  sweet 
songs.  Thus  the  iciness  of  those  Scandinavian 
climates  melts  in  the  glow  of  charity  and 
kindly  offices  of  considerate  regard.  The 
secret  of  the  genial  villagers'  success  lies  in 
the  fact  that  they  not  only  subdue  the  winter, 
but  also  ingeniously  reproduce  some  sort  of 
organization — like  summer — in  its  place. 

See  here  a  symbol  of  the  task  which  a  liv- 
ing Christianity  has  set  for  itself  to  accom- 
plish. It  is  no  more  nor  less  than  a  positive 
triumph  over  the  unregenerate  winter  in  the 
hearts  of  men  at  large.  The  gospel  proposes 
to  introduce  into  all  the  torpor  now  reigning 
in  sinful  humanity  a  vital  cheer  and  charm, 
which  shall  kindle  it  to  attractiveness,  and 
bring  back  to  it  a  semblance,  at  least,  of  the 
summer  day  of  its  purity  and  peace.  We  can- 
not banish  winter,  but  we  can  conquer  it. 

768  Loving  and  Beloved.  C.  M. 

Do  NOT  I  love  thee,  O  my  Lord  ? 

Behold  my  heart,  and  see; 
And  turn  the  dearest  idol  out 

That  dares  to  rival  thee. 

2  Is  not  thy  name  melodious  still 
To  mine  attentive  ear? 

Doth  not  each  pulse  with  pleasure  bound, 
My  Saviour's  voice  to  hear? 

3  Hast  thou  a  lamb  in  all  thy  flock 
I  would  disdain  to  feed  ? 

,  Hast  thou  a  foe  before  whose  face 

I  fear  thy  cause  to  plead  ? 

4  Would  not  my  heart  pour  forth  its  blood 
In  honor  of  thy  name? 

And  challenare  the  cold  hand  of  death 
To  damp  the  immortal  flame? 

5  Thou  knowest  that  I  love  thee.  Lord  ; 
But,  oh,  I  long  to  soar 

Far  from  the  sphere  of  mortal  joys, 
And  learn  to  love  thee  more. 

This  is  No.  246  in  Dr.  Philip  Doddridge's 
Hymns,  1755.  There  it  bears  the  title,  "  Ap- 
peal to  Christ  for  the  Sincerity  of  Love  to 
Him."  The  turn  of  admonition  is  reached 
in  the  third  stanza :  would  our  love  for  the 
Saviour  constrain  us  to  love  those  whom  he 
loves  ?  The  answer  is  easy  :  the  fact  is,  love 
is  of  itself  a  force.  Love  urges  to  activity. 
Love  wnns  to  love.  A  teacher  brought  one 
of  her  Bible-class  to  me  ;  she  tried  to  conceal 
her  anxiety  and  restrain  her  emotion.     But 


the  boy  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  real  tears 
which  she  could  not  keep  back  from  her  eyes ; 
and  then  he  listened.  Once  an  active  merchant 
told  me  a  lamentable  tale  of  his  bookkeeper ; 
he  desired  me  to  interpose  and  save  the  young 
man  from  ruin.  But  never  should  I  have 
reached  the  heart  of  the  clerk  if  I  had  not 
happened  to  say  his  employer's  voice  faltered 
when  he  spoke  of  him ;  for  so  he  knew  his 
master  cared  for  his  good.  Once  I  mentioned 
to  a  clergyman  that  perhaps  I  could  help  a 
disabled  shoemaker  with  some  little  work,  if 
he  would  come  and  see  me  soon.  And  next 
week  I  learned  that  this  faithful  friend,  a  city 
missionary,  walked  six  cold  miles  that  winter 
evening  to  tell  the  cobbler  his  good  news  be- 
fore the  midnight.  And  if  ever  I  straitened 
myself  to  get  a  place  for  a  man,  I  did  then  for 
him.  For  a  man  Icrocd  him,  and  then  so  did  I. 
Hence  the  whole  truth  is  in  the  statement : 
we  love  Christ  because  he  loved  us  first.  Then 
the  love  of  Christ  constrains  us  to  seek  others 
and  lead  them  to  love  him ;  and  we  teach 
them  to  love  a  Saviour  they  never  saw  by 
showing  them  how  much  we  love  him.  Tlius 
we  unconsciously  grow  Christ-like  ourselves, 
for  his  Spirit  dwells  within  us.  We  learn  to 
love  human  beings  because  Christ  loved  the 
lost  race  they  belong  to.  And  then  men,  see- 
ing we  love  them,  love  us  and  our  work.  And 
so  the  way  is  wide  open  to  win  them  to  God. 

769  ''He  is  precious."  CM. 

Blest  Jesus!  when  my  soaring  thoughts    ' 

O'er  all  thy  graces  rove, 
How  is  mv  soul  in  transport  lost, 

In  wonder,  joy,  and  love! 

2  Not  softest  strains  can  charm  my  ears 
Like  thy  beloved  name; 

Nor  aught  beneath  the  skies  inspire 
My  heart  with  equal  flame. 

3  Where'er  I  look,  my  wondering  eyes 
Unnumbered  blessings  see; 

But  what  is  life,  with  all  its  bliss, 
If  once  compared  with  thee? 

4  Hast  thou  a  rival  in  my  breast? 
Search,  Lord,  for  thou  canst  tell 

If  aught  can  raise  my  passions  thus, 
Or  please  my  soul  so  well. 

5  No  ;  thou  art  precious  to  my  heart, 
My  portion  and  my  joy  : 

For  ever  let  thy  boundless  grace 
My  sweetest  thoughts  employ. 

Another  hymn  by  the  old  Nonconformist 
preacher  of  Sudbur\\  England,  Rev.  Ottiwell 
Heginbothom,  published  in  Collyer's  Collec- 
tion, 181 2.  Some  critics  there  are  who  dis- 
like such  strains  of  sentiment  as  these ;  they 
are  wont  to  speak  disparagingly  of  the  writer. 
No  man's  personal  piety  can  be  registered 
according  to  the  estimate  which  even  his 
best  friends  or  worst  enemies  have  of  it.    Yet 


LOVE  AND   COMMUNION   WITH   CHRIST. 


333 


we  must  reach  some  sort  of  adjustment  in 
our  association  with  each  other ;  that  is  true. 
It  is  reported  of  Chalmers,  that  while  listen- 
ing to  the  converse  of  McCheyne  and  Burns 
and  the  Bonars,  and  hearing  them  say  "  Pre- 
cious Jesus  "  so  much,  he  exclaimed,  "A  most 
excellent  brotherhood  of  men,  if  only  they 
might  have  done  with  their  nursery  endear- 
ments!"  We  call  all  of  them — Chalmers 
and  the  rest — the  saintliest  of  God's  people  ; 
but  to  them  he  appeared  hard,  and  to  him 
they  appeared  soft,  yet  they  bore  with  each 
other.  The  thing  seems  almost  inconceiv- 
able, that  there  should  anybody  try  to  cherish 
a  faith  which  is  all  intellectuality,  or  an  ac- 
tivity which  is  all  bustle,  or  a  love  which  is 
all  gushing.  For  the  symmetry  of  real  reli- 
gion is  its  most  noble  characteristic.  Such  a 
man  as  it  necessitates  will  be  all  the  more  a 
man  because  of  its  possession.  There  will 
be  in  him  no  mere  cold,  crisp  orthodoxy ; 
though  he  certainly  will  have  a  faith.  There 
will  be  in  him  no  stiffness  of  routine  or  ritual 
drill ;  though  he  certainly  will  be  found  work- 
ing in  worship.  There  will  be  in  him  no  soft 
sentimentalism  that  exhausts  itself  in  singing ; 
though  he  will  joy  quietly  in  the  Lord  when 
the  day's  labor  is  over.  But  there  will  be  in 
him  a  living  personality  of  the  indwelling 
Christ. 

770  Psalm -^i.  CM. 

My  Saviour!  my  almighty  Friend, 

When  I  begin  thy  praise, 
Where  will  the  growing  numbers  end — 

The  numbers  of  thy  grace? 

2  Thou  art  my  everlasting  trust : 
Thy  goodness  I  adore ; 

And,  since  I  knew  thy  graces  first, 
I  speak  thy  glories  more. 

3  My  feet  shall  travel  all  the  length 
Of  the  celestial  road  ; 

And  march,  with  courage  in  thy  strength, 
To  see  my  Father  God. 

4  How  will  my  lips  rejoice  to  tell 
The  victories  of  my  King ! 

My  soul,  redeemed  from  sin  and  hell, 
Shall  thy  salvation  sing. 

This  is  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  version  of  Psalm 
71,  Second  Part,  C.  M.  It  has  for  its  title,  to 
show  its  evangelical  character,  "  Christ  our 
Strength  and  Righteousness." 

77  I  His  name  Jesus. 

Jesus  !  I  love  thy  charming  name, 

'T  is  music  to  mine  ear  ; 
Fain  would  I  sound  it  out  so  loud 

That  earth  and  heaven  should  hear. 

2  Yes  !  thou  art  precious  to  my  soul. 

My  transport  and  my  trust; 
Jewels,  to  thee,  are  gaudy  toys, 

And  gold  is  sordid  dust. 


C.  M. 


3  All  my  capacious  powers  can  wish. 
In  thee  doth  richly  meet ; 

Not  to  mine  eyes  is  light  so  dear. 
Nor  friendship  half  so  sweet. 

4  Thy  grace  still  dwells  upon  my  heart, 
Ani  sheds  its  fragrance  there ; 

The  noblest  balm  of  all  its  wounds. 
The  cordial  of  its  care. 

This  is  to  be  found  in  Dr.  Philip  Doddridge's 
Hymns,  1755.  It  is  entitled,"  Christ  precious 
to  the  Believer,"  and  is  dated,  "  October  23, 
1 7 17."  The  Greeks  at  the  feast  said,  "  We 
would  see  Jesus."  Absalom,  restored  from 
banishment,  was  right  when  he  exclaimed, 
"  It  is  to  little  purpose  I  am  come  to  Jerusa- 
lem, if  I  may  not  see  the  king's  face."  Alas, 
it  would  be  of  no  avail  for  one  of  us  to  enter 
heaven,  if  we  might  not  see  God  !  But  purity 
is  the  condition  of  such  a  prospect.  "  Blessed 
are  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall  see  God." 
Growth  in  grace  is  part  of  Christian  duty.  We 
shall  be  exactly  like  Christ,  when  we  shall  see 
him  as  he  is.  We  should  begin  to  resemble 
him  now.  "  I  do  not  want  to  be  like  Paul,  or 
Apollos,  or  any  mere  man,"  wrote  the  inde- 
fatigable Judson  ;  "  I  want  to  be  like  Christ. 
We  have  only  one  perfect  example — perfectly 
safe — only  one,  who,  tempted  like  as  we  are 
in  every  point,  is  yet  without  sin.  I  want  to 
follow  him  only :  copy  his  teachings,  drink  in 
his  spirit,  place  my  feet  in  his  footprints,  and 
measure  their  shortcomings  by  these  and  these 
alone.    Oh,  to  be  more  like  Christ  day  by  day !" 

772  "  He  is  precious."  C.  M. 

How  sweet  the  name  of  Jesus  sounds 
•  In  a  believer's  ear  ! 

It  soothes  his  sorrows,  heals  his  wounds, 
And  drives  away  his  fear. 

2  It  makes  the  wounded  spirit  whole, 
And  calms  the  troubled  breast ; 

'T  is  manna  to  the  hungry  soul. 
And  to  the  weary,  rest. 

3  Jesus !  my  Shepherd,  Guardian,  Friend, 
My  Prophet,  Priest,  and  Kingj 

My  Lord,  my  Life,  my  Way,  my  End, 
Accept  the  praise  I  bring. 

4  Weak  is  the  effort  of  my  heart. 
And  cold  my  warmest  thought ; 

But  when  I  see  thee  as  thou  art, 
I  '11  praise  thee  as  I  ought. 

5  Till  then  I  would  thy  love  proclaim 
With  every  fleeting  breath  ; 

And  may  the  music  of  thy  name 
Refresh  my  soul  in  death. 

Rev.  John  Newton  loved  much  because  he 
had  been  forgiven  much.  He  put  this  song  of 
a  grateful  heart  into  Olney  Hymns,  \  779,  for 
the  use  of  those  who  would  be  willing  to  ac- 
cept it.  It  is  the  exuberant  outflow  of  his 
whole  soul  into  enthusiasm  of  loyalty  and 
longing  for  his  Saviour.  To  some  it  would 
seem  extravagant.  That  depends  upon  the 
temperament  of  the  singer.     To  many  people 


334 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE, 


it  is  easy  to  be  calm  and  self-possessed  in 
their  piety.  To  others  it  is  actually  a  conflict 
to  avoid  being^  boisterous  and  to  keep  them- 
selves vi'ithin  bounds.  Lavater,  the  physiog- 
nomist, used  to  say :  "  The  qualities  of  a 
man's  friends  will  generally  be  those  of  his 
enemies ;  cold  friends,  cold  enemies ;  half 
friends,  half  enemies ;  fervid  enemies,  warm 
friends." 

It  is  not  necessary  in  this  imperfect  and 
confused  world  that  one  should  absolutely 
force  his  piety  to  become  either  very  efficient 
or  very  offensive.  Mere  decorousness  to  a 
creditable  line  of  observances  and  require- 
ments, external  and  conspicuous,  is  about  all 
he  can  be  compelled  to  sustain.  It  is  even 
possible  for  a  Christian  to  quiet  the  monitions 
of  conscience,  and  keep  down  worldly  opposi- 
tion, so  as  to  move  along  with  his  general  re- 
ligiousness quite  unquestioned.  Albeit  in  this 
case  his  personal  zeal  for  Christ  will  have  to 
be  assumed  as  being  of  a  somewhat  undis- 
turbing  or  mild  type.  If  it  chances  at  any 
time  to  become  emotional,  or  to  attempt  any 
vigor  of  exercise,  it  will  probably  provoke  vio- 
lence, and  perhaps  invite  peril.  It  is  easy  al- 
ways for  a  person,  with  sufficiently  resolute 
will,  to  keep  this  amount  of  religious  life  quite 
in  hand,  and  avoid  unnecessary  exposure.  It 
is  not  likely  of  itself  to  put  on  any  extrav- 
agance, and  ultimately  the  peaceful  soul  may 
get  into  heaven,  through  some  awful  grace  of 
convulsing  experience  at  the  last,  as  Lot  was 
wrenched  out  of  Sodom  under  a  hail-storm  of 
merciful  fire. 

773  "Jesus  only."  C.  M. 

Jesus,  the  very  thought  of  thee 

With  sweetness  fills  my  breast ; 
But  sweeter  far  thy  face  to  see 
And  in  thy  presence  rest. 

2  Nor  voice  can  sing,  nor  heart  can  frame, 
Nor  can  the  memory  find 

A  sweeter  sound  than  thy  blest  name, 
O  Saviour  of  mankind  ! 

3  O  Hope  of  every  contrite  heart ! 
O  Joy  of  all  the  meek  ! 

To  those  who  fall,  how  kind  thou  art ! 
How  good  to  those  who  seek  ! 

4  But  what  to  those  who  find  ?   Ah  !  this, 
Nor  tongue  nor  pen  can  show  ; 

The  love  of  Jesus,  what  it  is, 
None  but  his  loved  ones  know 

5  Jesus,  our  only  joy  be  thou, 
As  thou  our  prize  wilt  be; 

Jesus,  be  thou  our  glory  now. 
And  through  eternity. 

The  original  Latin,  "/esu,  dulcis  me- 
morza,"  of  St.  Bernard  of  Clairvaux,  has 
never  found  a  better  translation  into  English 
than  Rev.  Edward  Caswall  has  given  to  it 
here.  Of  course  only  a  small  portion  of 
either  is  ever  used  in  modern  worship.     The 


EDWARD   CASWALL. 

translation  consists  of  fifty  stanzas,  from 
which  our  present  hymn  is  compiled.  It 
first  appeared  in  Lyra  Catholica,  1849.  One 
might  call  this  poem  the  finest  in  the  world, 
and  be  within  the  limits  of  all  extravagance. 
It  was  written  about  the  time  of  the  Second 
Crusade,  as  near  11 50  as  one  would  venture 
to  guess.  The  knights  and  soldiers  used  to 
sing  it  as  they  kept  their  guard  around  the 
Holy  Sepulcher  in  Jerusalem. 

774  "Master  Mine.'^  S.  M. 

Dear  Lord  and  Master  mine  ! 

Thy  happy  servant  see  : 
My  Conqueror  !  with  what  joy  divine 

Thy  captive  clings  to  thee  ! 

2  I  would  not  walk  alone. 
But  still  with  thee,  my  God, 

At  every  step  my  blindness  own, 
And  ask  of  thee  the  road. 

3  The  weakness  I  enjoy 
That  casts  me  on  thy  breast  ; 

The  conflicts  that  thy  strength  employ 
Make  me  divinely  blest. 

4  Dear  Lord  and  Master  mine  I 
Still  keep  thy  servant  true ; 

My  Guardian  and  my  Guide  divine! 
Bring,  bring  thy  pilgrim  through. 

5  My  Conqueror  and  my  King ! 
Still  keep  me  in  thy  train  ; 

And  with  thee  thy  glad  captive  bring 
When  thou  return'st  to  reign. 

Another  of  Thomas  Homblower  Gill's  un- 
usual hymns,  quaint,  simple,  original,  charac- 
teristic. This  was  published  in  his  Golden 
Chain  of  Praise,  1869,  written  the  year  be- 
fore. He  reiterates  the  old  wish  to  be  a 
"  servant "  in  this  fresh  name  for  Jesus,  "  Dear 


LOVE    AND    COMMUNION    WITH    CHRIST. 


335 


Lord  and  Master  mine ! "  He  entitled  the 
piece  "  Resignation,"  for  he  was  probably 
weak  and  in  trouble  as  he  sang  it ;  but  he 
continues  to  be  active,  doing  his  work,  a 
*'  servant  true  "  to  the  end.  The  Church  is 
sadly  in  want  of  such  patient  people ;  we 
need  men — need  them  now  supremely — 
ready  for  great,  plain,  unromantic  duties  ! 
We  are  in  deplorable  lack  of  men  and 
women  who  love  God  with  all  their  hearts, 
and  who  love  their  fellow-men  as  they  do 
themselves.  We  need  men  and  women  whose 
souls  grow  fresher  and  younger  each  time 
they  come  to  the  Lord's  table.  This  age  of 
ours,  cold  and  uncompromising,  thoroughly 
disrespectful  and  suspicious  of  all  shams,  de- 
mands a  new  piety :  a  piety  frank  in  rebuking 
sin  and  firm  in  resisting  it,  but  tender  and 
merciful  when  it  seeks  to  lift  the  man  who  is 
defiled  by  it.  It  clamors  now  for  no  singular 
or  dramatic  experiences  of  conversion,  least 
of  all  a  something  called  a  second  conversion. 
He  who  is  the  meetest  of  saints  for  the  king- 
dom of  heaven,  he  who  is  the  surest  to  enter 
heaven,  may  not  at  all  be  the  one  who  has 
the  most  graphic  story  to  tell  of  conviction 
and  wrestle,  succeeded  by  some  disclousre 
of  sunshiny  and  bird-singing  peace  afterward  ; 
nor  he  who  has  the  longest  and  most  voluble 
formulas  of  prayer  to  rehearse  on  sudden 
public  call.  It  is  possible  that  it  may  be  even 
that  unsuspected  believer  who  trusts  Christ 
in  the  humblest  way,  dependent  on  him  for 
pardon,  and  he  whose  whole  life  is  milder 
and  mellower  as  he  moves  patiently  on  to- 
ward its  end  and  crown. 

775  None  but  Jesus.  S.  M. 

My  God,  my  Life,  my  Love, 
To  thee,  to  thee  I  call: 

1  cannot  live,  if  thou  remove, 
For  thou  art  all  in  all. 

2  To  thee,  and  thee  alone, 
The  angels  owe  their  bliss  ; 

They  sit  around  thy  gracious  throne, 
And  dwell  where  Jesus  is. 

3  Not  all  the  harps  above 
Can  make  a  heaveiily  place, 

If  God  his  residence  remove, 
Or  but  conceal  his  face. 

4  Nor  earth,  nor  all  the  sky. 
Can  one  delight  afford — 

No,  not  a  drop  of  real  joy 
Without  thy  presence,  Lord. 

5  Thou  art  the  sea  of  love, 
Where  all  my  pleasures  roll ; 

The  circle  where  my  passions  move. 
And  center  of  my  soul. 

This  is  No.  93  in  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  Hymns, 
Book  II.  It  has  eight  stanzas,  and  bears  the 
title,  "  God  all,  and  in  all,  Psalm  73 :  25." 
"  Whom  have   I    in  heaven  but  thee .''  and 


there  is  none  upon  earth  that  I  desire  beside 
thee." 

776  "Jesus  is  my  friend."  CM. 

Since  Jesus  is  my  friend. 

And  I  to  him  belong. 
It  matters  not  what  foes  intend, 

However  fierce  and  strong. 

2  He  whispers  in  my  breast 
Sweet  words  of  holy  cheer, 

How  they  who  seek  in  God  their  rest 
Shall  ever  find  him  near  ; 

3  How  God  hath  built  above 
A  city  fair  and  new. 

Where  eye  and  heart  shall  see  and  prove 
What  faith  has  counted  true. 

4  My  heart  for  gladness  springs  ; 
It  cannot  more  be  sad  ; 

For  very  joy  it  smiles  and  sings — 
Sees  naught  but  sunshine  glad. 

5  The  sun  that  lights  mine  eyes 
Is  Christ,  the  Lord  I  love; 

1  sing  for  joy  of  that  which  lies 
Stored  up  for  me  above. 

Miss  Catharine  Winkworth  is  the  transla- 
tor of  this  beautiful  poem,  but  it  is  the  proper 
composition  of  Rev.  Paul  Gerhardt,  of  Sax- 
ony. The  whole  piece  may  be  found  in  Lyra 
Germanzca,  first  series,  in  twelve  double 
stanzas,  from  which  several  hymns,  as  now 
used,  have  been  compiled  for  various  hym- 
nals. It  commences  in  the  German :  "/f/ 
Goil  fur  mich,  so  trete."  Those  who  have 
traced  it  back  say  it  was  written  about  the 
year  1656,  and  is  based  upon  Romans  8:31- 
39.  The  vicissitudes  of  this  wonderful  man's 
life  wrought  their  way  into  the  triumphs  of 
his  songs.  He  was  at  times  weak  and  sick ; 
he  was  bereaved ;  he  was  to  a  certain  extent 
persecuted,  so  that  he  used  to  speak  of  some 
serious  troubles  he  had  as  his  "  small  Berlin 
sort  of  martyrdom ;"  but  faith  never  wa- 
vered nor  grew  cold  in  his  heart.  He  often 
smiled  and  sang  "  for  very  joy,"  as  if  indeed 
he  saw  "  naught  but  sunshine  glad  "  on  his 
way  to  God. 

777  Unseen,  we  love.  S.  M. 

Not  with  our  mortal  eyes 

Have  we  beheld  the  Lord  ; 
Vet  we  rejoice  to  hear  his  name, 

And  love  him  in  his  word. 

2  On  earth  we  want  the  sight 
Of  our  Redeemer's  face  ; 

Vet,  Lord,  our  inmost  thoughts  delight 
To  dwell  upon  thy  grace. 

3  And  when  we  taste  thy  love. 
Our  joys  divinely  grow 

Unspeakable,  like  those  above. 
And  heaven  begins  below. 

This  familiar  little  hymn  with  its  three 
stanzas  unchanged  appears  as  No.  108  in  Dr. 
Isaac  Watts'  Hymns,  Book  I.  It  is  entitled, 
"  Christ  unseen  and  beloved,"  and  refers  to 


336 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENXE. 


I.  Peter  i  :  8.  True  affection  always  has  in 
it  an  element  of  idealism.  It  seems  to  see 
the  one  beloved  when  he  is  not  visible.  The 
boy  at  college  thinks  of  the  home  faces.  The 
widow  watches  her  young  children  as  if  she 
felt  that  the  eyes  of  her  husband  were  gently 
and  unwaveringly  watching  her  through  the 
long  years  while  she  is  trying  to  remember 
his  wishes  in  bringing  them  up.  Two  friends, 
very  intimate,  worried  once  over  '  a  locket 
which  one  wore  but  seemed  shy  about  open- 
ing. One  wished  to  learn  the  secret ;  the 
other  was  reluctant,  always  unwilling  to 
Joosen  the  clasp.  At  last  she  consented,  and 
her  friend  found  only  the  words :  "  Whom 
having  not  seen,  ye  love ;  in  whom,  though 
now  ye  see  him  not,  yet  believing,  ye  rejoice 
with  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glor\%  re- 
ceiving the  end  of  your  faith,  even  the  salva- 
tion of  your  souls." 

778  Psalm  23.  S.  M. 

The  Lord  my  Shepherd  is, 

I  shall  be  well  supplied  ; 
Since  he  is  mine,  and  I  am  his, 

What  can  I  want  beside  ? 

2  He  leads  me  to  the  place 
Where  heavenly  pasture  grows, 

Where  living  waters  gently  pass, 
And  full  salvation  flows. 

3  If  e'er  I  go  astray. 

He  doth  my  soul  reclaim  ; 
And  guide  me  in  his  own  right  way. 
For  his  most  holy  name. 

4  While  he  affords  his  aid, 
I  cannot  yield  to  fear ; 

Tho'  I  should  walk  thro'  death's  dark  shade. 
My  Shepherd  's  with  me  there. 

5  In  spite  of  all  my  foes, 
Thou  dost  my  table  spread  ; 

My  cup  with  blessings  overflows. 
And  joy  exalts  my  head. 

6  The  bounties  of  thy  love 
Shall  crown  my  future  days ; 

Nor  from  thy  house  will  I  reniove. 
Nor  cease  to  speak  thy  praise. 

No  hand  has  ever  ventured  to  touch  these 
six  beautiful  verses  since  the  day  they  were 
earliest  printed  in  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  versions 
of  the  Psalms.  They  stand  as  a  memorial  of 
what  the  "  father  of  hymnology  "  could  do  at 
his  best.  Other  men  have  used  the  same 
first  line  for  compositions  of  their  own ;  but 
even  their  work  has  not  displaced  the  old 
song  for  the  children  which  the  childless 
poet  gave  to  the  ages. 


779  "  To  live  is  Christ." 

Jesus,  who  on  his  glorious  throne 
Rules  heaven,  and  earth,  and  sea. 

Is  pleased  to  claim  me  for  his  own, 
And  give  himself  to  me. 


CM. 


2  His  person  fixes  all  my  love, 
H  is  blood  removes  my  fear ; 

And  while  he  pleads  for  me  above, 
His  arm  preser\-es  me  here. 

3  His  word  of  promise  is  my  food. 
His  Spirit  is  my  guide; 

Thus  daily  is  my  strength  renewed. 
And  all  my  wants  supplied. 

4  For  him  I  count  as  gain  each  loss, 
Disgrace  for  him  renown  ; 

Well  may  I  glory-  in  my  cross. 
While  he  prepares  my  crcwn. 

Among  Rev.  John  Newton's  contributions 
to  the  Olney  Hytmts,  i  jjg,  is  to  be  found  one 
commencing,  "  From  pole  to  pole  let  others 
roam."  It  has  six  stanzas  from  which  by 
some  unknown  hand  long  ago  these  now  be- 
fore us  were  selected  for  comm.on  use  in 
American  collections.  The  original  title  was, 
"  The  Lord  is  my  portion."  We  might 
always  take  it  for  granted  that  there  is  some- 
thing in  plain,  corhmonplace  heroism  that  is 
calculated  to  move  men.  The  ancients  used 
to  say,  "  A  good  man  struggling  with  adver- 
sity is  a  sight  for  the  gods  to  look  at !" 
Human  sympathy  is  one  of  the  motives 
within  us  easiest  to  arouse  and  most  effect- 
ive to  energize  into  ser\ice.  Personal  pain 
has  in  it  an  element  of  personal  power. 
Mortified  pride  ;  poverty  of  spirit ;  physical 
discomfort ;  bereavement  of  friends  ;  thwart- 
ing of  hopes  ;  encroachment  of  disease  ;  the 
prospect  of  death ;  misapprehension,  misjudg- 
ment  and  injustice ;  indeed,  anything  or 
everything  which  wounds  or  worries  the 
human  heart,  has  in  it  a  resident  and  unmis- 
takable force.  The  Jews  missed  their  aim 
when  they  made  Paul  a  martyr.  He  that 
bears  nobly  and  never  breaks  ;  he  that  en- 
dures to  the  end,  and  still  holds  on — he  that 
learns  to  suffer  silently,  and  continue  true ; 
he  it  is  who  will  quietly  draw  the  world  after 
him ;  the  things  which  happen  to  him  will 
certainly  fall  out  to  the  furtherance  of  the 
cause  he  loves.    • 

780  Psalm  23.  C.  M. 

The  Lord  's  my  Shepherd,  I  '11  not  want ; 

He  makes  me  down  to  lie 
In  pastures  green  ;  he  leadeth  me 

The  quiet  waters  by. 

2  My  soul  he  doth  restore  again  ; 
And  me  to  walk  doth  make 

Within  the  paths  of  righteousness, 
Ev'n  for  his  own  name's  sake. 

3  Yea,  though  I  walk  in  death's  dark  vale, 
Yet  will  I  fear  no  ill ; 

For  thou  art  with  me,  and  thy  rod 
And  staff  me  comfort  still. 

4  My  table  thou  hast  furnished 
In  presence  of  my  foes ; 

My  head  thou  dost  with  oil  anoint, 
And  my  cup  overflows. 


LOVE  AND  COMMUNION   WITH   CHRIST 


337 


5  Goodness  and  mercy,  all  my  life, 

Shall  surely  follow  me ; 
And  in  God's  house  for  evermore 

My  dwelling-place  shall  be. 

Francis  Rous  probably  took  the  text  of  this 
paraphrase  of  Psalm  23  from  Whittingham's 
One  a7id  fiftie  Psahnes  of  Dauid,  published 
in  Geneva  in  1556.  It  appeared  in  his  ver- 
sion of  the  Psalms  in  1641,  and  in  the 
Scottish  Psalter  in  1650.  It  is  still  in  use  in 
Scotland,  and  is  to  be  found  in  nearly  all 
English  and  American  hymnals.  \ev^  likely 
it  would  be  considered  as  the  best  piece  of 
work  in  the  poetry  of  the  Scottish  Church. 
Its  author  was  an  English  lawyer,  born  at 
Halton,  Cornwall,  in  1579,  who  studied  at 
Broadgate  Hall,  Oxford.  After  his  admis- 
sion to  the  Bar  he  became  Member  of  Par- 
liament for  Truro,  during  the  reigns  of  James 
and  of  Charles  I.;  and  later  sat  for  Devon- 
shire and  for  Cornwall.  Cromwell  placed 
him  in  several  positions  of  honor ;  he  was 
Provost  at  Eton,  and  a  member  of  the  famous 
Westminster  Assembly  of  Divines  and  of  the 
Privy  Council.  He  died  at  Acton,  January  7, 
1659,  and  was  buried  in  the  chapel  of  Eton 
College. 

78  I  Christ,  our  Model.  C.  M. 

O  Jesus!  King  most  wonderful, 

Thou  Conqueror  renowned, 
Thou  sweetness  most  ineffable, 

In  whom  all  joys  are  found ! 

2  When  once  thou  visitest  the  heart, 
Then  truth  begins  to  shine. 

Then  earthlv  vanities  depart. 
Then  kindles  love  divine. 

3  O  Jesus,  Light  of  all  below ! 
Thou  P'ount  of  life  and  fire  ! 

Surpassing  all  the  joys  we  know, 
All  that  we  can  desire — 

4  May  every  heart  confess  thy  name. 
And  ever  thee  adore ; 

And,  seeking  thee,  itself  inflame 
To  seek  thee  more  and  more. 

5  Thee  may  our  tongues  for  ever  bless. 
Thee  may  we  love  alone ; 

And  ever  in  our  life  express 
The  image  of  thine  own. 

This  is  a  translation  of  another  part  of  St. 
Bernard's  hymn,  " Jesu,  dulczs  memoria"  by 
Rev.  Edward  Caswall,  who  gave  us  the  fine 
version  commencing,  "Jesus,  the  very  thought 
of  thee,"  which  we  had  before.  It  is  to  be 
found  in  Lyra  Catholica,  1849.  This  portion 
begins,  "Jesu,  Rex  admirabilis." 


7S2 


"  He  first  loved  us." 


C.  M. 


O  BLESSED  Saviour,  is  thy  love 

So  great,  so  full,  so  free? 
Behold,  we  give  our  thoughts,  our  hearts. 

Our  lives,  our  all  to  thee. 


2  We  love  thee  for  the  glorious  worth 
Which  in  thvself  we  see  : 

We  love  thee  for  that  cross  of  shame 
Endured  so  patiently. 

3  No  man  of  greater  love  can  boast 
Than  for  his  friend  to  die , 

Thou  for  thine  enemies  wast  slain  : 
What  love  with  thine  can  vie? 

4  Make  us  like  thee  in  meekness,  love. 
And  every  beauteous  grace ; 

From  glory  unto  glory  cnanged. 
Till  we  behold  thy  face. 

The  original  poem  by  Rev.  Joseph  Stennett, 
published  in  his  Hymns  on  the  Lord's  Supper, 
1697,  began  with  the  line,  "  My  blessed 
Saviour"  is  thy  love."  These  four  stanzas 
are  in  common  use  now,  but  many  alterations 
seem  to  be  freely  made.  The  sentiment  is 
what  gives  the  song  its  welcome  in  the 
churches.  Christ  loves  us  ;  he  loves  us  when 
we  are  not  lovely.  All  our  love  simply  grows 
out  of  his :  "  We  love  him  because  he  first 
loved  us."  But  why  did  he  first  love  us? 
There  was  nothing  in  fallen  man  to  attract 
admiration.  We  love  what  is  lovely  ;  we  be- 
lieve God  does  the  same.  But  we  are  all  in 
ruins.  Jonathan  loved  David  because  he  was 
so  brave  and  noble  as  he  told  about  Goliath. 
Nor  was  this  love  of  God  drawn  out  toward 
men  by  any  reason  of  promise  for  the  future. 
Pharoah's  daughter  heard  the  cry  of  a  babe 
in  the  bulrushes  ;  she  whispered  contemptu- 
ously of  it,  "  It  is  only  one  of  the  Hebrews' 
children ! "  But  when  the  attendant  stooped 
down  to  pick  it  up,  she  saw  it  was  a  "  goodly 
child,"  and  something  might  be  made  of  it  if 
only  she  would  give  it  a  little  fairer  chance. 
But  we  never  had  any  hope  of  betterment  by 
ourselves.  Nor  even  was  this  divine  love 
drawn  out  toward  us  by  any  affection  that  we 
still  retained  for  him.  He  knows  how  we 
naturally  feel  toward  him.  "  The  carnal  mind 
is  enmity  against  God."  The  love  we  live 
upon  is  the  sovereign,  unconstrained  gift  of 
our  God.  "  For  when  we  were  yet  without 
strength,  in  due  time  Christ  died  for  the  un- 
godly. For  scarcely  for  a  righteous  man  will 
one  die ;  yet  peradventure  for  a  good  man 
some  would  even  dare  to  die.  But  God  com- 
mendeth  his  love  towards  us,  in  that,  while 
we  were  yet  sinners,  Christ  died  for  us." 

783  "  Humble  Thoughts."  C.  M. 

Our  Father,  hear  our  longing  prayer. 

And  help  this  prayer  to  now. 
That  humble  thoughts,  which  are  thy  care. 

May  live  in  us  and  grow. 

2  For  lowly  hearts  shall  understand 
The  peace,  the  calm  delight 

Of  dwelling  in  thy  heavenly  land, 
A  pleasure  in  thy  sight. 

3  Give  us  humility,  that  so 
Thy  reign  may  come  within, 

And  when  thy  children  homeward  go, 
We  too  may  enter  in. 

22 


338 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


4  Hear  us,  our  Saviour !  ours  thou  art, 
Though  we  are  not  like  thee ; 

Give  us  thy  Spirit  in  our  heart. 
Large,  lowly,  trusting,  free. 


GEORGE  MACDONALD. 

In  pursuing  our  purposes  of  annotation  we 
meet  among  the  rest  of  our  lyric  poets  the 
famous  British  author,  George  MacDonald. 
He  is  a  clergyman,  and  yet  he  declines  the 
title ;  he  is  one  who  has  received  the  literary 
degree  of  LL.  D.,  and  still  no  one  would  know 
him  as  Dr.  MacDonald.  A  poet  who  has 
published  several  volumes  of  exquisite  verse, 
he  has  very  rarely  been  found  among  the  au- 
thors in  the  hymn-books.  Indeed,  we  do  not 
happen  ever  to  have  discovered  more  than 
just  one  hymn  in  the  church  collections  for 
worship — the  one  now  before  us.  No  one 
knows  when  or  why  this  singularly  beautiful 
piece  was  composed.  It  came  quietly  within 
our  range  of  observation  while  we  were 
studying  an  English  hymnal  which  has  hardly 
forced  its  way  at  all  on  this  side  of  the  sea. 

George  MacDonald  was  born  in  Huntly,  in 
Aberdeenshire,  Scotland,  December  lo,  1824. 
His  father  was  a  descendant  of  the  Mac- 
Donalds  of  Glencoe,  and  this  son  graduated 
at  the  University  of  Aberdeen,  studied  the- 
ology in  Owen's  College,  Manchester,  and  for 
several  years  was  a  preacher  in  the  Inde- 
pendent or  Congregational  Church  in  Surrey 
and  Sussex,  in  England.  He  finally  left  the 
pulpit,  with  the  view  of  devoting  himself 
more  directly  to  literature,  as  his  books  were 
multiplying  upon  his  hands  and  his  fame  was 
extending  over  the  world.  It  has  been  an- 
nounced, also,  that  sortie  difficulties  as  to  his 
doctrinal  belief  rendered  it  more  convenient 


for  him  to  leave  the  communion  to  which  he 
at  first  belonged  and  become  connected  with 
the  Episcopal  Church  of  England.  For  a 
while  he  was  the  principal  of  a  seminary  in 
London.  He  was  ordained  in  that  body  as  a 
clergyman,  and  from  time  to  time  he  has  ap- 
peared occasionally  in  the  metropolitan  pul- 
pit, where  he  is  always  welcome.  His  sermons 
are  generally  delivered  without  notes,  and  in 
character  are  mostly  expositor)'.  He  is  a 
subtle  preacher,  almost  a  mystic.  His  in- 
tensely sympathetic  temperament,  combined 
with  his  delicately-organized  imagination, 
renders  him  impetuous  and  headlong  in  his 
conclusions. 

This  author  is  now  an  elderly  man,  with 
long  bushy  beard  grown  gray  with  the  years. 
We  have  deliberately  chosen  out  of  many 
portraits  fashioned  of  him  at  different  periods 
of  his  life  this  one  that  accompanies  our 
sketch.  It  represents  him  with  striking 
vividness  as  the  man  who  stood  by  our  side 
in  the  Memorial  Church  in  New  York  city. 
May,  1873,  and  delivered  an  unwritten  dis- 
course on  the  text :  "  Whosoever  will  be  chief 
among  you,  let  him  be  your  servant."  No 
one  of  all  the  vast  audience  who  listened  that 
morning  ever  forgot  what  he  heard.  The 
fortieth  chapter  of  Isaiah,  which  the  preacher 
read  at  the  beginning  of  the  service,  took  on 
a  new  meaning  as  the  matchlessly  sympa- 
thetic cadences  of  his  voice  rose  and  fell  with 
a  kind  of  intonation  peculiarly  his  own,  defy- 
ing all  rules  of  rhetorical  or  elocutionary  ren- 
dering, and  yet  wonderfully  effective  :  "  Com- 
fort ye,  comfort  ye  my  people,  saith  your 
God."  His  great  fame  since  has  been  gained 
through  his  creation  of  the  modern  religious 
novel,  but  we  remember  him  best  as  a 
preacher. 

The  characteristic  excellence  which  attracts 
readers  to  the  stories  of  this  well-known  au- 
thor is  this:  he  loves  his  fellow-men.  His 
heart  is  with  their  hearts.  His  hand  is  out 
toward  every  one  to  give  help  from  the  human 
clasp.  He  cares  no  more  for  titles  than  did 
Sir  Gibbie  himself.  He  cares  only  to  lift  and 
to  cheer,  to  prompt  and  to  teach  the  one  he 
touches  with  the  message  he  brings. 


784  ' '  -^  Itog ether  Lovely. ' ' 

My  God  !  the  spring  of  all  my  joys. 
The  life  of  my  delights, 

The  glory  of  my  brightest  days, 
And  comfort  of  my  nights! 

2  In  darkest  shades  if  he  appear. 

My  dawning  is  begun  : 
He  is  my  soul's  sweet  morning  star. 

And  he  my  rising  sun. 


CM. 


LOVE   AND    COMMUNION    WITH    CHRIST. 


339 


3  The  opening  heavens  around  me  shine 
With  beams  of  sacred  bliss, 

While  Jesus  shows  his  heart  is  mine, 
And  whispers,  I  am  his. 

4  My  soul  would  leave  this  heavy  clay. 
At  that  transporting  word  ; 

Run  up  with  joy  the  shining  way, 
To  meet  my  gracious  Lord  ! 

By  many  of  the  best  critics  this  has  been 
pronounced  the  most  brilliant  piece  of  real 
poetry  that  Ur.  Isaac  Watts  ever  wrote.  It 
is  No.  54  in  Book  II.  of  his  Hymns.  The 
figures,  the  rhythm,  the  spirit,  all  are  of  the 
highest  order.  The  one  thought  pervading 
the  verses  is  that  in  all  the  exhilaration  of  this 
world  there  is  a  false  note ;  there  can  be  no 
joy  except  "  the  joy  of  the  Lord."  The  an- 
cient motto — "  Speak  fair  words  and  you 
will  hear  kind  echoes  " — is  not  exactly  true  in 
such  a  world  as  ours.  Something  ridiculously 
mortifying  always  happens  to  the  one  whom 
the  populace  praises  into  conceit.  I  read 
only  a  little  while  ago  in  Greek  history,  that 
^4ischylus,  the  poet,  was  so  celebrated  by 
many  in  his  time  that  they  raised  the  story 
that  he  could  not  die  save  by  a  blow  from 
high  heaven.  And,  indeed,  it  so  happened 
that  an  eagle  flew  up  with  a  tortoise  in  his 
talons,  and,  desiring  to  break  the  shell,  mis- 
took the  tragedian's  bald  head  for  a  stone, 
and  so  let  the  heavy  reptile  come  down  on  it : 
thus  was  fulfilled  the  precious  oracle.  No- 
body, however,  learns  the  lesson.  Yet  the 
number  of  "  pierced  "  men  increases,  and  a 
morose  feeling  of  discontent  fills  the  air  with 
complaints  of  injustice.  Moments  of  success 
are  often  moments  of  mourning.  Men  at  the 
top  of  things  are  oftener  cynical  than  con- 
tented. They  have  reached  their  so-called 
prosperity  just  as  they  have  lost  the  power  to 
enjoy  it.  So  they  greet  your  congratulations 
with  a  reply  from  the  Spanish  book  of  prov- 
erbs :  "  The  gods  give  plenty  of  almonds  to 
the  toothless !" 

Hence  it  comes  to  pass  that  we  can  find  a 
large  class  of  men  concealing  their  real  dis- 
appointment under  a  sort  of  vail  of  philosophy. 
They  say  they  have  reached  rest  at  last ;  am- 
bition is  satisfied ;  strife  is  over ;  all  is  calm. 
But  their  tranquility  is  only  the  shame  of  what 
novelists  call  disenchantment,  their  passion- 
less quiet  is  only  satiety,  their  serenity  is  only 
disgust.  It  makes  us  think  of  that  pathetic 
little  card  which  went  the  rounds  in  the  war : 
a  great  river  swelling  on  in  the  moonlight,  two 
or  three  hillocks  with  headboards  white  un- 
der the  trees,  no  living  thing  beside  the  sol- 
diers' graves,  and  the  motto  "  All  quiet  on  the 
Potomac."  So  worldlings  quiet  down  at  the 
last ;  the  fight  has  brought  no  victory,  the 


weary  march  has  caught  no  triumph ;  the  light 
is  but  a  night-light,  the  stillness  is  nothing 
more  than  the  solemnity  of  death. 

785  Evening  Song  to  Christ.  C.  M. 

To  thee,  O  Christ,  we  ever  pray, 
And  blend  our  prayer  with  tears : 

Thou  pure  and  holy  One,  alway 
Protect  our  night  of  years  ! 

2  Our  hearts  shall  be  at  rest  in  thee, 
In  sleep  they  dream  thy  praise; 

And  to  thy  glory  faithfully 
They  hail  the  coming  days. 

3  Give  us  a  life  that  cannot  fail ! 
Refresh  our  spirits  then  ; 

Let  blackest  night  before  thee  pale  ; 
And  bring  thy  light  to  men. 

4  Our  vows  in  song  we  pay  thee  still. 
And,  at  this  evening  hour. 

May  all  that  we  have  purposed  ill 
Be  right  through  perfect  power. 

Rev.  Samuel  Willoughby  Duffield  an- 
nounces this  as  a  rendering  of  the  hymn, 
'■'Christi  precainur  annue,"  of  Ennodius,  Bish- 
op of  Pavia,  who  lived  in  the  fifth  century. 
It  was  written  in  1883  for  Laiides  Doviini, 
where  it  first  appeared.  It  is  a  very  beautiful 
evening  song,  addressed  directly  to  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ ;  the  real  spirit  of  supplication 
breathes  through  every  one  of  its  lines. 
"  Prayer,"  wrote  an  old  Nonconformist  once, 
"  is  the  rope  in  the  belfry ;  we  pull  it,  and  it 
is  sure  to  ring  the  bell  up  in  heaven.  We  may 
not  hear  the  strokes,  but  they  sound  aloft  in 
the  tower." 


786 


Strength,  Fortress,  Refuge.  C.  M. 

Dear  Refuge  of  my  wear>-  soul. 

On  thee,  when  sorrows  rise, 
On  thee,  when  waves  of  trouble  roll. 

My  fainting  hope  relies. 

2  To  thee  I  tell  each  rising  grief. 
For  thou  alone  canst  heal ; 

Thy  word  can  bring  a  sweet  relief 
For  every  pain  I  feel. 

3  But  oh,  when  gloomy  doubts  prevail, 
I  fear  to  call  thee  mme; 

The  springs  of  comfort  seem  to  fail. 
And  all  my  hopes  decline. 

4  Yet,  gracious  God,  where  shall  I  flee  ? 
Thou  art  my  only  trust ; 

And  still  my  soul  would  cleave  to  thee, 
Though  prostrate  in  the  dust. 

5  Thy 


Thy  mercy-seat  is  open  still. 
Here  let  my  soul  retreat, 

'•"■  ' ""le  hope  attend  thy-  ■ 

beneath  thy  feet. 


Here  let  my  soul  retreat. 
With  humble  hope  attend  thy  will, 
.\nd  wait  beneath  thy  feet. 


"  Theodosia"  gave  as  her  title  to  this,  pos- 
sibly the  most  popular  of  all  the  pieces  she 
published  in  her  Poems,  1760,  "God  the  only 
Refuge  of  the  Troubled  Mind."  If  Miss  Anne 
Steele  has  no  other  memorial  than  her  songs, 
she  will  still  have  an  undying  remembrance 
in  the  hearts  of  those  she  has  comforted. 
There  are  two  dangers  usually  to  be  appre- 


340 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


hended  in  the  case  of  those  who  are  afflicted 
severely  with  sickness,  especially  if  it  be  pro- 
longed into  invalidhood  and  continued  pain — 
sinning  and  sinking ;  and  either  of  these  would 
be  fatal  to  all  true  advancement.  When  a  be- 
liever is  smitten  terribly,  he  is  not  always  just 
in  the  mood  to  be  reasonable.  Every  nerv^e 
is  quivering  with  agony ;  he  cannot  see  the 
wisdom  nor  the  fairness  of  its  infliction. 
"  None  out  of  hell,"  says  good  Bishop  Hall, 
"  have  suffered  so  much  as  some  of  God's 
children."  And  when,  in  the  depths  of  a  new 
and  overwhelming  desolation,  the  afflicted 
man  marks  only  the  clouds  of  his  trouble,  it. 
is  possible  that  his  patience  should  give  way, 
and  that  his  willfulness  should  explode  into 
almost  impious  violence  of  passionate  rebel- 
lion.   There  is  no  relief  in  this  and  it  is  a  sin. 

The  more  common  danger  for  a  Christian 
under  trial  is  that  he  shall  sink  into  a  state  of 
stupor,  of  listlessness,  or  despair.  A  great 
numbness  settles  upon  the  soul.  There  are 
pains  which  lie  a  great  distance  lower  than 
the  bottom  of  the  grave.  The  poet  Cowper, 
tearing  out  a  leaf  from  his  own  awful  expe- 
rience, says :  "  There  are  as  truly  things  which 
it  is  not  lawful  for  man  to  utter  as  those  were 
which  Paul  heard  and  saw  in  the  third 
heaven  ;  if  the  ladder  of  Christian  life  reaches, 
as  I  suppose  it  does,  to  the  very  presence  of 
God,  it  nevertheless  has  its  foot  in  the  very 
abyss."  Under  an  abiding  blackness  of 
darkness  like  this,  some  believers  cannot  pre- 
vail upon  themselves  to  look  towards  any 
proffered  light.  It  seems  to  them  that  some- 
thing has  got  astray,  the  universe  is  misruled 
by  a  fate,  the  devil  is  triumphant,  and  it  is  no 
use  to  fight ;  it  is  just  as  well  to  cover  up 
one's  face.    So  they  reason  and  grow  sullen. 

Now  against  both  of  these  baleful  postures 
of  mind,  the  passionate  and  the  listless,  does 
this  thought  of  preaching  the  gospel  from  a 
pulpit  of  patient  suffering  for  the  great  glory 
of  God  array  itself.  It  is  wise  to  keep  in 
mind  the  fact  that  souls  may  be  won  to  the 
cross  by  a  life  on  a  sick-bed  just  as  well  as 
by  9  life  in  a  cathedral  desk.  Pure  submis- 
sion is  as  good  as  going  on  a  foreign 
mission. 

"  So  speak  we  fer\'ent :  I  have  learned  by  knocking  at 

heaven's  gate 
The  meaning  of  one  golden  word  that  shines  above 

it— 'Wait!' 
For,  with  the  Master  whom  we  ser\'e,  is  not  to  ride  or 

run. 
But  only  to  abide  his  will— well  waited  is  well  done  !" 

787  "  ll^/iom  unseen,  we  love."  C.  M. 

Jesus,  these  eyes  have  never  seen 

That  radiant  form  of  thine! 
The  vail  of  sense  hangs  dark  between 

Thy  blessed  face  and  mine  ! 


2  I  see  thee  not,  I  hear  thee  not, 
Yet  art  thou  oft  with  me  ; 

And  earth  hath  ne'er  so  dear  a  spot 
As  where  I  meet  with  thee. 

3  Like  some  bright  dream  that  comes  unsought. 
When  slumbers  o'er  me  roll, 

Thine  image  ever  fills  my  thought, 
And  charms  my  ravished  soul. 

4  Yet,  though  I  have  not  seen,  and  still 
Must  rest  in  faith  alone. 

I  love  thee,  dearest  Lord  ! — and  will. 
Unseen,  but  not  unknown. 

5  When  death  these  mortal  eyes  shall  seal, 
And  still  this  throbbing  heart. 

The  rending  vail  shall  thee  reveal, 
All  glorious  as  thou  art ! 

At  the  time  of  Dr.  Ray  Palmer's  death,  it 
was  feared  by  some  who  loved  him  very 
much,  so  commanding  was  the  fame  of  "  My 
faith  looks  up  to  Thee,"  that  its  author  was 
in  danger  of  being  considered  "  a  hymnist  of 
one  hymn."  Few  singers,  on  sudden  call, 
could  repeat  a  list  of  first  lines  by  which  his 
best  compositions  besides  that  might  be 
chosen  for  a  funeral  service  in  the  various 
churches.  None  of  them  had,  in  all  the 
years,  become  as  familiar  as  that  one.  Now 
it  is  known  that  he  himself  thought  this  to  be 
his  best  production,  certainly  next  to  that 
earliest  of  them  all.  It  was  one  of  its  stan- 
zas, the  last  in  number,  which  he  was  over- 
heard to  repeat,  in  his  feebleness,  on  the  day 
before  he  died ;  and  he  was  wont  to  call  at- 
tention modestly  to  it  when  he  was  ques- 
tioned by  the  compilers  who  wished  to  know 
his  preferences. 

It  was  composed  in  Albany,  N.  Y.,  in  1858; 
he  entitled  it,  "  Christ  Loved  though  Un- 
seen," and  affixed  to  it  a  clause  from  I.  Peter 
I  :  8.  The  publication  of  it  was  first  made  in  . 
the  Sabbath  Hymn-Book,  1858.  The  vener- 
able author  in  person  related  the  origin  of  it, 
disclosing  a  curious  experience,  which,  to 
those  who  knew  him,  illustrates  a  certain 
kind  of  mysticism  in  the  devotion  and  affec- 
tion he  felt  for  the  Saviour,  characteristic  of 
some  of  his  highest  moods.  He  said  he  was 
seated  at  his  study  table  preparing  a  sermon 
which  had  Christ  for  its  special  theme. 
Needing  a  volume  in  his  closed  bookcase,  he 
arose  and  opened  the  door.  To  his  surprise 
the  very  book  appeared  just  at  his  hand.  At 
once  this  suggested  to  his  imagination  that  in 
some  such  way  the  countenance  of  Jesus 
Christ  would  be  unvailed  to  Christians ;  this 
thought  immediately  possessed  his  mind,  and 
so  filled  him  with  emotion  that  he  turned 
back  to  his  desk,  interrupting  the  sermon  by 
the  composition  of  the  hymn.  And  this  was 
the  result  of  his  real  experience. 


LOVE  AND   COMMUNION   WITH   CHRIST. 


341 


788  "Not  seen, ye  love."  8s.  D. 

My  Saviour,  whom  absent  I  love, 

Whom,  nut  having  seen,  I  adore, 
Whose  name  is  exalted  above 

Ail  glory,  dominion,  and  power — 
Dissolve  thou  these  bands  that  detain 

My  soul  from  her  portion  in  thee ; 
Ah,  strike  off  this- adamant  chain, 

And  make  me  eternally  free ! 

2  When  that  happy  era  begins. 
When  arrayed  in  thy  glories  I  shine, 

Nor  grieve  any  more,  by  my  sins. 

The  bosom  on  which  I  recline. 
Oh,  then  shall  the  vail  be  removed. 

And  round  me  thy  brightness  be  poured  ! 
I  shall  meet  him,  whom  absent  I  loved, 

I  shall  see,  whom  unseen  I  adored ! 

3  And  then,  nevermore  shall  the  fears, 
The  trials,  temptations,  and  woes, 

Which  darken  this  valley  of  tears. 

Intrude  on  my  blissful  repose  : 
To  Jesus,  the  crown  of  my  hope. 

My  soul  is  in  haste  to  be  gone; 
Oh,  bear  me,  ye  cherubim,  up. 

And  waft  me  away  to  his  throne  I 

This  hymn  in  its  original  form  began  with 
the  line,  "  To  Jesus,  the  crown  of  my  hope," 
but  the  arrangement  of  the  stanzas  was 
altered  in  order  to  render  the  divisions  of 
eight  lines  more  easy  and  natural.  It  does 
not  appear  with  most  of  William  Cowper's 
hymns  in  the  Olney  Collection,  but  it  has 
always  been  accredited  to  him,  and  is  supposed 
to  have  been  the  last  one  he  ever  wrote,  1 783. 
It  is  certainly  worth  preserving  for  its  unu- 
sual meter,  as  well  as  its  wide  popularity  on 
both  sides  of  the  sea.  Such  a  song  of  love 
and  aspiration  expresses  in  glowing  words 
the  believer's  comfort  in  holding  communion 
even  here  and  now,  once  in  a  while,  with  a 
Redeemer  out  of  sight.  Under  the  ancient 
dispensation,  the  high  priest  wore  golden 
bells  upon  his  garment.  While  he  was  in- 
side of  the  tabernacle  curtains,  the  small, 
sweet  sound  of  their  ringing  could  be  heard 
by  the  faithful  people.  Christ,  the  high-priest 
of  our  profession,  is  just  for  a  while  out  of 
our  reach,  within  the  vail  of  the  sanctuary 
above ;  a  chastened  imagination  can  almost 
hear  him  making  ready  to  come  forth  to  us. 
We  must  "  endure,  as  seeing  him  who  is  in- 
visible." And  every  joy  we  have  is  a  fore- 
taste and  an  evidence  of  the  fullness  of  joy 
hereinafter  to  be  revealed. 

789  Psalm  23.  P.  M. 
The  King  of  love  mv  Shepherd  is, 

Whose  goodness  faileth  never  ; 

1  nothing  lack  if  I  am  his. 
And  he  is  mine  for  ever. 

2  Where  streams  of  living  water  flow 
My  ransomed  soul  he  leadeth. 

And,  where  the  verdant  pastures  grow. 
With  food  celestial  feedeth. 

3  Perverse  and  foolish,  oft  I  strayed, 
But  yet  in  love  he  sought  me. 

And  on  his  shoulder  gently  laid. 
And  home,  rejoicing,  brought  me. 


4  In  death's  dark  vale  I  fear  no  ill 
With  thee,  dear  Lord,  beside  me. 

Thy  rod  and  staff  my  comfort  still. 
Thy  cross  before  to  guide  me. 

5  Thou  spread'st  a  table  in  my  sight. 
Thy  unction  grace  bestoweth. 

And,  oh,  what  transport  of  delight 
From  thy  pure  chalice  flowetn  ! 

6  And  so  through  all  the  length  of  days 
Thy  goodness  faileth  never ; 

Good  Shepherd  !  may  I  sing  thy  praise 
Within  thy  house  for  ever. 

Rev.  Henry  Williams  Baker,  minister  and 
baronet,  has  done  much  admirable  work  for 
the  singing  people  of  God  ;  but  there  is  noth- 
ing in  it  better  than  this  beautiful  version  of 
Psalm  23.  And  Dr.  Dykes'  tune,  Dominus 
Regit,  is  as  fine  as  the  hymn.  The  date  of 
the  composition  is  1868,  and  it  was  first  pub- 
lished in  the  Appendix  to  Hymns,  Ancient 
and  Modern.  The  last  two  lines  of  the 
third  verse  were  the  final  words  of  the  author, 
spoken  just  before  he  died.  The  sheep  had 
at  last  been  brought  into  the  fold  on  the 
Shepherd's  shoulder. 


790  An  ancient  Hynm. 

Jesus,  name  all  names  above, 
Jesus,  best  and  dearest, 

Jesus,  fount  of  perfect  love, 

Holiest,  tenderest,  nearest  ; 

Jesus,  source  of  grace  completest, 

Jesus,  purest,  Jesus,  sweetest, 

Jesus,  well  of  power  divine, 
Make  me,  keep  me,  seal  me  thine. 

2  Jesus,  open  me  the  gate 

Which  the  sinner  entered 
Who,  in  his  last  dying  state. 

Wholly  on  thee  ventured  ; 
Thou,  whose  wounds  are  ever  pleading. 
And  thy  passion  interceding. 

From  my  misery  let  me  rise 

To  a  home  in  Paradise. 

3  Thou  didst  call  the  prodigal : 

Thou  didst  paraon  Mar>' : 
Thou  whose  words  can  never  fall, 

Love  can  never  vary  : 
Lord,  to  heal  my  lost  condition. 
Give — for  thou  canst  give— contrition ; 

Thou  canst  pardon  all  my  ill 

If  thou  wilt ; — oh,  say,  "  I  will!" 

4  Woe,  that  I  have  turned  aside 

After  fleshly  pleasure ! 
Woe,  that  I  have  faintly  tried  • 

For  the  heavenly  treasure  ! 
Treasure,  safe  In  home  supernal, 
Incorruptible,  eternal: 

Treasure  no  less  price  hath  won 

Than  the  passion  of  the  Son. 

5  Jesus,  crowned  with  thorns  forme. 

Scourged  for  my  transgression, 
Witnessing,  in  agony. 

That  thy  good  confession  ; 
Jesus,  clad  in  purple  raiment, 
For  my  evil  making  payment, 

Let  not  all  thy  woe  and  pain, 

Let  not  Calvary,  be  in  vain. 


P.M. 


342 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


6  When  I  cross  death's  bitter  sea. 

And  its  waves  roll  higher, 
Help  the  more  forsaking  me 

As  the  storm  draws  nigher : 
Jesus,  leave  me  not  to  languish, 
Helpless,  hopeless,  full  of  anguish  ; 

Tell  me,  "Verily  I  say, 

Thou  shall  be  with  me  to-day." 

rheoctistus  of  the  Studium  was  one  of  the 
monks  of  the  great  Greek  monastery  at  Con- 
stantinople during  the  latter  part  of  the  ninth 
centur}'.  This  friend  of  St.  Joseph,  whose 
hymn  we  have  had  before,  wrote  a  piece 
called  in  the  professional  language  of  such 
ecclesiastics,  a  "  Suppliant  Canon  to  Jesus." 
It  was  from  this  that  we  received  the  cento 
which  Dr.  John  Mason  Neale  rendered  into 
the  English  hymn  now  before  us,  found  in 
his  Hytnns  of  the  Eastern  Church,  1862.  It 
is  odd  in  its  meter,  and  the  tune  is  odder 
still.  We  have  found  the  adaptation  gener- 
ally impracticable  for  a  congregation,  or  even 
for  an  ordinary  church  choir,  and  have  been 
constrained  to  provide  other  music  in  the 
New  iMudes  Domini.  But  the  hymn  is  ex- 
cellent ;  it  is  fairly  fascinating  with  its  quick 
allusions  to  the  life  of  our  Lord. 


791 


"  I  will  come  to  you." 


Come,  Jesus,  Redeemer,  abide  thou  with  me ; 
Come,  gladden  my  spirit  that  waiteth  for  thee; 
Thy  smile  every  shadow  shall  chase  from  my  heart. 
And  soothe  ever\-  sorrow  though  keen  be  the  smart. 

2  Without  thee  but  weakness,  with  thee  I  am  strong ; 
By  day  thou  shalt  lead  me,  by  night  be  my  song; 
Though  dangers  surround  me,  I  still  every  fear, 
Since  thou,  the  Most  Mighty,  my  Helper,  art  near. 

3  Thy  love,  oh,  how  faithful !  so  tender,  so  pure  ! 
Thy  promise,  faith's  anchor,  how  steadfast  and  sure ! 
That  love,   like  sweet  sunshine,   my  cold    heart   can 

warm. 
That  promise  make  steady  my  soul  in  the  storm. 

4  Breathe,  breathe  on  my  spirit,  ofl  ruffled,  thy  peace: 
From  restless,  vain  wishes,  bid  thou  my  heart  cease; 
In  thee  all  its  longings  henceforward  shall  end. 

Till,  glad,  to  thy  presence  my  soul  shall  ascend. 

5  Oh,  then,  blessed  Jesus,  who  once  for  me  died. 
Made  clean  in  the  fountain  that  gushed  from  thy  side, 
I  shall  see  thy  full  glory,  thy  face  shall  behold, 

And  praise  thee  with  raptures  for  ever  untold  ! 

We  have  always  congratulated  ourselves 
for  having  introduced  this  one  of  Dr.  Ray 
Palmer's  hymns  to  the  Christian  public.  It 
was  printed  in  Songs  for  the  Sanctuary,  1865. 
It  is  rich  with  feeling,  devotion,  and  cheerful- 
ness. The  reproach  which  a  ribald  world 
keeps  leveling  at  the  church  is  that  all  human 
hope  and  joy,  all  exuberance  of  a  contented 
and  happy  heart,  are  heavily  repressed  by 
rigid  rules  of  behavior ;  men  are  thundered  at 
by  the  "  thou  shalt  nots  "  of  the  Decalogue, 
and  (all  fun  one  side)  it  does  have  a  "  dam- 
pening effect "  upon  everybody  to  walk  along 
on  the  verge  of  the  tomb  moaning  over 
melancholy  prayers. 


The  picture  here  offered  furnishes  an  ex- 
quisite reply  to  sneers  like  this.  We  have  all 
seen  those  cunning  clocks  from  Switzerland, 
hung  on  work-room  walls,  so  contrived  that, 
as  they  tell  the  hours  patiently  off  with  hands 
accurately  running  across  the  dial,  they  shall 
also  with  each  regular  stroke  of  the  bell  in- 
stantly burst  into  some  lively  little  tune,  and 
play  through  the  succeeding  minutes  until 
sober  ticking  of  real  work  should  be  needed 
again.  And  then  it  would  be  found  that  no 
valuable  force  had  been  wasted.  Not  a  second 
had  been  lost,  in  the  time  of  the  day,  for  all 
the  sweet  recreation  of  the  music.  The  whole 
room  seemed  brighter  and  happier  for  the 
sudden  strain  which  came  forth  from  the 
mechanism.  Yet  it  was  the  same  weights 
that  moved  the  pendulum  which  also  swept 
the  unseen  fingers  over  the  hidden  wires ;  it 
was  just  work,  with  its  solemn  purpose  un- 
changed, which  did  the  singing.  Some  Chris- 
tians can  keep  this  up  exactly  for  a  long  life- 
time of  love  and  labor.  These  will  under- 
stand precisely  what  Paul  means  here  :  "  Let 
the  word  of  Christ  dwell  in  you  richly  in  all 
wisdom ;  teaching  and  admonishing  one  an- 
other in  psalms  and  hymns  and  spiritual 
songs,  singing  with  grace  in  your  hearts  to 
the  Lord."  "  The  devil,"  said  Martin  Luther 
once,  "  is  afraid  of  good  singing  !" 


792 


"  Distresses  for  Christ' s  sake." 


For  what  shall  I  praise  thee,  my  God  and  my  King, 
For  what  blessings  the  tribute  of  gratitude  bring? 
Shall  I  praise  thee  for  pleasure,  for  health,  or  for  ease, 
For  the  sunshine  of  youth,  for  the  garden  of  peace? 

2  For  this  I  should  praise  ;  but  if  only  for  this, 
I  should  leave  half  untold  the  donation  of  bliss  I 
I  thank  thee  for  sickness,  for  sorrow,  and  care. 
For  the  thorns  I  have  gathered,  the  anguish  I  bear; 

3  For  nights  of  anxiety,  watching,  and  tears, 
A  present  of  pain,  a  prospective  of  fears  ; 

I  praise  thee,  I  bless  thee,  my  Lord  and  my  God, 
For  the  good  and  the  evil  thy  hand  hath  bestowed  ! 

Mrs.  Caroline  (Fry)  Wilson  was  the  daugh- 
ter of  a  well-to-do  farmer,  and  was  born  at 
Tunbridge  Wells,  England,  December  31, 
1787.  She  published  many  volumes,  among 
them  being  A  History  of  England  in  Verse, 
1 80 1  ;  A  Poetical  Catechism,  1821  ;  Serious 
Poetry,  1822.  In  1831  she  became  the  wife 
of  a  Mr.  Wilson,  and  died  in  her  native  town, 
September  17,  1846.  Mrs.  Wilson  wrote  an 
Autobiography  which  gave  many  incidents  of 
her  somewhat  eventful  career,  and  this  was 
published  in  1843  with  her  letters  and  some 
of  her  fugitive  pieces.  She  was  a  woman  of 
much  force  and  of  earnest  piety.  She  had 
long  seasons  of  invalidhood  ;  and  she  has 
wrought  her  lessons  of  experience  into  this 


LOVE  AND   COMMUNION   WITH   CHRIST. 


343 


hymn.  One  thinks  of  Paul's  thorn  in  the  flesh, 
and  his  thanksgiving  for  pain,  II.  Corinthians 
12 :  lo. 

793 


"Look  unto  Me."  6s,  4s. 

Mv  faith  looks  up  to  thee, 
Thou  Lamb  of  Calvary'i 

Saviour  divine ! 
Now  hear  me  while  I  pray. 
Take  all  my  guilt  away, 
Oh,  let  me  from  this  day 

Be  wholly  thine ! 

2  May  thy  rich  grace  impart 
Strength  to  my  fainting  heart ; 

My  zeal  inspire; 
As  thou  hast  died  for  me, 
Oh,  may  my  love  to  thee 
Pure,  warm,  and  changeless  be, 

A  living  fire  ! 

3  While  life's  dark  maze  I  tread. 
And  griefs  around  me  spread, 

Be  thou  my  guide ; 
Bid  darkness  turn  to  day, 
Wipe  sorrow's  tears  away. 
Nor  let  me  ever  stray 

From  thee  aside. 

4  When  ends  life's  transient  dream, 
When  death's  cold,  sullen  stream 

Shall  o'er  me  roll, 
Blest  Saviour !  then,  in  love. 
Fear  and  distrust  remove  ; 
Oh,  bear  me  safe  above, 

A  ransomed  soul ! 

The  story  of  this  sacred  song,  the  most 
famous,  perhaps,  and  certainly  one  of  the 
most  useful,  belonging  to  modern  times,  has 
been  often  told.  The  author.  Dr.  Ray 
Palmer,  gave  the  facts  some  years  ago  to  a 
religious  paper  in  London ;  he  said  it  was 
written  in  New  York  in  the  house  of  a  lady 
who  kept  the  school  in  which  he  was  a 
teacher.  It  was  not  prompted  by  any  out- 
ward circumstances,  nor  had  it  any  special 
call  as  a  composition.  He  was  then  in  poor 
health,  and  was  near  twenty-two  years  of  age. 
"  It  was  born  in  my  heart,  and  demanded  ex- 
pression," the  poet  has  revealed  since.  "  There 
was  not  the  slightest  thought  of  writing  for 
another  eye,  least  of  all  of  writing  a  hymn  for 
Christian  worship.  I  gave  form  to  what  I 
felt,  by  writing  the  stanzas,  with  little  effort. 
I  recollect  I  wrote  them  with  very  tender 
emotion,  and  penned  the  last  line  with  tears."  795 
This  was  in  1830,  and  the  poem  did  not 
see  the  light  again  till  1831.  Lowell  Mason 
and  Thomas  Hastings  were  then  compiling  a 
small  book  called  Spiritual  Songs  for  Social 
Worship  ;  it  was  a  passing  request  made  by 
Dr.  Mason  that  Dr.  Palmer  would  contribute 
to  this,  which  brought  out  the  hitherto  un- 
known piece  of  poetry,  in  the  recesses  of  a 
pocket-book.  They  were  in  Boston  at  the 
time.  While  the  compiler  waited,  the  com- 
poser went  into  a  convenient  store  and  copied 
the  verses  without  any  comment  on    either 


side  ;  then  each  proceeded  on  his  way.  Dr. 
Mason  wrote  for  the  hymn  the  tune  "  Olivet," 
which  has  kept  its  company  for  all  these 
wedded  years  with  a  sweet  fidelity  that  no 
loving  man  has  ever  dared  to  disturb.  Two 
or  three  days  later,  Mr.  Mason  said,  as  he 
met  his  friend  again  :  "  Mr.  Palmer,  you  may 
live  many  years,  and  do  many  good  things, 
but  I  believe  you  will  be  best  known  to  pos- 
terity as  the  author  of  the  hymn,  '  My  faith 
looks  up  to  thee.'  " 


794  "  Jesus,  my  Lord."  6s,  4s. 

Jesus,  thy  name  I  love, 
All  other  names  above, 

Jesus,  my  Lord  ! 
Oh,  thou  art  all  to  me ! 
Nothing  to  please  I  see, 
Nothing  apart  from  thee, 

Jesus,  my  Lord  ! 

2  Thou,  bless6d  son  of  God, 
Hast  bought  me  with  thy  blood, 

Jesus,  my  Lord ! 
Oh,  how  great  is  thy  love. 
All  other  loves  above, 
Love  that  I  daily  prove, 

Jesus,  my  Lord ! 

3  When  unto  thee  I  flee. 
Thou  wilt  my  refuge  be, 

Jesus,  my  Lord  ! 
What  need  I  now  to  fear  ? 
What  earthly  grief  or  care. 
Since  thou  art  "ever  near, 

Jesus,  my  Lord  ! 

4  Soon  thou  wilt  come  again  .' 
I  shall  be  happy  then, 

Jesus,  my  Lord  ! 
Then  thine  own  face  I  '11  see. 
Then  I  shall  like  thee  be, 
Then  evermore  with  thee, 

Jesus,  my  Lord ! 

Another  of  the  hymns  of  Rev.  James  George 
Deck,  interesting  because  of  its  brightness  and 
because  of  its  refrain,  and  because  of  the  tune 
"  Lyte  "  which  has  carried  it  into  popularity 
for  many  years.  But  the  Dictionary  of  Hym- 
nology  does  not  mention  it,  nor  does  English 
Hytnns ;  and  the  careful  Dr.  Hatfield,  al- 
though he  gives  the  name,  and  even  the  date, 
"  1842,"  adds  an  interrogation  point  to  signify 
his  dissatisfaction  with  the  credit. 


Never  separated. 

I  KNOW  no  life  divided, 
O  Lord  of  life,  from  thee  : 

In  thee  is  life  provided 
For  all  mankind  and  me; 

1  know  no  death,  O  Jesus, 
Because  I  live  in  thee  ; 

Thy  death  it  is  that  frees  us 
From  death  eternally. 

2  I  fear  no  tribulation, 
Since,  whatsoe'er  it  be, 

It  makes  no  separation 
Between  my  Lord  and  me. 

If  thou,  my  God  and  Teacher, 
Vouchsafe  to  be  my  own, 

Though  poor,  I  shall  be  richer 
Than  monarch  on  his  throne. 


7s,  6s.  D. 


344 


CHRISTIAN   EXPERIENCE. 


3  If,  while  on  earth  I  wander, 

My  heart  is  right  and  blest. 
Ah,  what  shall  I  be  yonder, 

In  perfect  peace  and  rest? 
Oh,  blessed  thought  !  in  dying 

We  go  to  meet  the  Lord, 
Where  there  shall  be  no  sighing, 

A  kingdom  our  reward. 

From  the  Hymnologia  Christiana  of  Dr. 
B.  H.  Kennedy,  1863,  this  piece  seems  to 
have  been  taken  by  the  compilers  generally. 
It  is  a  translation  by  Richard  Massie  of  the 
German  hymn,  "(9  Jcsu,  meine  Sonne"  of 
Rev.  Carl  Johann  Spitta,  D.  D.,  who  died 
September  28,  1859.  It  is  reported,  in  the 
biography  of  this  very  popular  and  verseful 
hymn-writer,  that  he  was  a  musician  of  much 
repute  also,  and  that  it  was  his  habit  to  sing 
in  the  evening  with  his  family,  "  perhaps 
composing  both  hymn  and  tune  together  as 
Luther  did  ;"  and  it  is  added  that  "  the  har- 
mony of  the  voices  and  the  melody  of  the 
words  were  such  that  crowds  of  people  used 
to  gather  under  his  windows  to  listen." 

796  "The  world's  true  Light."  ys,  6s.  D, 

O  ONE  with  God  the  Father 

In  majesty  and  might. 
The  brightness  of  his  glory, 

Eternal  Light  of  light : 
O'er  this  our  home  of  darkness 

Thy  rays  are  streaming  now ; 
The  shadows  flee  before  thee, 

The  world's  true  Light  art  thou. 

2  Yet,  Lord,  we  see  but  darkly — 

O  heavenly  Light,  arise, 
Dispel  these  mists  that  shroud  us, 

And  hide  thee  from  our  eyes  ! 
We  long  to  track  the  footprints 

That  thou  thyself  hast  trod  ; 
We  long  to  see  the  pathway 

That  leads  to  thee  our  God. 

2  O  Jesus,  shine  around  us 

With  radiance  of  thy  grace  ; 
O  Jesus,  turn  upon  us 

The  brightness  of  thy  face. 
We  need  no  star  to  guide  us. 

As  on  our  way  we  press. 
If  thou  thy  li^ht  vouchsafest, 

O  Sun  of  righteousness  ! 

The  collection  of  Church  Hymns  published 
in  England  in  1871  contains  this  poem  by 
Bishop  William  Walsham  How,  written  to 
be  used  on  Epiphany.  It  is  one  of  his  many 
beautiful  lyrics :  a  prayer  that  the  darkness 
and  perplexity  which  surround  our  earthly 
way  may  be  scattered  by  him  who  is  the 
Light  of  the  World,  and  that  we  may  be  con- 
tent to  wait  his  time.  Then  we  shall  know 
the  meaning  of  the  paradox  of  suffering ;  we 
shall  understand  how  it  can  be  that  God  the 
Father  sends  afflictions  upon  those  whom  he 
loves,  and  then  immediately  despatches  God 
the  Son  to  give  the  afflicted  ones  comfort 
under  them.  With  the  endless  ages  of  that 
new  life  open  before  us  for  our  study  and 


God's  explanation,  we  ought  to  be  willing  to 
remain  unfretted  now.  Arnold  says  well : 
"  Before  a  confessed  and  unconquerable  diffi- 
culty, the  mind,  if  in  a  healthy  state,  reposes 
as  quietly  as  when  in  the  possession  of  a  dis- 
covered truth  ;  as  quietly  and  contentedly  as 
we  are  accustomed  to  bear  that  law  of  our 
nature  which  denies  us  the  power  of  seeing 
through  all  space,  or  of  being  exempt  from 
sickness  or  decay."  We  can  afford  to  wait 
till  all  these  earthly  shadows  find  their  sub- 
stance :  "  For  now  we  see  through  a  glass, 
darkly ;  but  then  face  to  face :  now  I  know  in 
part ;  but  then  shall  I  know  even  as  also  I 
am  known." 

797  "All  fullness."  L.  M.  61. 

Jesus,  thou  source  of  calm  repose. 
All  fullness  dwells  in  thee  divine ; 

Our  strength  to  quell  the  proudest  foes; 
Our  light,  in  deepest  gloom  to  shine ; 

Thou  art  our  fortress,  strength,  and  tower, 

Our  trust  and  portion,  evermore. 

2  Jesus,  our  Comforter  thou  art ; 
Our  rest  in  toil,  our  ease  in  pain  ; 

The  balm  to  heal  each  broken  heart. 

In  storms  our  peace,  in  loss  our  gain ; 
Our  joy,  beneath  the  worldling's  frown; 
In  shame,  our  glorj-  and  our  crown  ; 

3  In  want,  our  plentiful  supply ; 

In  weakness,  our  almighty  power; 
In  bonds,  our  perfect  liberty  ; 

Our  refuge  in  temptation's  hour; 
Our  comfort  when  in  grief  and  thrall ; 
Our  life  in  death  ;  our  all  in  all. 

There  is  a  song  of  trust  and  confidence  in- 
cluded in  Rev.  Charles  W^esley's  Hyvins  and 
Sacred  Poems,  1749,  beginning,  "  Thou  hid- 
den Source  of  calm  repose,"  from  which  the 
one  now  before  us  was  taken.  Who  altered 
it  thus  extensively  the  compiler  of  Laudes 
Domini  does  not  know.  He  found  it  in  its 
present  form  in  one  of  the  old  American  col- 
lections ;  it  was  familiar  and  beloved,  and  to 
have  restored  the  phraseology  would  have 
made  it  strange  to  those  who  cared  to  sing  it. 
The  day  has  been  in  this  republic  of  ours 
when  the  churches  had  little  taste  and  less 
patience,  whenever  they  were  invited  to  in- 
vestigate mere  facts  of  composition.  They 
ate  what  was  set  before  them,  asking  no 
questions  for  conscience'  sake.  There  was 
another  time,  somewhat  similar,  when  the 
Wesleys  and  Montgomery-  and  many  others 
did  the  same  thing  with  Watts  and  Doddridge 
and  poets  generally.  And  the  results  are 
not  now  altogether  to  edification. 


798 


Jesus'  human  life. 


L.  M.  61. 


As  OFT  with  worn  and  wean.'  feet 
We  tread  earth's  rugged  valley  o'er, 

The  thought,  how  comforting  and  sweet, 
Christ  trod  this  very  path  before! 

Our  wants  and  weaknesses  he  knows, 

From  life's  first  dawning  till  its  close. 


LOVE   AND   COMMUNION    WITH    CHRIST. 


345 


2  Does  sickness,  feebleness,  or  pain, 
Or  sorrow  in  our  path  appear? 

The  recollection  will  remain, 

More  deeply  did  he  suffer  here; 
His  life  how  truly  sad  and  brief, 
Filled  up  with  suffering  and  with  grief. 

3  If  Satan  tempt  our  hearts  to  stra\'. 
And  whisper  evil  things  within, 

So  did  he  in  the  desert  way 

Assail  our  Lord  with  thoughts  of  sin  : 
When  worn,  and  in  a  feeble  hour, 
The  tempter  came  with  all  his  power. 

4  Just  such  as  I,  this  earth  he  trod. 
With  every  human  ill  but  sin  ; 

And,  though  indeed  the  very  God, 

As  I  am  now,  so  he  has  been  ; 
My  God,  my  Saviour,  look  on  me 
With  pity,  love,  and  sympathy. 

This  is  No.  4  of  James  Edmeston's  little 
book  of  Fifty  Original  Hymns,  1833.  It  is 
founded  on  Hebrews  4:15:"  Seeincj  then  that 
we  have  a  great  High- Priest,  that  is  passed  in- 
to the  heavens,  Jesus  the  Son  of  God,  let  us 
hold  fast  our  profession.  For  we  have  not  a 
high-priest  which  cannot  be  touched  with  the 
feeling  of  our  infirmities :  but  was  in  all 
points  tempted  like  as  we  are;  yet  without 
sin.  Let  us  therefore  come  boldly  unto  the 
throne  of  grace,  that  we  may  obtain  mercy, 
and  find  grace  to  help  in  time  of  need."  The 
thought  is  that  as  we  look  up  to  the  skies  in  our 
prayers,  we  are  to  remember  that  Jesus  was 
once  a  man,  and  has  been  over  all  the  ground 
of  an  earthly  career,  and  so  knows  all  about 
it  and  about  us.  In  the  account  which  Luke 
gives  in  the  book  of  the  Acts  concerning  the 
death  of  the  first  martyr,  he  says  :  "  He,  being 
full  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  looked  up  steadfastly 
into  heaven,  and  saw  the  glory  of  God,  and 
Jesus  standing  on  the  right' hand  of  God,  and 
said,  Behold,  I  see  the  heavens  opened,  and 
the  Son  of  man  standing  on  the  right  hand 
of  God."  Observe  that,  while  the  evangelist 
tells  us  in  explicit  terms  that  it  was  Jesus 
whom  Stephen  saw,  Stephen  himself,  in  the 
abrupt  and  startled  exclamation  with  which 
he  announces  the  vision,  calls  him  by  a  name 
no  other  mortal  ever  used.  Over  and  over 
again,  indeed  as  if  it  were  a  favorite  form  of 
expression,  did  our  Lord  call  himself,  while  on 
earth,  "  the  Son  of  man."  But  in  not  a  single 
instance,  either  in  the  gospels  or  the  epistles, 
did  any  one  of  the  selected  twelve  ever  em- 
ploy it  in  speaking  of  him.  Only  this  one 
martyr,  and  that  in  the  ecstatic  instant  of 
dying,  called  the  Son  of  God  the  Son  of  man. 
There  may  be  a  lesson  for  us  in  this — what 
can  it  be  }  Without  doubt  it  is  this — even 
when  ascended  and  glorified,  even  in  the 
restoration  of  the  glory  which  our  Saviour 
had  in  the  bosom  of  his  Father  before  the 
world  was,  even  now,  while  exalted  above  all 
the  heavenly  host,  Jesus  is  still  the  Son  of 


man.  The  human  nature  which  sympathized 
at  Nain,  wept  at  Bethany,  and  forgave  at 
Jerusalem — the  mind  which  argued,  the  hand 
which  swung  the  whip  of  cords,  the  heart 
which  pleaded  and  prayed,  the  voice  which 
stilled  the  sea — the  very  man,  body  and  soul, 
which  lit  the  lonely  fire  on  the  shore  of 
Tiberias  after  the  resurrection — he  it  is  who 
now  sitteth  at  the  right  hand  of  God  in 
glory ! 

799  "  My  strength,  my  Tower."  L.  M.  61. 

Thee  will  I  love,  my  strength,  my  tower. 
Thee  will  I  love,  my  joy,  my  crown  ! 

Thee  will  I  love,  with  all  my  power, 
In  all  thy  works,  and  thee  alone  : 

Thee  will  I  love,  till  the  pure  fire 

Fill  my  whole  soul  with  chaste  desire. 

2  Uphold  me  in  the  doubtful  race, 
Nor  suffer  me  again  to  stray ; 

Strengthen  my  feet,  with  steady  pace 

Still  to  press  forward  in  thy  way ; 
That  all  my  powers,  with  all  their  might. 
In  thy  sole  glory  may  unite. 

3  Thee  will  I  love,  my  joy,  my  crown  ! 
Thee  will  I  love,  my  Lord,  my  God  ! 

Thee  will  I  love,  beneath  thy  frown. 

Or  smile,  thy  scepter  or  thy  rod  : 
What  though  my  heart  and  flesh  decay  ? 
Thee  shall  I  love  in  endless  day. 

Another  of  Rev.  John  Wesley's  transla- 
tions, found  in  Hymns  and  Sacred  Poems, 
1739;  the  original  German  hymn  was  written 
by  Rev.  Johann  Schefiler,  under  his  pen- 
name  of  "  Angelus  Silesius."  He  was  one  of 
the  old  mystics,  born  at  Breslau,  in  Silesia, 
in  1624,  and  died  a  priest  in  the  Church  of 
Rome,  July  9,  1677.  The  selection  of  such 
hymns  as  these  shows  how  deeply  the  mind 
and  memory  of  John  Wesley  were  impressed 
by  the  providential  sparing  of  his  life  when 
the  rectory  at  Epworth  was  on  fire,  and  he, 
a  child  six  years  old,  was  in  utmost  peril. 
He  was  rescued  only  through  a  window  when 
the  flames  of  destruction  were  at  the  hottest. 
He  often  spoke  of  himself  as  "a  brand 
plucked  from  the  burning."  The  Methodist 
Church  has  adopted  a  representation  of  this 
incident  as  the  frontispiece  of  one  of  their 
missionary  certificates,  and  it  is  very  familiar 
in  most  parsonages  now. 

One  of  the  secrets  of  Wesley's  success  in 
preaching  was  his  adoption  of  a  plain  style 
and  homely  illustrations;  and  for  this  he 
gives  the  following  sensible  reasons  :  "  Hav- 
ing preached  one  of  my  most  polished  ser- 
mons in  a  country  church,  and  noticing  that 
the  people  gaped  and  stared  so  much,  I  con- 
cluded they  did  not  understand  it.  I  then 
put  out  all  the  words  I  thought  not  in  com- 
mon use,  and  in  preaching  the  sermon  again 
I  noticed  they  heard  it  with  their  mouths  half 
open.     1  then  said,  '  It  will  not  do  yet.'     In 


346 


CHRISTIAN   EXPERIENCE. 


the  house  where  I  lodged  there  was  an  intelli- 
gent servant- maid,  and  at  a  leisure  hour  I 
called  her  in  and  said :  '  Betty,  I  have 
preached  a  sermon,  and  have  some  doubts 
whether  the  people  understood  me;  I  will 
read  it  slowly,  and  you  will  stop  me  at  every 
word  you  do  not  understand,  and  I  will 
change  it  for  a  word  that  you  know;  and  if 
you  understand  the  sermon  the  people  will 
understand  it.'  So  I  proceeded,  writing  a 
plain  word  over  every'  hard  word.  At  length, 
'Stop,  sir;  stop,  sir!'  came  so  often  that  I 
grew  impatient,  and  said,  '  I  am  surprised  at 
you,  Betty ;  I  am  sure  everybody  will  under- 
stand that  word.'  To  which  she  replied,  '  I 
do  not  know,  sir,  what  it  means.'  Suffice  it 
to  say,  that  I  read  the  sermon  through,  and 
on  preaching  it  a  third  time  the  people  heard 
it  with  their  mouths  shut." 


800 


"  Thy  boundless  love." 


L.  M.  61. 


Jesus,  thy  boundless  love  to  me 

No  thought  can  reach,  no  tongue  declare ; 

Oh,  knit  my  thankful  heart  to  thee, 
And  reign  without  a  rival  there : 

Thine  wholly,  thine  alone,  I  am; 

Be  thou  alone  my  constant  flame. 

2  Oh,  grant  that  nothing  in  my  soul 
May  dwell,  but  thy  pure  love  alone: 

Oh,  may  thy  love  possess  me  whole — 

My  jov,  niy  treasure,  and  my  crown : 
Strange' flames  far  from  my  heart  remove; 
My  every  act,  word,  thought,  be  love. 

3  O  Love !  how  cheering  is  thy  ray ! 
All  pain  before  thy  presence  flies ; 

Care,  anguish,  sorrow,  melt  away. 

Where'er  thy  healing  beams  arise: 
O  Jesus!  nothing  may  I  see. 
Nothing  desire,  or  seek  but  thee! 

Another  of  Rev.  John  Wesley's  versions, 
this  time  a  rendering  of  Paul  Gerhardt's 
glorious  hymn  beginning  "  O  Jesu  Christ, 
mein  schonstes  Licht !"  The  author  wrote  it 
in  1653,  and  this  translation  first  appeared 
with  sixteen  stanzas  in  Hymns  and  Sacred 
Poems,  1739.  It  is  likely  that  this  lyrical 
song  better  than  anything  else  represents  the 
prevailing  attitude  of  John  Wesley's  mind 
during  most  of  his  ministry.  W^ithout  ever 
being  positively  mystical,  he  yet  was  moved 
and  swayed  by  a  constant  reference  to  God's 
providence  as  inseparable  from  his  grace.  He 
honestly  believed  that  after  the  good  Lord 
converted  him  he  was  going  to  take  care  of 
him.  He  relied  upon  him  with  love  and  per- 
fect trust.  A  little  incident  is  found  in  his 
biography  showing  his  simplicity  of  reasoning 
when  he  came  into  circumstances  of  genuine 
need. 

On  the  last  Sunday  in  the  year  1 788,  when 
he  was  eighty-five  years  of  age,  he  had  to 
preach  in  All-Hallows  Church,  Lombard 
Street,    for  the   benefit    of   forty-eight  poor 


children  belonging  to  the  St.  Ethelburga  So- 
ciety. There  was  an  immense  congregation 
gathered  to  hear  him.  While  putting  on  his 
gown  Wesley  said  to  his  attendant :  "  Sir,  it 
is  above  fifty  years  since  I  first  preached  in 
this  church  ;  I  remember  it  from  a  particular 
circumstance.  I  came  without  a  sermon ; 
and  going  up  the  pulpit  stairs  I  hesitated,  and 
returned  into  the  vestry,  under  much  mental 
confusion  and  agitation.  A  woman  who  stood 
by  noticed  my  concern  and  said,  '  Pray,  sir, 
what  is  the  matter.''  I  replied,  'I  have  not 
brought  a  sermon  with  me.'  Putting  her 
hand  on  my  shoulder  she  said,  '  Is  that  all  "> 
Cannot  you  trust  God  for  a  sermon .'''  This 
question  had  such  an  effect  upon  me  that  I 
ascended  the  pulpit,  preached  extempore  with 
great  freedom  to  myself  and  acceptance  to 
the  people,  and  have  never  since  taken  a 
written  sermon  into  the  pulpit." 

801  The  good  Shepherd.  L.  M.  6L 

The  Lord  my  pasture  shall  prepare, 
And  feed  me  with  a  shepherd's  care ; 
His  presence  shall  my  wants  supply. 
And  guard  me  with  a  watchful  eye : 
My  noon-day  walks  he  shall  attend. 
And  all  my  midnight  hours  defend. 

2  When  in  the  sultry  glebe  I  faint. 
Or  on  the  thirsty  mountain  pant, 
To  fertile  vales  and  dewy  meads 
My  weary,  wandering  steps  he  leads, 
Where  peaceful  rivers,  soft  and  slow, 
Amid  the  verdant  landscape  flow. 

3  Though  in  a  bare  and  rugged  way. 
Through  devious,  lonely  wilds  I  stray, 
Thy  bounty  shall  my  pains  beguile. 
The  barren  wilderness  shall  smile, 

With  sudden  greens  and  herbage  crowned, 
And  streams  shall  murmur  all  around. 

4  Though  in  the  paths  of  death  I  tread, 
With  gloomy  horrors  overspread. 

My  steadfast  heart  shall  fear  no  ill. 
For  thou,  O  Lord,  art  with  me  still : 
Thy  friendly  crook  shall  give  me  aid. 
And  guide  me  through  the  dreadful  shade. 

This  was  the  first  of  those  five  hymns  which 
Joseph  Addison  contributed  to  the  Spectator; 
it  is  found  in  No.  441,  17 12.  The  theme  of 
the  article  with  which  it  is  connected  is, 
"  Trust  in  the  Supreme  Being."  At  the  close 
of  this  the  author  says :  "  David  has  very 
beautifully  represented  this  steady  reliance  on 
God  Almighty  in  Psalm  23,  which  is  a  kind 
of  pastoraJ  hymn,  and  filled  with  those  allu- 
sions which  are  usual  in  that  kind  of  writing. 
As  the  poetry  is  ver\-  exquisite,  I  shall  present 
my  reader  with  the  following  translation  of  it." 

302  "Jesus,  my  Lord."  L.  M.  61. 

Jesus,  my  Lord,  my  God,  my  all ! 
Blest  Saviour,  hear  me  when  I  call ; 
Oh,  hear,  and  from  thy  dwelling-place 
Pour  down  the  riches  of  thy  grace: 
Jesus,  my  Lord,  I  thee  adore — 
Oh,  make  me  love  thee  more  and  more ! 


LOVE   AND   COMMUNION    WITH    CHRIST. 


34r 


2  Jesus,  alas  !  too  coldly  sought, 
How  can  I  love  thee  as  I  ought  ? 
And  how  extol  thy  matchless  fame, 
The  glorious  beauty  of  thy  name? 
Jesus,  my  Lord,  I  thee  adore — 

Oh,  make  me  love  thee  more  and  more  ! 

3  Jesus  !  of  thee  shall  be  my  song; 
To  thee  my  heart  and  soul  belong; 
All  that  I  am  or  have  is  thine. 

And  thou,  my  Saviour,  thou  art  mine  ! 

Jesus,  my  Lord,  I  thee  adore — 

Oh,  make  me  love  thee  more  and  more  ! 

It  was  while  still  an  adherent  of  the  Church 
of  England  that  Rev.  Henry  Collins  wrote 
this  hymn,  and  the  one  beginning,  "  Jesu,  meek 
and  lowly."  He  was  educated  at  Oxford  Col- 
lege, graduating  about  1854,  and  was  ordained 
deacon  and  priest  of  the  Episcopal  Church. 
About  1857,  however,  his  views  having 
changed,  he  became  a  Roman  Catholic,  and 
was  admitted  to  the  Cistercian  Order  in  1 860. 
He  wrote  a  pamphlet  defending  his  course, 
and  later  on  published  several  other  prose 
works.  His  two  poems  appeared  in  Hymns 
for  Missi07ts,  1854,  which  was  first  published 
at  Leeds,  and  afterwards  at  Oxford  and  Lon- 
don. 

803  " I  love  thee,  Lord  r  L.  M.  D. 

Though  sorrows  rise  and  dangers  roll 
In  waves  of  darkness  o'er  my  soul ; 
Though  friends  are  false,  and  love  decays. 
And  few  and  evil  are  my  days; 
Though  conscience,  fiercest  of  my  foes. 
Swells  with  remembered  guilt  my  woes ; 
Vet  ev'n  in  nature's  utmost  ill, 

1  love  thee.  Lord,  I  love  thee  still  I 

2  Though  Sinai's  curse,  in  thunder  dread. 
Peals  o'er  mine  unprotected  head. 

And  memon,-  points,  with  busy  pain. 
To  grace  and  mercy  given  in  vain  ; 
Till  nature,  shrinking  in  the  strife. 
Would  fly  to  hell  to  'scape  from  life ; 
Though  every  thought  has  power  to  kill, 
I  love  thee.  Lord,  I  love  thee  still ! 

3  Oh,  by  the  pangs  thyself  hast  borne. 
The  ruffian's  Blow,  the  tyrant's  scorn. 
By  Sinai's  curse,  whose  dreadful  doom 
VVas  buried  in  thy  guiltless  tomb ; 

By  these  my  pangs,  whose  healing  smart. 
Thy  grace  hath  planted  in  my  heart — 
I  know,  I  feel  thy  bounteous  will. 
Thou  lov'st  me.  Lord,  thou  lov'st  me  still  1 

This  will  be  found  in  Bishop  Reginald  He- 
ber's  Hymns  ivritten  and  adapted  to  the 
Weekly  Church  Service  of  the  Year :  1827. 
It  is  associated  with  St.  James'  Day.  The 
theme  of  the  piece  is  this :  the  conscientious 
believer  admits  his  own  shortcomings,  but  he 
knows  that  Jesus  knows  that  he  loves  him : 
"  thou  knowest  all  things,  and  thou  knowest 
that  I  love  thee  !"  There  is  given  in  the  biog- 
raphy of  Caroline  Fry  an  interesting  and 
most  instructive  incident.  While  one  time 
very  ill,  she  was  told  that  she  was  likely  now 
to  die  ;  at  the  best  her  hours  were  to  be  very 
few.     She  replied  instantly  and  with  fervor 


that  she  hoped  she  might  die  soon  and  sud- 
denly. Afterwards  she  learned  that  this  an- 
swer had  struck  some  listeners  with  surprise. 
So  she  wrote  thus  :  "  As  many  will  hear,  and 
will  not  understand  why  I  want  no  time  of 
preparation,  often  desired  by  those  far  holier 
than  I,  I  will  tell  you  why,  and  shall  tell  others, 
and  so  shall  you.  It  is  not  because  I  am  so 
holy,  but  because  I  am  so  sinful.  The  peculiar 
character  of  my  religious  experience  has  al- 
ways been  a  deep,  an  agonizing  sense  of  sin ; 
the  sin  of  yesterday,  of  to-day,  confessed  with 
anguish  hard  to  be  endured  and  cries  for  par- 
don that  could  not  be  unheard,  each  day 
cleansed  anew  in  Jesus'  blood,  and  each  day 
more  and  more  hateful  in  mine  own  sight. 
What  can  I  do  in  death  that  I  have  not  done 
in  life  ?  What  can  I  do  during  this  week, 
when  I  am  told  I  cannot  live,  other  than  I  did 
last  week  when  I  knew  it  not .''  Alas,  there  is 
but  one  thing  left  undone — to  serve  him  bet- 
ter ;  and  the  death-bed  is  no  place  for  that : 
therefore  I  say,  if  I  am  not  ready  now,  I  shall 
not  be  by  delay,  so  far  as  I  have  to  do  with 
it :  if  the  Lord  has  more  to  do  in  me,  that  is 
his  part ;  1  need  not  beseech  him  not  to  spoil 
his  work  by  too  much  haste."  A  few  days 
later,  just  before  she  did  die,  she  added  further 
this  sentence :  "  I  wish  there  should  be  no 
mistake  about  the  reason  of  my  desire  to  de- 
part and  be  with  Christ :  I  confess  myself  the 
vilest,  chiefest  of  sinners :  I  desire  to  go  to 
him  that  I  may  be  rid  of  the  burden  of  my 
sin,  the  sin  of  my  nature ;  not  the  past,  re- 
pented of  every  day,  but  the  present  hourly, 
momentary'  sin,  which  I  do  commit  or  which 
I  can  commit,  the  very  sense  of  which  does  at 
times  drive  me  almost  half  mad  with  grief." 


804 


The  name  "Jesus." 


L.  M.  D. 


Jesus! — the  ver\-  thought  is  sweet ; 
In  that  dear  name  all  heart-joys  meet ; 
But  sweeter  than  sweet  honey  far 
The  glimpses  of  his  presence  are. 
No  word  IS  sung  more  sweet  than  this  : 
No  name  is  heard  more  full  of  bliss  : 
No  thought  brings  sweeter  comfort  nigh. 
Than  Jesus,  Son  of  God  most  high. 

2  Jesus,  the  hope  of  souls  forlorn, 
How  good  to  them  for  sin  that  mourn  I 
To  them  that  seek  thee,  oh,  how  kind  ! 
But  what  art  thou  to  them  that  find  ? 
Jesus,  thou  sweetness,  pure,  and  blest, 
Truth's  fountain,  light  of  souls  distressed. 
Surpassing  all  that  heart  requires. 
Exceeding  all  that  soul  desires! 

3  No  tongue  of  mortal  can  express. 
No  letters  write,  its  blessedness : 
Alone  who  hath  thee  in  his  heart 
Knows,  love  of  Jesus,  what  thou  art. 
We  followjesus  now,  and  raise 

The  voice  of  prayer,  the  hymn  of  praise, 
That  he  at  last  may  make  us  meet 
With  him  to  gain  the  heavenly  seat. 


348 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


For  the  Hymnal  Noted,  1854,  Dr.  John 
Mason  Neale  made  this  translation  of  St. 
Bernard's  great  hymn,  "/esu,(iulcis  memorm." 
It  differs  in  the  meter,  and  is  valuable  on  that 
account. 


805 


"  Ashamed  of  me." 


L.  M. 


Jesus!  and  shall  it  ever  be, 
A  mortal  man  ashamed  of  thee  ? 
Ashamed  of  thee,  whom  angels  praise, 
Whose  glories  shine  through  endless  days? 

2  Ashamed  of  Jesus  !  sooner  far 
Let  evening  blush  to  own  a  star  ; 
He  sheds  the  beams  of  light  divine 
O'er  this  benighted  soul  of  mine. 

3  Ashamed  of  Jesus!  that  dear  friend 
On  whom  my  hopes  of  heaven  depend  ! 
No;  when  I  blush,  be  this  my  shame. 
That  I  no  more  revere  his  name. 

4  Ashamed  of  Jesus  !   yes,  I  may. 
When  I  've  no  guilt  to  wash  away; 
No  tear  to  wipe,  no  good  to  crave. 
No  fears  to  quell,  no  soul  to  save. 

5  Till  then— nor  is  my  boasting  vain— 
Till  then,  I  boast  a  Saviour  slain  ! 
And,  oh,  mav  this  my  glory  be. 
That  Christ  is  not  ashamed  of  me ! 

This  piece  of  poetry,  now  so  widely  known, 
was  first  printed  in  the  Gospel  Magazine,  in 
the  year  1 774 ;  and  the  title  of  it  was : 
"  Shame  of  Jesus  Conquered  by  Love.  By  a 
Youth  of  Ten  Years."  In  that  edition  some 
declare  that  the  second  line  was  this :  "  A 
sinful  child  ashamed  of  thee."  The  young 
writer,  whose  offering  to  God's  people  proved 
so  acceptable,  became  afterward  the  Rev. 
Joseph  Grigg,  a  Presbyterian  minister  in 
London. 


806 


Jesus  all  in  all. 


L.  M. 


Jesus,  thou  Joy  of  loving  hearts. 

Thou  Fount  of  life  !  thou  Light  of  men! 

From  the  best  bliss  that  earth  imparts 
We  turn  unfilled  to  thee  again. 

2  Thy  truth  unchanged  hath  ever  stood ; 
Thou  savest  those  that  on  thee  call ; 

To  them  that  seek  thee  thou  art  good. 
To  them  that  find  thee,  All  in  All. 

3  We  taste  thee,  O  thou  Living  Bread, 
And  long  to  feast  upon  thee  still ; 

We  drink  of  thee,  the  Fountain  Head, 
And  thirst  our  souls  from  thee  to  fill  ! 

4  Our  restless  spirits  yearn  for  thee. 
Where'er  our  changeful  lot  is  cast : 

Glad,  when  thy  gracious  smile  we  see. 
Blest,  when  our  faith  can  hold  thee  fast. 

5  O  Jesus,  ever  with  us  stay ; 

Make  all  our  moments  calm  and  bright ; 
Chase  the  dark  night  of  sin  away. 
Shed  o'er  the  world  thy  holy  light ! 

It  would  seem  as  if  among  all  the  transla- 
tions of  the  great  hymn  of  St.  Bernard  of 
Clairvaux,  even  Dr.  Ray  Palmer  might  feel 
some  small  discouragement  in  proposing  a 
new  one.     But  he  wrote  this  splendid  piece 


of  poetry  in  Albany,  N.  Y.,  in  1858,  for  the 
Sabbath  Hymn-Book,  and  the  world  has  pro- 
nounced it  to  be  in  some  particulars  the  best 
and  the  chief  of  them  all.  "/esii,  diclcis  me- 
morm "  has  found  its  fitting  dress  in  our 
English  tongue  at  last.  Once  in  the  course 
of  his  history  the  apostle  Paul  found  it  neces- 
sary to  challenge  and  censure  the  Christians 
dwelling  in  the  chief  city  of  Macedonia. 
There  were  differences  in  the  congregation, 
and  the  excitement  was  approaching  the  crisis 
of  a  quarrel  outright.  No  one  can  fail  to  no- 
tice the  exceedingly  lowly  and  affectionate 
manner  which  this  great  and  good  man 
adopts  in  approaching  these  insurrectionary 
people.  Most  men  would  have  lost  head 
under  such  reverent  obedience  as  that  church 
at  Philippi  was  accustomed  to  give  Paul. 
He  might  have  ordered  them,  but  he  now  en- 
treats. He  had  an  undoubted  chance  to 
command,  but  he  only  implores.  "  Brethren, 
be  followers  together  of  me,  and  mark  them 
which  walk  so  as  ye  have  us  for  an  en- 
sample." 


807 


"Not  your  own. 


L.  M. 


Oh,  not  my  own  these  verdant  hills, 
And  fruits,  and  flowers,  and  stream,  and  wood ; 

But  his  who  all  with  glory  fills, 
Who  bought  me  with  his  precious  blood. 

2  Oh,  not  my  own  this  wondrous  frame, 
Its  curious  work,  its  living  soul ; 

But  his  who  for  my  ransom  came ; 
Slain  for  my  sake,  he  claims  the  whole. 

3  Oh,  not  my  own  the  grace  that  keeps 
My  feet  from  fierce  temptations  free ; 

Oh,  not  my  own  the  thought  that  leaps, 
Adoring,  blessed  Lord,  to  thee. 

4  Oh,  not  my  own  ;  I  '11  soar  and  sing. 
When  life,  with  all  its  toils,  is  o'er, 

And  thou  thy  trembling  lamb  shalt  bring 
Safe  home  to  wander  nevermore. 

Another  of  the  fine  contributions  of  the 
Rev.  Samuel  Francis  Smith,  D.  D.,  to  the 
Congregational  Hymn-Book,  1857.  He  is 
said  to  have  written  above  a  hundred  hymns, 
twenty-seven  of  which  were  given  to  the 
churches  in  the  Psalmist,  many  of  which  have 
been  welcomed  in  others  outside  of  the  de- 
nomination with  which  he  has  always  been 
connected.  No  incident  is  mentioned  as  hav- 
ing given  rise  to  this  composition,  but  it  was 
evidently  suggested  by  the  inspired  question : 
"  Know  ye  not  that  ye  are  not  your  own .''" 
(I.  Cor.  6 :  19.)  Dr.  Smith  has  issued  a  num- 
ber of  volumes,  mostly  written  in  the  interest 
of  Baptist  missions  and  work.  He  was,  in 
1853,  honored  with  the  degree  of  Doctor  of 
Divinity  by  Colby  University,  then  known  as 
Waterville  College. 


GRACES  OF  THE  SPIRIT. 


349 


808  Faith.  C.  M. 

Lord,  I  believe  ;  thv  power  I  own  ; 
Thy  word  I  would  obey  ; 

1  wander  comfortless  and  lone, 
When  from  thy  truth  I  stray. 

2  Lord,  I  believe ;  but  gloomy  fears 
Sometimes  bedim  my  sight ; 

I  look  to  thee  with  prayers  and  tears. 
And  cry  for  strength  and  light. 

3  Lord,  I  believe;  but  oft,  I  know, 
My  faith  is  cold  and  weak  : 

My  weakness  strengthen,  and  bestow 
The  confidence  I  seek. 

4  Yes !  I  believe ;  and  only  thou 
Canst  give  my  soul  relief: 

Lord,  to  thy  truth  my  spirit  bow ; 
"  Help  thou  mine  unbelief!" 

The  author  of  the  piece  before  us  was  Rev. 
John  Reynell  Wreford,  D.  D.  He  was  born 
at  Barnstable.  Devonshire,  England,  Decem- 
ber 1 2, 1 8oo,  and  received  his  education  at  Man- 
chester College,  York.  In  1 826  he  became  as- 
sociated with  Rev.  John  Kentish,  as  co-pastor 
of  the  New  Meeting  House  congregation, 
Birmingham.  He  labored  here  for  five  years, 
but  the  loss  of  his  voice  compelled  his  retire- 
ment from  ministerial  duties  in  1831,  and  he 
opened  a  school  at  Edgbaston.  At  the  time 
of  Queen  Victoria's  accession  to  the  British 
throne.  Dr.  Wreford  published  his  Lays  of 
Loyalty,  1837.  The  piece  quoted  here  is  to 
be  found  in  Rev.  J.  R.  Beard's  Collection  of 
Hymns  for  Public  and  Private  Worship, 
which  was  issued  in  the  same  year.  Al- 
though the  compiler  of  the  latter  volume 
claimed  that  his  book  contained  only  poems 
by  Unitarian  writers,  it  is  evident  that  Dr. 
Wreford  was  not  a  Unitarian  in  the  modern 
sense,  though  he  said  of  himself  he  was  one 
of  those  "  English  Presbyterians  who  always 
carefully  repudiated  all  sectarian  names  and 
doctrinal  distinctions."     He  died   at  Bristol 


809  Meekness.  C.  M. 

Lord!  when  I  all  things  would  possess, 

I  crave  but  to  be  thine  ; 
Oh,  lowly  is  the  loftiness  - 

Of  these  desires  divine. 

2  Each  gift  but  helps  my  soul  to  learn 
How  boundless  is  thy  store  ; 

I  go  from  strength  to  strength,  and  yearn 
For  thee,  my  Helper,  more. 

3  How  can  my  soul  divinely  soar. 
How  keep  the  shining  way. 

And  not  more  tremblingly  adore. 
And  not  more  humbly  pray  ! 

4  The  more  I  triumph  in  thy  gifts. 
The  more  I  wait  on  thee; 

The  grace  that  might  ilv  uplifts 
Most  sweetly  humble'th  me. 

5  The  heaven  where  I  would  stand  complete 
My  lowly  love  shall  see, 

And  stronger  grow  the  yearning  sweet. 
My  holy  One !  for  thee. 


When  Thomas  Hornblower  Gill  learned  to 
"  go  from  strength  to  strength  "  by  yearning 
more  for  Christ  as  his  "  Helper,"  he  ceased 
to  be  a  Unitarian.  He  says :  "  The  assidu- 
ous perusal  of  the  Greek  Testament,  for 
many  years,  showed  me  clearly  that  Unitari- 
anism  failed  to  interpret  the  Book  of  Life. 
As  truth  after  truth  broke  upon  my  gaze,  God 
put  a  new  song  into  my  mouth."  From  this 
day  forward  he  believed  and  lived  and  sang 
his  songs  in  the  acceptance  of  the  old  Calvin- 
istic  doctrine  of  substitution.  His  sins  were 
laid  on  the  Saviour,  and  Christ's  righteous- 
ness was  imputed  to  him.  He  says  in  issuing 
(1869)  The  Golden  Chain  of  Praise,  from 
which  our  present  piece  is  quoted :  "  The 
spiritual  experience  of  more  than  twenty 
years  is  recorded  in  these  sacred  songs. 
Though  spread  over  so  long  a  period,  they  are 
now  given  to  the  world  for  the  first  time,  with 
the  exception  of  about  thirty  which  have  ap- 
peared partly  in  collections,  and  partly  among 
The  Anniversaries  (poems  published  ten 
years  ago)." 

8 1 0  Calmness.  C.  M. 

Calm  me,  my  God,  and  keep  me  calm  ; 

Let  thine  outstretched  wing 
Be  like  the  shade  of  Elim's  palm. 

Beside  her  desert  spring. 

2  Yes,  keep  me  calm,  though  loud  and  rude 
The  sounds  my  ear  that  greet — 

Calm  in  the  closet's  solitude, 
Calm  in  the  bustling  street. 

3  Calm  in  the  hour  of  buoyant  health. 
Calm  in  my  hour  of  pain, 

Calm  in  my  poverty  or  wealth. 
Calm  in  my  loss  or  gain — 

4  Calm  in  the  sufferance  of  wrong. 
Like  him  who  bore  my  shame. 

Calm  'mid  the  threatening,  taunting  throng. 
Who  hate  thy  holy  name. 

5  Calm  me,  my  God,  and  keep  me  calm, 
Soft  resting  on  thy  breast ; 

Soothe  me  with  holy  hymn  and  psalm. 
And  bid  my  spirit  rest. 

This  poem  is  perhaps  the  most  popular  of 
all  those  written  by  Dr.  Horatius  Bonar.  It 
appeared  first  in  his  Hymns  of  Faith  and 
Hope,  1856,  in  eight  stanzas  of  four  lines  each, 
entitled  "  The  Inner  Calm."  It  is  filled  with 
the  very  spirit  of  tranquillity  which  is  really 
the  result  of  an  absolute  faith. 

The  celebrated  Robert  Hall  said:  "The 
most  extraordinary  thing  about  Wesley  was 
that  while  he  set  all  in  motion,  he  was  him- 
self perfectly  calm  and  phlegmatic.  He  was 
the  quiescence  of  turbulence."  Wesley  was 
not  "  phlegmatic."  He  had  a  warm  heart,  an 
active  spirit.  He  said,  "  I  am  always  in 
haste,  though  never  in  a  hurry."  He  one 
day  remarked  to  Clarke,  "  As  I  was  passing 


35° 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


through  St.  Paul's  churchyard  I  observed  two 
women  standing  opposite  to  each  other,  the 
one  speaicing  and  gesticulating  violently,  while 
the  other  stood  perfectly  still  and  in  silence. 
Just  as  I  came  up  and  was  about  to  pass 
them,  the  virago,  clenching  her  fist  and  stamp- 
ing her  foot  at  her  imperturbable  neighbor,  ex- 
claimed, '  Speak,  wretch,  that  I  may  have 
something  to  say  !'  Adam,  that  was  a  lesson 
to  me.  Silence  is  often  the  best  answer  to 
abuse." 


81 


FaUh. 


CM. 


Oh,  gift  of  gifts!  oh,  grace  of  faith  ! 

My  God !  how  can  it  be 
That  thou,  who  hast  discerning  love, 

Shouldst  give  that  gift  to  me  ? 

2  How  many  hearts  thou  mightst  have  had 
More  innocent  than  mine ! 

How  many  souls  more  worthy  far 
Of  that  sweet  touch  of  thine ! 

3  Ah,  grace!  into  unlikeliest  hearts 
It  is  thy  boast  to  come. 

The  glory  of  thy  light  to  find 
In  darkest  spots  a  home. 

4  The  crowd  of  cares,  the  weightiest  cross, 
Seem  trifles  less  than  light — 

Earth  looks  so  little  and  so  low 
When  faith  shines  full  and  bright. 

5  Oh,  happy,  happy  that  I  am  ! 
If  thou  canst  be,  O  Faith, 

The  treasure  that  thou  art  in  life, 
What  wilt  thou  be  in  death  ! 

The  poem  from  which  this  group  of  verses 
is  taken  consists  of  twelve  stanzas,  and  is 
found  in  Rev.  Frederick  William  Faber's 
Hymns,  commencing,  "  O  Faith  !  thou  work- 
est  miracles."  It  first  appeared  in  \i\s  Jestis 
and  Mary,  1849,  ^nd  was  entitled  "Conver- 
sion." Saving  faith  is  not  a  mere  cerebra- 
tion of  the  individual ;  it  is  the  gift  of  God. 
It  often  "  comes  "  into  "  unlikeliest  hearts." 
It  frequently  finds  "  in  darkest  spots  a  home." 
So  it  always  is  accompanied  with  a  welcome 
and  happy  humility.  Faith  includes  this.  It 
calls  for  a  cheerful  submission  to  God's  re- 
quirements, the  moment  we  apprehend  them, 
no  matter  how  humiliating  the  assertion  of 
our  ill-desert  may  be.  When  the  Syrophce- 
nician  woman  came  pleading  to  our  Saviour, 
he  gave  her  faith  a  most  severe  testing  before 
he  granted  her  petition.  "  It  is  not  meet,"  he 
said,  "  to  take  the  children's  bread  and  cast  it 
to  the  dogs."  Now,  did  she  grow  angry  at 
this  rebuff  }  Did  she  refuse  to  admit  its  jus- 
tice ?  Did  she  go  away  grieved,  because  he 
seemed  to  be  harsh  to  her  ?  No,  indeed  ;  she 
admitted  it  all.  "  Truth,  Lord,"  said  she, 
"  yet  the  dogs  eat  of  the  crumbs  that  fall  from 
their  master's  table."  Then  he  raised  her 
up,  saying,  "  O  woman,  great  is  thy  faith  ;  be 
it  unto  thee  as  thou  wilt."  She  not  only  saw 
the  truth,  but  assented  to  it  likewise,  though 


the  admission  was  humbling  in  the  extreme. 
And  so  must  the  inquiring  sinner  give  assent 
to  all  the  teachings  of  the  gospel,  self-abasing 
as  they  are  ;  admit  everything  ;  throw  up  all 
excuses ;  leave  all  refuges  of  lies  ;  renounce 
self  altogether  ;  "  only  believe." 

8  I  2  Godly  sincerity.  C.  M. 

Walk  in  the  light !  so  shalt  thou  know 

That  fellowship  of  love 
His  Spirit  only  can  bestow 

Who  reigns  in  light  above. 

2  Walk  in  the  light !  and  thou  shalt  find 
Thy  heart  made  truly  his 

Who  dwells  in  cloudless  light  enshrined. 
In  whom  no  darkness  is. 

3  Walk  in  the  light !  and  ev'n  the  tomb 
No  fearful  shade  shall  wear ; 

Glory  shall  chase  away  its  gloom, 
For  Christ  hath  conquered  there. 

4  Walk  in  the  light !  and  thou  shalt  see 
Thy  path,  though  thorny,  bright, 

For  God  by  grace  shall  dwell  in  thee, 
And  God  himself  is  light. 

The  "  Quaker  poet,"  Bernard  Barton,  filled 
many  volumes  with  his  writings  in  verse  ;  but 
only  about  twenty  of  his  pieces  are  in  com- 
mon use  now.  His  poetry  attracted  the  notice 
of  two  such  opposite  characters  as  Robert 
Southey  and  Lord  Byron ;  and  although  he 
was  only  a  bank  clerk,  he  became  a  warm 
friend  of  the  latter.  He  was  born  in  London, 
England,  January  31,  1784,  and  received  his 
education  at  a  Quaker  School  at  Ipswich.  His 
business  life  was  begun  when  he  was  articled 
to  a  shopkeeper  at  Halstead,  Essex,  with 
whom  he  remained  for  eight  years.  He  then 
tried  various  other  kinds  of  work,  but  finally 
was  employed  in  the  local  bank  at  Wood- 
bridge,  serving  a  clerkship  of  forty  years.  As 
his  parents  were  Quakers,  he  naturally  ac- 
cepted the  religious  opinions  of  the  Society 
of  Friends,  and  held  closely  to  these  views 
throughout  his  life.  He  died  at  Woodbridge, 
February  19,  1849.  The  piece  we  quote  is 
from  Lyra  Britannica,  and  in  the  original 
has  six  stanzas. 

8 1  3  Faith.  C.  M. 

Faith  adds  new  charms  to  earthly  bliss 

And  saves  me  from  its  snares ; 
Its  aid,  in  every  duty,  brings. 

And  softens  all  my  cares. 

2  The  wounded  conscience  knows  its  power 
The  healing  balm  to  give ; 

That  balm  the  saddest  heart  can  cheer. 
And  make  the  dying  live. 

3  Wide  it  unvails  celestial  worlds. 
Where  deathless  pleasures  reign ; 

And  bids  me  seek  my  portion  there, 
Nor  bids  me  seek  m  vain. 

4  It  shows  the  precious  promise  sealed 
With  the  Redeemer's  blood  ; 

And  helps  my  feeble  hope  to  rest 
Upon  a  faithful  God. 


GRACES   OF  THE   SPIRIT. 


351 


5  There — there  unshaken  would  I  rest, 

Till  this  frail  body  dies ; 
And  then,  on  faith's  triumphant  wings. 

To  endless  glory  rise. 

Rev.  Daniel  Turner,  the  author  of  this  hymn, 
was  born  at  Blackwater  Park,  near  St.  Albans, 
Herts,  England,  March  i,  17 10.  When  quite 
young,  he  united  with  the  Baptist  Church, 
close  by  his  home,  at  Hemel-Hempstead.  He 
took  up  the  occupation  of  teaching  at  first, 
but  in  1 741  became  the  pastor  of  the  Hosier 
Lane  Baptist  congregation  at  Reading  on  the 
Thames.  In  1748  he  took  another  charge  at 
Abingdon  in  Berkshire.  This  he  held  until 
his  death,  September  5,  1798.  He  published 
a  volume  entitled,  Divine  Songs,  Hymns  and 
Poems,  1747,  and  a  second.  Poems,  Devotional 
and  Moral,  1 794.  Of  these  compositions  Dr. 
Rippon  accepted  eight  in  his  book.  The  one 
before  us  was  printed  first  in  Evans'  Collec- 
tion, fifth  edition,  1786.  It  is  a  cool  and  quiet 
piece,  didactically  correct,  and  useful  to  close 
a  doctrinal  sermon  on  the  nature  and  office 
of  saving  faith.  The  one  element  of  trust  is 
specially  magnified — reliance  on  the  truth  of 
what  God  said  he  would  do ;  a  quiet  resting 
on  his  promises  to  accomplish  all  we  need  for 
salvation.  You  remember  in  the  case  of  the 
centurion,  our  Lord  declared  he  "  had  not 
found  so  great  faith,  no,  not  in  Israel."  Now, 
what  was  it  that  made  his  faith  in  particular 
so  great,  so  peculiar  in  itself,  and  so  superior 
in  the  estimation  of  the  Saviour  ?  Simply  the 
presence  in  it  of  superabounding  trust.  He 
had  asked  for  a  gift  of  healing  to  be  bestowed 
upon  his  servant  lying  at  home  sick.  To  his 
request  Jesus  replied,  "  I  will  come  and  heal 
him."  One  would  think  that  now  the  cen- 
turion would  doubt  a  little.  Might  not  the 
Saviour  forget  his  promise  in  the  multiplicity 
of  his  cares  ?  Might  he  not  delay  coming  till 
too  late .''  Even  this  suspicion  made  his  trust 
a  matter  of  somewhat  difficult  exercise  ;  and 
yet  that  man  was  willing  to  go  further.  He 
was  content  to  rest  on  a  mere  declaration, 
without  a  promise.  "  Speak  the  word  only," 
said  he,  "and  my  servant  shall  be  healed." 
He  did  not  care  to  have  the  Saviour's  presence, 
if  he  would  only  say  the  man  should  be  whole. 
Then  he  could  depart  to  his  house  restful  and 
satisfied. 

814  "Watch  and  pray."  CM. 

The  SaviouR  bids  thee  watch  and  pray 

Through  life's  momentous  hour. 
And  grants  the  Spirit's  quickening  ray 

To  those  who  seek  his  power. 

2  The  Saviour  bids  thee  watch  and  pray, 

Maintain  a  warrior's  strife  : 
O  Christian  !  hear  his  voice  to-day : 

Obedience  is  thy  life. 


3  The  Saviour  bids  thee  watch  and  pray ; 
For  soon  the  hour  will  come 

That  calls  thee  from  the  earth  away 
To  thy  eternal  home. 

4  The  Saviour  bids  thee  watch  and  pray, 
Oh,  hearken  to  his  voice, 

And  follow  where  he  leads  the  way, 
To  heaven's  eternal  joys ! 

In  the  Mother's  Hymn  Book,  by  Dr. 
Thomas  Hastings,  published  in  1834,  this 
poem  first  appeared.  Its  refrain,  "  Watch 
and  Pray,"  is  a  call  to  increasing  vigilance 
against  the  foes  which  beset  our  Christian 
life  and  seek  to  take  advantage  of  a  moment's 
weakness.  A  military  commander,  after 
gaining  a  great  victory,  was  encamping  with 
his  army  for  the  night.  He  ordered  sentinels 
to  be  stationed  all  round  the  camp  as  usual. 
One  of  the  sentinels,  as  he  went  to  his  station, 
grumbled  to  himself  and  said,  "  Why  could 
not  the  general  let  us  have  a  quiet  night's 
rest  for  once  after  beating  the  ene^y  }  I  'm 
sure  there  's  nothing  to  be  afraid  of."  The 
man  then  went  to  his  station  and  stood  for 
some  time  looking  about  him.  It  was  a 
bright  summer's  night  with  a  harvest  moon, 
but  he  could  see  nothing  anywhere ;  so  he 
said,  "  I  am  terribly  tired.  I  shall  sleep  for 
just  five  minutes,  out  of  the  moonlight,  un- 
der the  shadow  of  this  tree."  So  he  lay 
down.  Presently  he  started  up,  dreaming 
that  some  one  had  pushed  a  lantern  before 
his  eyes,  and  he  found  that  the  moon  was 
shining  brightly  down  on  him  through  a  hole 
in  the  branches  of  the  tree  above  him.  The 
next  minute  an  arrow  whizzed  past  his  ear 
and  the  whole  field  before  him  seemed  alive 
with  soldiers  in  dark  green  coats,  who  sprang 
up  from  the  ground,  where  they  had  been 
silently  creeping  onward,  and  rushed  toward 
him.  Fortunately  the  arrow  had  missed  him ; 
so  he  shouted  aloud  to  give  the  alarm  and 
ran  back  to  some  other  sentinels.  The  army 
was  thus  saved ;  and  the  soldier  said,  "  I 
shall  never  forget,  as  long  as  I  live,  that  when 
one  is  at  war  one  must  watch."  Our  whole 
life  is  a  war  with  evil.  Just  after  we  have 
conquered  it  it  sometimes  attacks  us  when  we 
least  expect  it.  For  example,  when  we  have 
resisted  the  temptation  to  be  cross  and  pet- 
tish or  disobedient,  sometimes  when  we  are 
thinking,  "  How  good  we  have  been,"  comes 
another  sudden  temptation,  and  we  are  not 
on  our  guard  and  do  not  resist  it.  Jesus  says 
to  us,  "  Watch  and  pray,  that  ye  «nter  not 
into  temptation." 

815  "  The  Head,  even  Christ."  C.  M. 

Blest  be  the  dear,  uniting  love 

That  will  not  let  us  part : 
Our  bodies  may  far  off  remove ; 

We  still  are  one  in  heart. 


352 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


2  Joined  in  one  spirit  to  our  Head, 
Where  he  appoints  Vve  go  ; 

We  still  in  Jesus'  footsteps  tread, 
And  show  his  praise  below. 

3  Oh,  may  we  ever  walk  in  him, 
And  nothing  know  beside! 

Nothing  desire,  nothing  esteem, 
But  Jesus  crucified  ! 

4  Partakers  of  the  Saviour's  grace, 
The  same  in  mind  and  heart, 

Not  joy  nor  grief  nor  time  nor  place 
Nor  life  nor  death  can  part. 

In  this  piece  of  Rev.  Charles  Wesley,  found 
as  usual  in  his  Hymns  and  Sacred  Poems, 
1742,  there  is  held  up  to  our  view  the  secret 
of  all  force  in  Christian  character  and  life. 
It  is  found  in  one's  being  like  Jesus,  his 
Master,  in  his  being  near  him,  walking  with 
him  all  the  time.  When  City  Road  Chapel 
was  built,  Charles  Wesley  preached  there. 
His  ministry  was  solemn  and  awakening,  yet 
full  of  tenderness  for  the  mourners.  "  In 
prayer  he  was  copious  and  mighty,  especially 
on  sacramental  occasions,  when  he  seemed 
to  enter  into  the  holiest  of  all  by  the  blood 
of  Jesus."  If  his  thoughts  did  not  flow 
freely,  he  was  very  deliberate  in  the  pulpit, 
making  long  pauses,  as  though  waiting  for 
the  Spirit's  influence.  "  In  such  cases  he 
usually  preached  with  his  eyes  closed  ;  he 
fumbled  with  his  hands  about  his  breast, 
leaned  with  his  elbows  upon  the  Bible,  and 
his  whole  body  was  in  motion."  What  im- 
pression he  produced  on  strangers  may  be 
understood  from  William  Wilberforce's  ac- 
count of  his  first  interview  with  the  venerable 
poet,  at  the  house  of  Hannah  More.  He 
says  :  "  I  went,  in  1782,  to  see  her,  and  when  I 
came  into  the  room,  Charles  Wesley  rose 
from  the  table,  around  which  a  numerous 
company  sat  at  tea,  and  coming  forward  to 
me,  gave  me  solemnly  his  blessing.  I  was 
scarcely  ever  more  affected.  Such  was  the 
effect  of  his  manner  and  appearance  that  it 
altogether  overset  me,  and  I  burst  into  tears, 
unable  to  restrain  myself." 

Surely,  if  one  desires  the  "  mind  of  Christ," 
he  must  see  that  he  will  be  very  far  from  se- 
curing it  if  he  exercises  his  own  mind  in 
showing  how  unlike  him  other  people  are. 
"  Boasting  is  excluded."  We  do  not  know  a 
more  pathetic  spectacle  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment than  that  of  the  two  blind  men  at  the 
gate  of  Jericho — rivals  in  business,  recollect — 
making  (as  it  were)  common  cause  against 
the  uncharitable  multitude,  and  in  the  same 
sentence  of  speech  crying  for  mercy  from  the 
Son  of  David.  Matthew  Henry's  comment 
on  the  passage  is  very  bright.  "  These  joint 
sufferers,"  says  he,  "  were  joint  suitors.  Be- 
ing companions  in  the  same  tribulation,  they 


were  partners  in  the  same  supplication."  In 
every  honest  effort  God  gives  mysterious 
help.  What  is  wanted  on  our  part  is  de- 
cision winged  with  devotion.  Our  wills  sur- 
render ;  just  there  God  wills  for  us. 

"  He  who  hath  felt  the  Spirit  of  the  Highest 
Cannot  confound,  or  doubt  him,  or  defy  ; 
Yea,  with  one  voice,  O  world,  though  thou  deniest. 
Stand  thou  on  that  side — for  on  this  am  I !" 

8  1 6  Humility.  C.  M. 

Thy  home  is  with  the  humble,  Lord ! 

The  simple  are  the  best ; 
Thy  lodging  is  in  child-like  hearts  ; 

Thou  makest  there  thy  rest. 

2  Dear  Comforter !  eternal  Love  ! 
If  thou  wilt  stay  with  me. 

Of  lowly  thoughts  and  simple  ways 

1  '11  build  a  house  for  thee. 

3  Who  made  this  breathing  heart  of  mine 
But  thou,  my  heavenly  Guest? 

Let  no  one  have  it,  then,  but  thee. 
And  let  it  be  thy  rest ! 

In  Dr.  Frederick  William  Faber's  volume 
of  poems  entitled  y>j-«.y  and  Mary,  1849,  this 
hymn  was  first  published.  It  consists  of 
twelve  stanzas,  four  lines  each,  with  the  head- 
ing, "  Sweetness  in  Prayer."  The  verses 
here  used  are  in  praise  of  that  mild  and  gentle 
spirit  which  meets  the  perplexities  of  life  with 
steadfast  faith  in  an  overruling  providence. 
We  saw  the  usual  sign  out  in  front  of  a  cloth- 
ing store :  "  Great  sale  of  Misfits,"  and  we 
moralized  to  our  heart's  content  over  the 
catastrophe.  .  Most  men  are  too  finical ;  they 
reject  much  of  what  could  be  endured  with  a 
little  patience  and  some  humility.  "  Circum- 
stances make  men,"  said  one  of  the  would-be 
philosophers.  Not  always;  some  men  make 
circumstances.  More  men,  however,  accept 
circumstances  as  the  providences  of  God, 
and  adjust  themselves  to  meet  them  content- 
edly. It  is  in  this  way  that  most  moral  mis- 
fits can  be  managed  ;  and,  moreover,  there  is 
a  fine  outlook  ahead.  So  we  shall  find  that 
here  is  the  secret  of  all  composure  in  the  uni- 
verse. "  I  am  going,"  said  the  dying  Hooker, 
"  to  leave  a  world  disordered  and  a  Church 
disorganized,  for  a  world  and  a  Church  where 
every  angel  and  every  rank  of  angels  stand 
before  the  throne  in  the  very  post  God  has 
assigned." 

8  I  7  Docility.— Psalm  131.  C.  M. 

Is  there  ambition  in  mv  heart  ? 

Search,  gracious  God,  and  see ; 
Or  do  I  act  a  haughty  part? 

Lord,  I  appeal  to  thee. 

2  I  charge  my  thoughts,  be  humble  still, 
And  all  my  carriage  mild  ; 

Content,  my  Father,  with  thy  will, 
And  quiet  as  a  child. 


GRACES   OF   THE   SPIRIT, 


3  The  patient  soul,  the  lowly  mind, 

Shall  have  a  large  reward  ; 
Let  saints  iti  sorrow  lie  resigned. 

And  trust  a  faithful  Lord. 

This  small  poem,  delicate  and  graceful,  and 
always  dear  to  the  children  of  God,  is  the 
version  of  Dr;  Watts  which  represents  the 
sentiment  of  Psalm  131.  It  has  been  pre- 
served unchanged  through  the  ages.  It  is 
entitled  "  Humility  and  Submission,"  and  it 
frames  a  prayer  for  constant  growth  and 
genuineness  in  all  the  graces  of  the  Gospel. 
A  simple-hearted  farmer  visited  the  new 
capitol  at  Albany.  After  wandering  through 
the  halls  and  corridors,  and  seeing  a  great 
many  beautiful  things,  he  came  to  a  large 
column  of  Scotch  granite,  highly  polished. 
He  examined  it  closely,  knocked  it  with  his 
knuckle,  and  then  inquired,  "  What  is  that  ?" 
He  was  told  that  it  was  Scotch  granite;  to 
which  he  replied  :  "  You  do  n't  say  !  Is  that 
Scotch  granite.'  and  is  it  polished  like  that 
clean  through  ?"  That  would  be  a  pungent 
question  of  certain  ones  who  are  intellectually 
orthodox  and  ceremonially  pious.  To  be  a 
child  of  God  "  clean  through  "  is  something 
more  than  living  righteously  according  to 
programme,  or  religiously  by  rote.  "A  string 
of  opinions,"  said  John  Wesley,  "  no  more 
constitutes  faith  than  a  string  of  beads  con- 
stitutes holiness." 

8  1 8  Humble  Devotion.  C.  M. 

Father  !  whate'er  of  earthly  bliss 

Thy  sovereign  will  denies, 
Accepted  at  thy  throne  of  grace 

Let  this  petition  rise  : 

2  "  Give  me  a  calm,  a  thankful  heart, 
From  every  murmur  free; 

The  blessing.s  of  thy  grace  impart. 
And  make  me  live  to  thee. 

3  "  Let  the  sweet  hope  that  thou  art  mine 
My  life  and  death  attend ; 

Thy  presence  through  my  journey  shine. 
And  crown  my  journey's  end." 

Perhaps  the  secret  of  that  power  which  the 
poetry  of  Miss  Anne  Steele  has  always  pos- 
sessed over  the  -hearts  of  those  who  sing  her 
unassuming  hymns  is  found  in  the  spirit 
with  which  these  pieces  were  committed  to 
the  world.  Under  the  date  of  November  29, 
1757,  her  father,  as  deeply  interested  in  her 
enterprise  as  was  his  daughter  herself,  we  can 
readily  believe,  wrote  in  his  diary  these  words  : 
"  This  day  Nanny  sent  part  of  her  composi- 
tion to  London  to  be  printed.  I  entreat  a 
gracious  God,  who  enabled  and  stirred  her 
up  to  such  a  work,  to  direct  in  it  and  bless  it 
for  the  good  of  many.  I  pray  God  to  make 
her  useful  and  keep  her  humble."     This  hu- 


mility was  her  chief  characteristic ;  and  no 
other  hymn  of  hers  so  well  shows  and  ex- 
presses this  as  the  one  now  before  us.  In 
her  volume  of  Poems,  1760,  it  bears  the  title. 
"  Desiring  Resignation  and  Thankfulness." 
All  the  profits  accruing  from  the  sale  of  her 
poetry  were  a  trust  only  to  her :  she  conse- 
crated them  fully  to  benevolent  objects.  If 
there  be  any  inquiry  in  the  hearts  of  the  sing- 
ers of  this  hymn  concerning  the  answer  to 
the  prayer  with  which  it  closes,  it  is  enough 
to  quote  here  the  paragraph  from  her  biog- 
raphy that  describes  the  "journey's  end." 
Dr.  Evans  says :  "  She  took  the  most  affec- 
tionate leave  of  her  weeping  friends  around 
her;  and,  at  length,  the  happy  moment  of  her 
dismission  arriving,  she  closed  her  eyes,  and 
with  these  animating  words* on  her  dying  lips, 
'  I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth,'  gently  fell 
asleep  in  Jesus." 

819  Growth  in  grace.  C.  M. 

Come,  Holy  Ghost,  my  soul  inspire ; 

This  one  great  gift  impart — 
What  most  I  need,  and  most  desire, 

An  humble,  holy  heart. 

2  Bear  witness  I  am  bom  again, 
My  many  sins  forgiven : 

Nor  let  a  gloomy  doubt  remain 
To  cloud  my  liope  of  heaven. 

3  More  of  myself  ^rant  I  may  know, 
From  sin's  deceit  be  free ; 

In  all  the  Christian  graces  grow, 
.     And  live  alone  to  thee. 

Rev.  Dr.  Asahel  Nettleton  was  born  at 
North  Killingworth,  Conn.,  April  21,  1783, 
and  received  his  education  at  Yale  College. 
He  was  ordained  as  a  clergyman,  but  never 
settled  over  any  congregation,  though  he 
preached  in  several  States  and  in  Great  Brit- 
ain as  an  evangelist.  He  died  at  East  Wind- 
sor, Conn.,  May  16,  1844.  A  book  composed 
of  his  memoirs  and  sermons  was  published 
after  his  death.  As  regards  the  authorship  of 
this  hymn  there  has  been  some  conflict  of 
opinion.  It  was  ascribed  to  Dr.  Nettleton 
apparently  on  no  other  ground  than  that  it 
appeared  anonymously  in  his  Village  Hymns, 
1824;  but  an  English  authority  remarks  with 
gentle  irony  that  "  he  knew  and  could  appre- 
ciate a  good  hymn,  but  it  is  doubtful  if  he  ever 
did  or  ever  could  have  written  one."  The  cen- 
tral idea  of  the  poem  is  a  desire  for  a  greater 
degree  of  humility,  one  of  the  Christian  graces 
most  diflficult  of  attainment,  but  most  lovely 
when  gained.  A  parishioner  notoriously  culp- 
able for  his  inadequate  discharge  of  certain 
official  duties  received  a  private  remonstrance 
from  his  pastor.  Dean  Alford,  the  force  of 
which  he  attempted  to  evade  by  angrily  re- 
torting with  a  charge  of  negligence.     In  the 

23 


354 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


course  of  the  day  the  following  was  sent  to 
him  by  the  vicar :  "  Regarding  my  own  pas- 
toral deficiencies  I  heartily  thank  you.  I  am 
deeply  aware  that  I  am  not  sufficient  for  these 
things,  and  only  wish  my  place  were  better 
tilled.  At  the  same  time  the  deficiencies  of 
one  man  do  not  excuse  another.  Let  us  both 
strive  and  pray  that  we  may  be  found  diligent 
in  our  business,  fervent  in-  spirit,  serving  the 
Lord  our  God,  and  do  our  best  to  live  in  char- 
ity and  peace  with  one  another  and  with  all 
men.  Believe  me  your  affectionate  minister 
and  friend,  Henry  Alford." 

320  Faith  and  the  Future.  C.  M. 

Oh,  for  a  faith  that  will  not  shrink 

Though  pressed  by  every  foe, 
That  will  not  tremble  on  the  brink 

Of  any  earthly  woe  ! — 

2  That  will  not  murmur  nor  complain 
Beneath  the  chastening  rod, 

But,  in  the  hour  of  grief  and  pain. 
Will  lean  upon  its  God  ; 

3  God  whom  we  serve,  our  God,  can  save. 
Can  damp  the  scorching  flame, 

Can  build  an  ark,  can  smooth  the  wave, 
For  such  as  love  his  name. 

4  Lord  !  if  thine  arm  support  us  still 
With  its  eternal  strength, 

We  shall  o'ercome  the  mightiest  ill, 
And  conquerors  prove  at  length. 

Another  of  Rev.  William  Hiley  Bathurst's 
contributions  to  the  Psalms  and  Hymns  for 
Public  and  Prwaie  Use,  1831.  It  is  there 
entitled,  "  The  Power  of  Faith."  and  refers  to 
Luke  17:5.  This  hymn  has  in  its  history 
fared  somewhat  hardly  from  the  critics,  who 
have  altered  it  almost  at  their  will.  But  it 
never  had  a  worse  mischance  than  it  had  in 
Laudes  Domini,  by  some  sort  of  accident  that 
never  could  be  explained  until  it  was  too  late 
to  be  remedied.  The  last  two  verses  of  the 
piece  as  it  stands  here  were  not  written  by 
Bathurst ;  they  seem  to  have  been  mysteri- 
ously repeated  from  No.  704.  the  translation 
of  Zinzendorf's  song  in  the  Moravian  Collec- 
tion. This  is  one  of  the  most  inexplicable 
mistakes  that  sometimes  occur  in  a  printing 
office. 


82  1  Trust.— Psalm  34. 

Throl'gh  all  the  changing  scenes  of  life, 

In  trouble,  and  in  joy. 
The  praises  of  my  God  shall  still 

My  heart  and  tongue  employ. 

2  Oh,  magnify  the  Lord  with  me, 
With  me  exalt  his  name  ! 

When  in  distress  to  him  I  called, 
He  to  my  rescue  came. 

3  The  hosts  of  God  encamp  around 
The  dwellings  of  the  just : 

Deliverance  he  affords  to  all 
Who  on  his  succor  trust. 


CM. 


4  Oh,  make  but  trial  of  his  love; 

Experience  will  decide 
How  blest  are  they,  and  only  they, 

Who  in  his  truth  confide. 

This  metrical  setting  of  the  thirty-fourth 
Psalm  first  appeared  in  the  A'ew  Version  of 
the  Psalms  of  David,  by  N.  Tate  and  N. 
Brady,  published  in  1696.  In  its  original 
form  it  contained  eighteen  stanzas  of  four 
lines  each,  but  in  order  to  adapt  it  to  use  at 
the  present  time  many  different  portions  of  it 
have  been  selected,  making  centos  of  varying 
length.  The  hymn  is  an  expression  of  trust 
in  God,  and  a  thanksgiving  for  the  help 
which  never  failed  to  come  when  it  was  most 
urgently  needed.  In  the  book  of  records 
kept  for  the  Metropolitan  Tabernacle  Church 
in  London  there  is  found  the  entrj-  for  Janu- 
ary, 1 861,  in  these  words  :  "  This  church  re- 
quires ;^4,C)00  in  order  to  pay  for  the  new 
tabernacle ;  and  we,  the  undersigned,  not 
knowing  where  it  will  come  from,  fully  be- 
lieve in  our  heavenly  Father  that  he  will  send 
it  all  to  us  in  the  proper  time,  as  witness  our 
hands."  Then  follows  a  long  list  of  names 
of  deacons  and  elders,  with  those  of  several 
devout  w  omen  and  a  host  of  praying  men, 
headed  by  the  large,  broad  hand  of  the  pastor. 
Two  months  after,  about  twenty  pages  fur- 
ther on,  is  this  record  in  the  same  volume : 
"  I,  Charles  Haddon  Spurgeon,  who  am  less 
than  the  least  of  all  saints,  set  to  my  seal  that 
God  is  true,  for  he  has  supplied  us  with  all 
this  ^4,000."  And  then  follows  a  fresh 
minute  :  "  We,  the  undersigned,  hereby  de- 
clare our  confidence  in  almighty  God,  who 
has  done  to  us  according  to  our  faith,  and 
sent  us,  even  before  the  time  when  we  needed 
it,  all  that  was  wanted.  We  are  ashamed  of 
ourselves  that  we  ever  had  a  doubt,  and  we 
pray  that  we  may  always  confide  in  him  all 
things  henceforth  and  for  ever."  And  that 
record  is  signed  by  many  faithful  men  and 
women,  some  of  whom  wrote  their  names 
with  tears  in  their  eyes  as  they  remembered 
their  fears.  This  story  is  remarkable  for  two 
things,  and  not  just  for  one  only  :  it  illustrates 
the  dauntless  courage  of  a  serene  confidence 
in  the  Lord  of  hosts  ;  but  in  addition  to  that, 
it  illustrates  the  thoughtfulness  of  grateful 
hearts  in  acknowledging  what  God  had  done 
when  he  showed  he  had  done  it. 


822  Faith. 

'T  IS  by  the  faith  of  joys  to  come 
We  walk  through  deserts  dark  as  night ; 

Till  we  arrive  at  heaven,  our  home, 
Faith  is  our  guide,  and  faith  our  light. 

2  The  want  of  sight  she  well  supplies ; 

She  makes  the  pearly  gates  appear ; 
Far  into  distant  worlds  she  pries. 

And  brings  eternal  glories  near. 


L.  M. 


GRACES  OF  THE  SPIRIT. 


355 


3  Cheerful  we  tread  the  desert  through, 
While  faith  inspires  a  heavenly  ray  ; 

Though  lions  roar,  and  tempests  blow, 
And  rocks  and  dangers  fill  the  way. 

This  is  No.  129  of  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  Book 
II.  in  his  Hymns,  1709.  There  it  has  four 
stanzas,  the  last  of  which  is  decidedly  weak, 
and  reference  is  made  to  II.  Corinthians  5:7: 
"  We  walk  by  faith,  not  by  sis^ht."  The  last 
verse,  here  omitted,  makes  allusion  likewise 
to  Hebrews  11  :  8-10:  "By  faith  Abraham, 
when  he  was  called  to  go  out  into  a  place 
which  he  should  after  receive  for  an  inherit- 
ance, obeyed  ;  and  he  went  out,  not  knowing 
whither  he  went.  By  faith  he  sojourned  in 
the  land  of  promise,  as  in  a  strange  country, 
dwelling  in  tabernacles  with  Isaac  and  Jacob, 
the  heirs  with  him  of  the  same  promise  :  for 
he  looked  for  a  city  which  hath  foundations, 
whose  builder  and  maker  is  God." 

823  Faith.  L.  M. 

By  faith  in  Christ  I  walk  with  God, 
With  heaven,  my  journey's  end,  in  view; 

Supported  by  his  staff  and  rod, 
My  road  is  safe  and  pleasant  too. 

2  Though  snares  and  dangers  throng  my  path, 
And  earth  and  hell  my  course  withstand, 

I  triumph  over  all  by  faith. 
Guarded  by  his  almighty  hand. 

3  The  wilderness  affords  no  food. 
But  God  for  my  support  prepares. 

Provides  me  every  needful  good, 
And  frees  my  soul  from  wants  and  cares. 

4  With  him  sweet  converse  I  maintain; 
Great  as  he  is,  I  dare  be  free ; 

I  tell  him  all  my  grief  and  pain. 
And  he  reveals  his  love  to  me. 

Another  of  Rev.  John  Newton's  contribu- 
tions to  the  Olney  Hymns,  1779.  It  stands 
as  No.  4  of  Book  I.  Reference  is  made  to 
Genesis  5  :  24  :  "  And  Enoch  walked  with 
God."  Walking  with  God  means  being  with 
God ;  moving  forward  as  God  moves ;  going 
the  same  way  as  God  ;  and  communing  with 
God  as  one  accompanies  him. 


824  Contentment. 

O  Lord,  how  full  of  sweet  content 
Our  years  of  pilgrimage  are  spent ! 
Where'er  we  dwell,  we  dwell  with  thee. 
In  heaven,  in  earth,  or  on  the  sea. 

2  To  us  remains  nor  place  nor  time : 
Our  country  is  in  every  clime  : 

We  can  be  calm  and  free  from  care 
On  any  shore,  since  God  is  there. 

3  While  place  we  seek,  or  place  we  shun, 
The  soul  finds  happiness  in  none  ; 

But  with  our  God  to  guide  our  way, 
'T  is  equal  joy  to  go  or  stay. 

4  Could  we  be  cast  where  thou  art  not. 
That  were  indeed  a  dreadful  lot ; 

But  regions  none  remote  we  call. 
Secure  of  finding  God  in  all. 


L.  M. 


MADA.ME   GLVO.N'. 


The  poet  William  Cowper  translated  this 
hymn  from  the  French  of  Madame  Jeanne 
Marie  Bouvieres  (de  la  Mothe)  Guyon.  It  is 
usually  credited  to  the  translator,  and  appears 
in  his  works.  One  time  when  Cowper  was 
very  feeble,  his  mind  going  away  again  by 
spells,  a  friend  of  his.  Rev.  William  Bull,  of 
Newport  Pagnel,  bethought  himself  of  an  ex- 
pedient for  giving  him  some  wholesome  lit- 
erary exercise  of  a  tasteful  sort  to  occupy  his 
mind  and  keep  him  from  brooding.  Out  of 
this  there  came  a  little  book  with  this  dedi- 
cation, which  tells  its  own  story :  "  To  the 
Rev.  William  Bull  these  translations  of  a  few 
of  the  Spiritual  Songs  of  the  excellent  Madame 
Guyon,  made  at  his  express  desire,  are  dedi- 
cated by  his  affectionate  friend  and  servant, 
Williarn  Cowper,  July,  1782."  This  piece 
was  written  in  1681  ;  it  stands  as  Cantique 
108  in  the  second  volume  of  Madame  Guyon's 
Works.  Cowper's  version  contains  nine  stan- 
zas, and  is  entitled.  "  The  Soul  that  loves  God 
finds  him  Everywhere." 

Madame  Guyon  deserves  an  extensive  no- 
tice. She  was  a  strange  woman  in  many  re- 
spects, but  wonderfully  pious,  gifted,  and  use- 
ful. She  was  born  at  Montargis,  April  13, 
1648,  and  was  educated  at  a  convent.  Mar- 
ried at  sixteen  years  of  age  to  a  man  who 
was  twenty-two  years  her  senior,  possessed 
of  all  the  vitality  and  force  of  youth,  as  well 
as  more  than  usual  of  French  vivacity,  an- 
noyed by  her  mother-in-law,  deprived  of  all 
her  beauty  by  an  attack  of  small-pox  at 
twenty-two,  and  left  a  widow  six  years  later, 
she  roamed  around  the  world  as  she  pleased. 
Her  personal  experience  as  a  Christian  was 
very  peculiar.  In  her  childhood  it  was  her 
pride  to  be  dressed  like  a  small  nun.  When 
no  more  than  four  years  of  age  she  longed 
for  martyrdom,  and  her  schoolmates  placed 


356 


CHRISTIAN   EXPERIENCE. 


her  kneeling  on  a  white  cloth,  flourished  a 
saber  over  her  head,  and  told  her  to  prepare 
for  death.  She  was  frightened  almost  out  of 
her  senses,  and  they  laughed  her  to  scorn  for 
her  cowardice.  When  she  was  ten  years  old, 
learning  that  Madame  Chantal  once  branded 
her  bosom  with  a  red-hot  iron,  writing  the 
holy  name  of  Jesus  upon  the  flesh,  this  child 
also  sewed  on  her  breast  with  a  large  needle 
a  piece  of  paper  on  which  was  printed  the 
name  of  Christ.  She  tore  her  flesh  with  pin- 
cers, put  peas  in  her  shoes  so  as  to  make  her 
walk  with  pain,  wore  an  iron  girdle  about  her 
waist  so  as  to  mortify  her  members  and  force 
her  to  live  in  actual  agony.  By  and  by  she 
became  a  mystic,  and  taught  peculiar  doc- 
trines ;  she  said  she  had  visions  and  visits 
with  Christ  in  secret.  In  later  life  she  was 
persecuted  by  the  papal  Church,  and  was  im- 
prisoned in  the  Bastile.  She  was  a  gifted, 
pious,  but  greatly  mistaken  woman,  and  she 
died  at  last  in  peace  at  Blois,  June  9,  171 7. 
A  few  hymns  alone  remain  to  perpetuate  her 
memory  and  endear  her  life. 

825  Consistency.  L.  M. 

So  let  our  lips  and  lives  express 
The  holy  gospel  we  profess  ; 
So  let  our  works  and  virtues  shine, 
To  prove  the  doctrine  all  divine. 

2  Thus  shall  we  best  proclaim  abroad 
The  honors  of  our  Saviour  God  ; 
When  his  salvation  reigns  within. 
And  grace  subdues  the  power  of  sin. 

3  Religion  bears  our  spirits  up, 
While  we  expect  that  blessed  hope — 
The  bright  appearance  of  the  Lord  ; 
And  faith  stands  leaning  on  his  word. 

This  is  found  in  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  Hymns, 
No.  132  of  Book  I.  It  is  entitled,  "  Holiness 
and  Grace,"  and  makes  reference  to  Titus  2  : 
11-13  :  "  For  the  grace  of  God  that  bringeth 
salvation  hath  appeared  to  all  men,  teaching 
us  that,  denying  ungodliness  and  worldly 
lusts,  we  should  live  soberly,  righteously,  and 
godly  in  this  present  world  ;  looking  for  that 
blessed  hope,  and  the  glorious  appearing  of 
the  great  God  and  our  Saviour  Jesus  Christ." 


826 


Gratitude. — Psa.  103. 


S.  M.  D. 


Oh,  bless  the  Lord,  my  soul ! 

Let  all  within  me  join, 
And  aid  my  tongue  to  bless  his  name, 

Whose  favors  are  divine. 
Oh,  bless  the  Lord,  my  soul, 

Nor  let  his  mercies  lie 
Forgotten  in  unthankfulness, 

And  without  praises  die. 

2  'T  is  he  forgives  thy  sins, 

'T  is  he  relieves  thy  pain, 
'T  is  he  that  heals  thy  sicknesses. 

And  makes  thee  young  again. 
He  crowns  thy  life  with  love, 

When  ransomed  from  the  grave; 
He  that  redeemed  my  soul  from  hell 

Hath  sovereign  power  to  save. 


3  He  fills  the  poor  with  good  ; 

He  gives  the  sufferers  rest : 
The  Lord  hath  judgments  for  the  proud, 

And  justice  for  the  oppressed, 
His  wondrous  works  and  ways 

He  made  by  Moses  known  ; 
But  sent  the  world  his  truth  and. grace 

By  his  beloved  Son. 


"— -=i'"i^r^i^ 


BIRTHPLACF,   OF   DR.    WATTS. 

This  is  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  version  of  Psalm 
103,  First  Part,  S.  M.  It  is  entitled,  "  Praise 
for  spiritual  and  temporal  mercies,"  and  con- 
sists of  six  stanzas.  This  composition  has  re- 
mained unchanged  even  by  a  single  word. 

Dr.  Watts  never  was  married.  In  1696  he 
was  put  in  charge  of  the  children  of  Sir  John 
Hartopp,  at  Newington.  Out  of  this  associa- 
tion grew  his  fondness  for  the  young  and  his 
understanding  of  their  ways.  And  most  of  all, 
out  of  it  came  that  incomparable  book  of 
poetry,  the  Divhte  and  Moral  Songs.  In  this 
collection  we  have  "  Hush,  my  dear,  lie  still 
and  slumber,"  "  How  doth  the  little  busy  bee," 
and  "  Let  dogs  delight  to  bark  and  bite." 

It  seems  to  have  been  strangely  ordered  that 
this  good  man  should  learn  all  he  ever  knew 
of  home  joys  in  the  houses  of  his  friends.  In 
early  life  he  was  jilted  by  a  Miss  Elizabeth 
Singer,  and  he  remained  faithful  to  his  one 
love  until  he  died.  He  kept  up  his  pastoral 
work  under  much  discouragement,  his  health 
was  so  long  poor  and  precarious  at  the  very 
best.  But  he  was  always  as  happy  as  a  prince. 
The   best   pieces  he  ever  made  were  those 


GRACES   OF   THE   SPIRIT. 


357 


which    were   most    crowded    with    heartfelt 
thanksgiving  to  God  for  his  care  of  him. 

327  Grateful  Confidence.  S.  M. 

1  BLESS  the  Christ  of  God, 
I  rest  oil  love  divine, 

And  with  unfaltering  lip  and  heart, 
I  call  this  Saviour  mine. 

2  His  cross  dispells  each  doubt ; 
I  bury  in  his  tomb 

Each  thought  of  unbelief  and  fear, 
Each  lingering  shade  of  gloom. 

3  I  praise  the  God  of  peace ; 

I  trust  his  truth  and  might; 
He  calls  me  his,  I  call  him  mine, 
My  God,  my  joy,  my  light. 

4  'T  is  he  who  saveth  me, 
And  freely  pardon  gives ; 

I  love  because  he  loveth  me; 
I  live  because  he  lives. 

5  My  life  with  him  is  hid. 
My  death  has  passed  away, 

My  clouds  have  melted  into  light. 
My  midnight  into  day. 

Dr.  Horatius  Bonar  possessed  that  supreme 
gift  of  a  hymn-maker,  the  power  to  popularize 
doctrine  in  a  sacred  song.  The  substitution 
of  Christ's  merit  for  the  sinner's  guilt  is  here 
taught  in  a  bright  rhythmical  composition  of 
cheerful  praise.  Indeed,  almost  all  the  doc- 
trines of  divine  grace  are  in  this  one  song  of 
grateful  confidence  :  the  divinity  and  incarna- 
tion of  Jesus  Christ,  his  crucifixion  and  the 
atonement  wrought  out  by  it,  the  sovereignty 
of  the  Father  in  election,  and  the  mysterious 
spiritual  life  of  the  believer,  together  with  the 
hope  of  immortality  beyond  the  vail — these 
are  all  in  the  five  simple  stanzas  before  us. 
The  whole  piece  with  twelve  verses  may  be 
found  in  the  second  series  of  Hymns  of  Faith 
itnd Hope,  1 86 1. 

828  Brotherly  Love.  ys,  61. 

BLE.SSED  are  the  sons  of  God, 

They  are  bought  with  Christ's  own  blood : 

They  are  ransomed  from  the  grave ; 

Life  eternal  they  shall  have : 

With  them  numbered  may  we  be. 

Here,  and  in  eternity. 

2  They  are  ju.stified  by  grace. 
They  enjoy  the  Saviour's  peace; 
All  their  snis  are  washed  away ; 
Thev  shall  stand  in  God's  great  day: 
With  them  numbered  may  we  be. 
Here,  and  in  eternity. 

3  They  are  lights  upon  the  earth. 
Children  of  a  heavenly  birth, 
One  with  God,  with  Jesus  one: 
Glory  is  in  them  begun  : 

With  them  numbered  may  we  be, 
Here,  and  in  eternity. 

Rev.  Joseph  Humphreys  was  born  at  Bur- 
ford,  O.xfordshire,  England,  October  28, 1720, 
and  educated  in  London  at  an  academy  for 
the  training  of  young  men  for  the  ministry. 
He  was  expelled,  however,  in  1739,  because 


of  his  showing  great  attachment  to  White- 
field,  whom  he  subsequently  joined.  He 
preached  at  Bristol,  London,  and  Deptford. 
His  death  occurred  in  London,  but  the  date 
is  unknown,  although  he  is  buried  in  the  Mo- 
ravian Cemetery  at  Chelsea.  Mr.  Humphreys 
wrote  but  few  hymns,  and  only  two  are  in 
common  use  at  present,  the  one  given  here 
being  the  most  popular.  It  was  published  in 
a  collection  called  Sacred  Hymns  for  the 
Use  of  Religious  Societies,  1743.  ^t  has  been 
considerably  altered,  the  refrain  having  been 
added  to  each  verse  from  the  closing  lines  of  the 
original.  The  third  stanza  bears  perhaps  the 
leading  idea  of  the  poem,  that  the  sons  of  God 
are  put  here  as  lights  upon  the  earth,  shining 
not  of  themselves,  but  because  of  the  indwell- 
ing presence  of  God.  Recall  one  familiar 
text,  and  give  it  analysis.  "  Let  your  tight " 
— not  yourself ;  divine  grace  in  you,  not  per- 
sonal gifts — "  so  shine  before  men,  that  they 
may  see  " — not  you,  but — "  your  good  works." 
And  this  simply,  "  that  they  may  glorify  " — 
not  you  at  all,  but—"  your  Father  which  is  in 
heaven."  Here  is  an  intense  thrusting  of  self 
back  out  of  sight  and  out  of  notice.  And  yet 
the  Christian,  who  will  do  that  persistently, 
can  never  help  it  but  that  he  will  become  con- 
spicuous. Think  of  the  graceful  surrender  of 
John  the  Baptist,  when  he  said,  "  Behold  the 
Lamb  of  God !"  He  had  been  a  man  of 
mark  before.  Now  he  retreated  out  of  no- 
tice. His  last  and  noblest  act  was  to  say,  I 
am  not  the  Christ ;  I  am  a  mere  Voice  ;  he 
must  increase ;  I  must  decrease.  Hence 
when  he  seized  and  waved  the  torch  of  truth, 
that  it  might  flash  radiance  on  Jesus'  face, 
how  could  he  help  it  but  that  it  should  illu- 
mine his  own  ?  Thus,  and  thus  only,  he  be- 
came a  "  bright  and  shining  light  "  himself, 
by  walking  straight  up  to  Christ,  and  saying, 
"  This  is  the  true  Light  of  the  world!"  The 
sunshine  he  stood  in  made  him  luminous  for 


829  Psalm  23. 

Shephkri)  !  with  thy  tenderest  love. 
Guide  me  to  thy  fold  above ; 
Let  me  hear  thy  gentle  voice ; 
More  and  more  in  thee  rejoice; 
From  thy  fullness  grace  receive. 
Ever  in  ihy  Spirit  live. 

2  Filled  by  thee  my  cup  o'erflows. 
For  thy  love  no  limit  knows  ; 
Guardian  angels,  ever  nigh. 
Lead  and  draw  my  soul  on  high ; 
Constant  to  my  latest  end. 

Thou  my  footsteps  wilt  attend. 

3  Jesus,  with  thy  presence  blest. 
Death  is  life,  and  labor  rest ; 
Guide  me  while  I  draw  my  breath. 
Guard  me  through  the  gate  of  death; 
And  at  last,  oh,  let  me  stand 

With  the  sheep  at  thy  right  hand. 


7S,  61 


358 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


Thirty  years  ago  this  piece  came  within 
reach — in  a  newspaper,  in  a  volume,  in 
a  hymnal — somewhere,  and  we  laid  hold 
upon  it  for  the  Songs  for  the  Sanctu- 
ary, 1865.  We  could  not  ascertain  then  the 
name  of  the  author,  and  we  never  could 
since.  In  the  natural  course  of  further  com- 
pilation the  hymn  kept  its  hold  upon  the 
public  and  came  into  Laudes  Domttti,  for  in- 
deed it  is  very  beautiful.  It  is  a  free  para- 
phrase of  Psalm  23. 

830  Psaitii  131.  7s,  61. 

Quiet,  Lord,  my  froward  heart. 

Make  me  teachable  and  mild, 
Upright,  siniiple,  free  from  art, 

Make  me  as  a  weaned  child  ; 
From  distrust  and  envy  free, 
Pleased  with  all  that  pleases  thee. 

2  What  thou  shall  to-day  provide. 
Let  me  as  a  child  receive  ; 

What  to-morrow  may  betide. 

Calmly  to  thy  wisdom  leave: 
'T  is  enough  that  thou  wilt  care; 
Why  should  I  the  burden  bear? 

3  As  a  little  child  relies 

On  a  care  beyond  his  own. 
Knows  he  's  neither  strong  nor  wise. 

Fears  to  stir  a  step  alone — 
Let  me  thus  with  thee  abide. 
As  my  Father,  Guard,  and  Guide. 

The  book  of  Obicy  Hymns,  1779,  contains 
this  poem  by  Rev.  John  Newton,  which  origi- 
nally was  published  with  four  verses.  It  has 
become  widely  popular  from  its  calmness  and 
gentleness  of  sentiment,  the  childlike  trust 
which  accepts  all  that  comes  to  us  as  the  will 
of  our  Father,  and  feels  itself  comforted  and 
cheered  by  the  knowledge.  We  should  be 
happier  men  and  more  useful  to  others,  and 
generally  more  welcome  in  the  world,  if  we 
would  help  put  up  the  stock  of  human  com- 
fort rather  than  aid  in  depreciating  it.  It  is 
the  poet  Southey  who  is  quoted  as  having 
said  in  one  of  his  letters  :  "  I  have  told  you  of 
the  Spaniard  who  always  put  on  his  spectacles 
when  about  to  eat  cherries,  that  they  might 
look  bigger  and  more  tempting.  In  a  like 
manner  I  make  the  most  of  my  enjoyments ; 
and  though  I  do  not  cast  my  eyes  away  from 
my  troubles,  I  pack  them  in  as  little  compass 
as  I  can  for  myself,  and  never  let  them  annoy 
others." 


S3 1  Gratitude. 

For  the  beauty  of  the  earth. 
For  the  glory  of  the  skies, 
For  the  love  which  from  our  birth 

Over  and  around  us  lies  : 
Lord  of  all,  to  thee  we  raise 
This  our  grateful  psalm  of  praise. 

2  For  the  wonder  of  each  hour 
Of  the  day  and  of  the  night  ; 

Hill  and  vale,  and  tree  and  flower. 
Sun  and  moon,  and  stars  of  light  ; 

Lord  of  all,  to  thee  we  raise 

This  our  grateful  psalm  of  praise. 


7S,  61. 


3  For  the  joy  of  human  love. 
Brother,  sister,  parent,  child; 

Friends  on  earth,  and  friends  above, 

Pleasures  pure  and  undefiled  ; 
Lord  of  all,  to  thee  we  raise 
This  our  grateful  psalm  of  praise. 

4  For  thy  church  that  evermore 
Lifts  her  holy  hands  above, 

Offering  up  on  every  shore 

Her  pure  sacrifice  of  love ; 
Lord  of  all,  to  thee  we  raise 
This  our  grateful  psalm  of  praise. 

Folliott  Sandford  Pierpoint,  M.  A.,  was  born 
at  Bath,  England,  October  7,  1835,  and  stud- 
ied at  Queen's  College,  Cambridge,  graduat- 
ing with  classical  honors.  He  has  published 
several  volumes  of  poetry,  but  is  best  known 
by  the  hymn  quoted  here,  which  he  contribut- 
ed to  the  Lyra  Eitcliarisika,  1864.  It  has  be- 
come widely  popular  on  both  sides  of  the  sea, 
for  its  glowing  expression  of  gratitude  and 
praise. 

Once  in  the  course  of  my  ministry  I  received 
a  confidential  note  from  a  cultivated  lady  in 
our  congregation.  She  told  me  she  had  lately 
been  thrown  into  much  alarm  by  threatened 
loss  of  eyesight.  So  she  had  come  to  the 
Sunday  services  in  terrible  dread  of  darkness 
for  the  rest  of  her  life.  There  she  found  that 
she  could  not  even  follow  as  I  read  the  Scrip- 
tures. This  made  her  "  unusually  wicked  and 
rebellious."  But  what  was  worse,  the  prayer 
with  which  I  continued  the  worship  com- 
menced with  the  sentence  :  "  Help  us  to  come 
to  thee  to-day,  O  our  Father,  with  only  thanks- 
givings, without  a  petition  among  them  !"  It 
was  a  singular  opening,  and  now  she  said  to 
herself :  "I  shall  get  nothing  in  my  great 
need."  She  was  startled,  absolutely  shocked, 
she  wrote  frankly,  to  find  that  her  own  pray- 
ers were  all  petitions — had  been,  as  if  she  had 
nothing  else  to  offer,  for  a  long  time.  And 
now  the  letter  added  :  "  That  prayer  in  the 
pulpit  was  the  first  bit  of  comfort  God  gave 
me  for  many  long  months :  for  as  it  proceed- 
ed I  began  to  realize  I  had  still  many  bless- 
ings to  be  thankful  for.  I  came  home  penitent 
and  helped,  and  since  that  morning  things 
have  never  appeared  to  me  quite  so  dark  as 
they  had  seemed  before."  The  truth  was  she 
began  to  think  praises  instead  of  mournings, 
and  her  heart  rose  with  genuine  hosannas. 
She  inclosed  a  copy  of  some  little  verses  I  had 
never  seen.  They  had  a  quaint  lesson  in  them, 
which  may  make  them  helpful  to  everybody. 

"  St.  Peter,  from  the  door  of  heaven,  one  day 
Sped  two  young  angels  on  their  happy  way. 
For  the  first  time  to  see  the  world  in  May — 
Both  bearing  baskets. 

"  They  were  to  bring  back  flowers  more  fragrant  far 
Than  budding  rose  and  blooming  hawthorn  are: 
They  were  to  bring  the  praise  of  all  the  star 
Back  in  their  baskets. 


GRACES   OF   THE   SPIRIT. 


359 


"The  Angel  of  Thanksgivings,  full  of  glee, 
Donned  a  huge  hamper  half  as  big  as  he; 
But  the  Collector  of  Petitions — see  ! 
With  a  small  basket. 

"  When  they  returned    St.  Peter,  as  before, 
Sat  with  his  golden  keys  beside  the  door. 
But  each  appeared  to  be  in  trouble  sore 
About  his  basket. 

"  The  Angel  of  Petitions  bore  a  sack 
Cram  full,  and  bound  uncouthly  on  his  back  ; 
Yet  even  then  it  seemed  that  he  had  lack 
Of  bag  and  basket. 

"  The  Angel  of  Thanksgivings  blushed  to  feel 
The  empty  lightness  of  his  mighty  creel ; 
'  But  three  !'  he  muttered — turning  on  his  heel 
To  hide  his  basket. 

"  Then  spoke  St.  Peter :  '  When  again  you  go 
On  a  prayer  gathering,  you  will  oetter  know 
That  men's  petitions  in  the  world  below 
Fill  a  big  basket. 

"  '  But  when  you  go  to  gather  up  their  thanks 

For  prayers  well  answered  and  forgiven  pranks, 
For  health  restored  and  disentangled  hanks — 
Your  smallest  basket.'  " 

832  Charity.  ys,  61. 

Though  I  speak  with  angel  tongues, 
Bravest  words  of  strength  and  fire, 

They  are  but  as  idle  songs. 
If  no  love  my  heart  inspire; 

All  the  eloquence  shall  pass 

As  the  noise  of  sounding  brass. 

2  Though  I  lavish  all  I  have 
On  the  poor  in  charity. 

Though  I  shrink  not  from  the  grave. 

Or  unmoved  the  stake  can  see — 
Till  by  love  the  work  be  crowned. 
All  shall  profitless  be  found. 

3  Come,  thou  Spirit  of  pure  love. 
Who  didst  forth  from  God  proceed, 

Never  from  my  heart  remove ; 
Let  me  all  thy  impulse  heed  ; 
Let  my  heart  henceforward  be 
Movea,  controlled,  inspired,  by  thee. 

Miss  Catharine  Winlcworth  published  this 
piece  in  the  opening  series  of  Lyra  Gerinan- 
ica,  1855.  It  is  an  excellent  rendering  of  the 
German  Hymn  of  Ernst  Lange,  "  Unter  denen 
grossen  Gutcrji."  The  translation  has  an- 
other stanza  at  the  beginning  :  "  Many  a  gift 
did  Christ  impart."  The  whole  piece  is  a 
metrical  paraphrase  of  the  apostle's  descrip- 
tion of  Charity  as  the  chief  of  all  the  Chris- 
tian graces:  I.  Corinthians  13:1-3.  The  au- 
thor was  a  man  of  affairs  in  Dantzig  in  Ger- 
many for  many  years.  Born  in  1650,  his  life 
was  cast  into  the  midst  of  an  age  that  needed 
firmness,  spirituality,  and  sincerity.  He  was 
called  by  the  public  to  be  burgomaster  and 
magistrate,  and  he  fulfilled  the  high  duties 
belonging  to  these  positions  with  purity  and 
strength.  His  hymn-WTiting  was  an  unex- 
pected accomplishment  of  his  later  life.  He 
did  not  begin  it  till  after  he  was  sixty-one 
years  of  age.  His  death  is  recorded  in 
1727. 


833  Trust.  7s,  61. 

Saviour,  happy  would  I  be. 
If  I  could  but  trust  in  thee; 
Trust  thy  wisdom  me  to  guide ; 
Trust  thy  goodness  to  provide; 
Trust  thy  saving  love  and  power; 
Trust  thee  every  day  and  hour: 

2  Trust  thee  as  the  only  light 
In  the  darkest  hour  of  night ; 
Trust  in  sickness,  trust  in  health, 
Trust  in  poverty  and  wealth  ; 
Trust  in  joy  and  trust  in  grief; 
Trust  thy  promise  for  relief 

3  Trust  thy  blood  to  cleanse  my  soul ; 
Trust  thy  grace  to  make  me  whole ; 
Trust  thee  living,  dying  too ; 

Trust  thee  all  my  journey  through; 
Trust  thee  till  my  feet  shall  be 
Planted  on  the  crystal  sea. 

This  poem  by  Rev.  Dr.  Edwin  H.  Nevin 
was  first  published  in  the  Congregational 
Hymn-Book,  1857,  and  became  popular  im- 
mediately. Its  title  "  Trust "  expresses  its 
spirit,  unwavering  faith  in  the  Saviour  through 
every  change  and  experience  of  our  life. 
There  is  a  story  of  Alexander  the  Great,  a 
man  who  once  ruled  the  world,  that  he  was 
sick,  and  a  friend  was  with  him  who  was  a 
physician,  and  was  about  to  administer  medi- 
cine. Before  he  had  given  it,  a  letter  was 
delivered  to  Alexander,  saying  that  that  very 
dose  of  medicine  was  poison.  When  his 
friend  came  with  the  medicine,  he  took  it  in 
one  hand  and  drank  it,  while  with  the  other 
he  gave  the  letter  to  his  physician.  That  was 
great  trust,  for  had  his  physician  failed  him 
he  would  have  lost  his  life.  Can  we  not  as 
fully  trust  our  Friend  above  all  others  } 

834  Adoption.  L.  M. 

Not  all  the  nobles  of  the  earth. 
Who  boast  the  honors  of  their  birth, 
So  high  a  dignity  can  claim 
As  those  who  bear  the  Christian  name. 

2  To  them  the  privilege  is  given 
To  be  the  sons  and  heirs  of  heaven  ; 
Sons  of  the  God  who  reigns  on  high. 
And  heirs  of  joy  beyond  the  sky. 

3  His  will  he  makes  them  early  know, 
And  teaches  their  young  feet  to  go  ; 
Whispers  in.structions  to  their  minds. 
And  on  their  hearts  his  precepts  binds. 

4  Their  daily  wants  his  hands  supply. 
Their  steps  he  guards  with  watchful  eye ; 
Leads  them  from  earth  to  heaven  above, 
And  crowns  them  with  eternal  love. 

Another  of  Dr.  Samuel  Stennett's  contribu- 
tions to  Dr.  Rippon's  Selection,  1787.  It  bears 
the  title,  "  Christians  as  Sons  of  God."  Say 
what  we  may,  there  is  a  sort  of  blood-aristoc- 
racy in  the  household  of  faith.  Edgar  A. 
Poe  uttered  something  more  than  a  mere 
poetic  conceit  when  he  spoke  of  "  the  high- 
born kinsman  "  who  came  and  took  away  the 
dying  maiden.     "  We  are  of  God,  and   the 


36o 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


whole  world  lieth  in  wickedness."  Such  a 
profession  would  be  insufferable  in  its  con- 
ceit, if  it  were  not  that  believers  spent  most 
of  their  lives  in  pleading  with  sinners  to 
accept  the  gift  of  adoption,  and  become  sons 
of  God  and  heirs  of  heaven  by  divine  grace, 
and  so  have  all  the  vast  privileges  of  the 
Father's  house  equally  with  the  best  of  them. 

835  Psalm  85.  L.  M. 

Salvation  is  for  ever  nigh 

The  souls  that  fear  and  trust  the  Lord ; 

And  grace,  descending  from  on  high, 
Fresh  hopes  of  glory  shall  afTord. 

2  Now  truth  and  honor  shall  abound, 
Religion  dwell  on  earth  again, 

AH  heavenly  influence  bless  the  ground 
In  our  Redeemer's  gentle  reign. 

3  His  righteousness  is  gone  before, 
To  give  us  free  access  to  God  ; 

Our  wandering  feet  shall  stray  no  more. 
But  mark  his  steps  and  keep  the  road. 

Dr.  Isaac  Watts  gives  us  this  as  his  version 
of  Psalm  85,  Second  Part,  L.  M.  Of  all  the 
sermons  Jonah  ever  composed,  the  best,  the 
truest,  and  the  greatest  is  that  which  he 
preached  in  the  dark  to  himself  in  the  whale 
once :  "  Salvation  is  of  the  Lord."  Jonah 
2:9. 

836  Psalm  91.  L.  M. 

He  that  hath  made  his  refuge  God 
Shall  find  a  most  secure  abode; 
Shall  walk  all  day  beneath  his  shade, 
And  there,  at  night,  shall  rest  his  head. 

2  Then  will  I  say,  "  My  God !  thy  power 
Shall  be  my  fortress  and  my  tower ; 

I,  who  am  formed  of  feeble  dust. 
Make  thine  almighty  arm  my  trust." 

3  Thrice  happy  man  !  thy  Maker's  care 
Shall  keep  thee  from  the  fowler's  snare  ; 
Satan,  the  fowler,  who  betrays 
Unguarded  souls  a  thousand  ways. 

Dr.  Isaac  Watts  has  given  us  this  as  his 
version  of  Psalm  91,  L.  M.  It  is  very  literal, 
prosaic,  and  plain ;  but  it  is  full  of  comfort. 
The  author  entitled  it,  "  Safety  in  Public  Dis- 
eases and  Dangers."  It  used  to  be  sung  in 
old  days  of  pestilence.  The  chaplains  in  the 
army  called  it  "  The  Soldiers'  Hymn  "  in  the 
war.     It  is  common  to  sing  it  on  the  sea. 


837  Completeness. 

Complete  in  thee !  no  work  of  mine 
May  take,  dear  Lord,  the  place  of  thine; 
Thy  blood  has  pardon  bought  for  me. 
And  I  am  now  complete  in  thee. 

2  Complete  in  thee — no  more  shall  sin. 
Thy  grace  has  conquered,  reign  within; 
Thy  voice  will  bid  the  tempter  flee. 
And  I  shall  stand  complete  in  thee. 

3  Complete  in  thee — each  want  supplied, 
\nA  no  good  thing  to  me  denied, 
Since  thou  my  portion.  Lord,  wilt  be, 

I  ask  no  more — complete  in  thee. 


L.  M. 


4  Dear  Saviour !  when,  before  thy  bar, 
AH  tribes  and  tongues  assembled  are, 
Among  thy  chosen  may  I  be 
At  thy  right  hand — complete  in  thee. 


REV.    A.    R.    WOLFE. 


Among  the  first  settlers  of  Newark  from 
Connecticut  in  1666  was  Hugh  Robarts,  of 
Wales.  His  great-great-grandson,  Aaron 
Robarts,  was  a  soldier  of  the  Revolution,  and 
was  engaged  in  the  battle  of  Monmouth. 
Rev.  Aaron  Robarts  Wolfe,  the  author  of  this 
hymn,  was  a  grandson  of  the  preceding,  and 
was  born  at  Mendham,  N.  J.,  September  6, 
1 82 1.  In  his  early  youth  he  was  a  school- 
mate of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Theodore  L.  Cuyler,  at 
"  Uncle  "  Ezra  Fairchild's  famous  "  Hill-Top 
School  "  in  that  place.  He  pursued  his  pre- 
paratory studies  at  Lanesborough,  Mass.,  and 
was  graduated  with  the  "  Poem  "  at  Williams 
College  in  the  class  of  1844. 

The  next  eleven  years,  including  his  course 
in  the  Union  Theological  Seminary,  1848-51 , 
were  spent  in  teaching  and  preaching  in 
Florida.  In  1855  he  became  associated  with 
the  Rev.  Dr.  Gorham  D.  Abbott,  in  the  Spin- 
gler  Institute  for  Young  Ladies  on  Union 
Square,  in  New  York  city.  It  was  during  his 
three  years  here  that  the  most  of  his  hymns 
were  written.  In  1858  he  was  married  to 
Laura  F.  Jackson,  a  teacher  in  this  institution, 
daughter  of  Luther  Jackson,  Esq.,  of  New 
York.  In  1859  he  established  the  "  Hillside 
Seminary  for  Young  Ladies  "  in  West  Bloom- 
field  (now  Montclair),  N.  J.,  and  conducted  it 
with  eminent  usefulness  and  success  for  thir- 
teen years.  He  has  since  lived  in  quiet  re- 
tirement in  Montclair,  suffering   much   from 


I'RIVILKC.ES   OF    BELIEVERS. 


36r 


inhrm  health.  Of  his  four  children — three 
sons  and  a  daughter — one  is  preaching 
in  Iowa ;  another  is  Professor  of  Latin  in 
Park  College,  Missouri. 

The  present  hymn  is  based  upon  a  poem 
which  was  composed  while  the  author  was  in 
the  seminary,  and  published  in  the  New  York 
Evangelist  in  1851.  The  devout  spirit  of  the 
man  is  fittingly  illustrated  by  the  account  he 
once  gave  his  friends  of  an  incident  which 
shaped  his  after-career  somewhat  seriously. 
When  he  left  Florida  in  the  summer  of  1855 
he  put  all  his  effects — library,  notes,  and 
things  of  that  sort — on  board  a  sailing-vessel 
at  St.  Mark's,  and  with  a  simple  gripsack  re- 
turned North  by  way  of  Nashville  and  Chi- 
cago. Reaching  New  York  after  some  two 
weeks  spent  in  journeying,  he  sought  his 
goods  at  the  commission  house  to  which  they 
had  been  consigned.  There  he  learned  that, 
on  the  day  appointed  for  sailing,  the  vessel 
had  been  struck  by  lightning,  the  mate  killed 
at  the  foot  of  the  mast,  and  the  vessel,  laden 
with  turpentine,  burned  to  the  water's  edge. 
"Books,  papers,  notes,  everything  of  past  treas- 
ure had  gone  up  in  smoke.  He  looked  upon 
this  as  a  special  providence  of  God,  shaping 
his  life,  and  fixing  his  home.  For  it  made 
him  a  teacher  of  the  young  rather  than  a  pas- 
tor of  a  church ;  and  soon  the  way  was 
opened  for  the  beginning  of  one  of  the  most 
useful  engagements  with  Dr.  Abbott,  and  so 
his  life  was  fashioned.  Thus  he  had  his  call- 
ing shown  to  him,  and  thus  he  found  the 
greatest  of  his  earthly  blessings  in  her  who 
has  been  the  companion  of  his  long  and 
earnest  career.  Thus  the  Lord  made  up  his 
petty  losses  by  a  rich  reward. 


838 


Security  and  Rest. 


L.  M. 


Lord,  how  secure  and  blest  are  they 
Who  feel  the  joys  of  pardoned  sin  ! 

Should  storms  of  wrath  shake  earth  and  sea. 
Their  minds  have  heaven  and  peace  within. 

2  The  day  glides  sweetly  o'er  their  heads, 
Made  up  of  innocence  and  love; 

And  soft  and  silent  as  the  shades. 
Their  nightly  minutes  gently  move. 

3  Quick  as  their  thoughts  their  joys  come  on, 
But  fly  not  half  so  swift  away  : 

Their  souls  are  ever  bright  as  noon, 
And  calm  as  summer  evenings  be. 

4  How  oft  they  look  to  heavenly  hills, 
Where  streams  of  living  pleasures  flow  ; 

And  longing  hopes  and  cheerful  smiles 
Sit  undisturbed  upon  their  brow  ! 

5  They  scorn  to  seek  earth's  golden  toys. 
But  spend  the  day,  and  share  the  night, 

In  numbering  o'er  the  richer  joys 
That  heaven  prepares  for  their  delight. 

This  may  be  found  in   the  Hymns  of   Dr. 
Isaac  Watts,  1707,  No.  57  of  Book  IL     It  is 


entitled,  "  The  Pleasures  of  a  Good  Con- 
science." It  proffers  the  picture  of  a  life  full 
of  peace  and  rest ;  and  in  certain  moods  of 
discontent,  weariness  or  pain,  it  falls  down 
upon  a  troubled  soul  like  the  chimes  of  a  dis- 
tant belfry,  or  the  serene  shining  of  the  stars. 
The  conception  John  Bunyan  gives  us  of  the 
Land  of  Beulah  is  very  welcome.  We  long 
for  a  small  rest  on  earth  in  which  to  make 
ready  for  a  greater  rest  in  heaven. 


ABNEV  HOUSE. 

If  we  maybe  allowed  to  associate  a  poet's 
personal  history  with  his  work,  we  should 
say  that  this  hymn  fairly  represents  the  life  of 
its  composer  during  the  history  of  his  associ- 
ation with  the  friends  who  cared  so  generous- 
ly   for    him   in   his   chronic  invalidhood.     In 

17 1 2  Dr.  Watts  was  seized  by  a  fever  \\4iich 
shattered  his  constitution.  From  its  effects 
he  never  fully  recovered ;  he  was  always  sub- 
ject to  nervous  prostration  accompanied  with 
intense  pain.  Sir  Thomas  Abney  invited  him 
to  come  for  a  period  of  recuperation  to  his 
residence.  He  had  been  afflicted  with  one  of 
his  customary  attacks  of  neuralgic  fever.     In 

17 1 3  he  became  an  inmate  of  Abney  House. 
It  was  of  this  season  that  long  afterward  he 
wrote  to  Lady  Huntingdon :  "  This  day 
thirty  years  I  came  hither  to  the  house  of  my 
good  friend,  intending  to  spend  but  one 
single  week  under  his  friendly  roof ;  and  I 
have  extended  my  visit  to  the  length  of  ex- 
actly thirty  years." 

839  Remettibrance.  L.  M. 

Earth's  transitory  things  decay ; 
Its  pomps,  its  pleasures  pass  away  ; 
But  the  sweet  memory  of  the  good 
Survives  in  the  vicissitude. 

2  As,  "mid  the  ever-rolling  sea, 

The  eternal  isles  established  be, 

'Gainst  which  the  surges  of  the  main 

Fret,  dash,  and  break  themselves  in  vain  ; — 


362 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIEN'CE. 


3  As  in  the  heavens,  the  urns  divine 
Of  golden  light  for  ever  shine  : 

Though  clouds  may  darken,  storms  may  rage, 
They  still  shine  on  from  age  to  age ; — 

4  So,  through  the  ocean  tide  of  years. 
The  memory-  of  the  just  appears  ; 

So,  through  the  tempest  and  the  gloom, 
The  good  man's  virtues  light  the  tomb. 

In  the  Hytims  by  Sir  John  Bovvring,  pub- 
lished in  1825,  we  first  find  this  poem. 
It  was  suggested  by  Proverbs  10:  7:  "The 
memory  of  the  just  is  blessed  :  but  the  name 
of  the  wicked  shall  rot."  The  sentiment  of 
the  hymn  is  well  illustrated  by  a  magnificent 
statue  of  marble  which  once  stood  over  the 
great  gate  of  Cardinal  Grenville's  house.  In 
one  hand  the  figure  held  a  wine-cup,  in  the 
other  an  urn.  But  the  wine-cup  was  inverted 
and  empty ;  the  urn  was  erect,  and  overflowed 
with  pure  water  from  the  hills.  And  on  the 
pedestal  for  a  motto  was  car\ed  the  single 
word,  Dtirate,  endure  I 

840  Perseverance.  L.  M. 

Who  shall  the  Lord's  elect  condemn  ? 

'T  is  God  who  justifies  their  souls  ; 
And  mercy,  like  a  mighty  stream. 

O'er  all  tlieir  sins  divinely  rolls. 

2  Who  shall  adjudge  the  saints  to  hell? 
'T  is  Christ  who  suffered  in  their  stead  ; 

And  their  salvation  to  fulfill, 

Behold  him  rising  from  the  dead  ! 

3  He  lives !  he  lives !  and  sits  above, 
For  ever  interceding  there  : 

Who  shall  divide  us  from  his  love. 
Or  what  shall  tempt  us  to  despair? 

4  Shall  persecution  or  distress, 
Famine,  or  sword,  or  nakedness? 

He  who  hath  loved  us  bears  us  through. 
And  makes  us  more  than  conquerors  too. 

5  Not  all  that  men  on  earth  can  do. 

Nor  powers  on  high,  nor  powers  below. 
Shall  cause  his  mercy  to  remove. 
Or  wean  our  hearts  from  Christ,  our  love. 

The  doctrine  of  the  saints'  perseverance  is 
one  of  the  most  dogmatic  to  be  found  in  the 
old  Calvinistic  creeds.  Dr.  Isaac  Watts  has 
set  himself  deliberately  to  sing  it  in  church 
services.  He  reached  his  end  with  an  emi- 
nent success  by  employing  a  paraphrase.  He 
gave  Romans  8 :  33-39  a  metrical  form,  and 
,  put  the  composition  in  his  Hyintis  as  No.  14 
in  Book  I.  It  has  six  stanzas,  L.  M.,  and  is 
entitled,  "  The  triumph  of  faith ;  or,  Christ's 
unchangeable  Love."  The  piece  appears  in 
almost  all  the  modem  collections.  It  is 
stately ;  but  it  is  orthodo.x.  Scriptural,  and 
good. 

84 1  Assurance.  C.  M. 

When  I  can  read  my  title  clear 

To  mansions  in  the  skies, 
I  bid  farewell  to  ever\-  fear. 

And  wipe  my  weeping  eyes. 


2  Should  earth  against  my  soul  engage. 
And  fier>-  darts  be  hurled. 

Then  1  can  smile  at  Satan's  rage. 
And  face  a  frowning  world. 

3  Let  cares  like  a  wild  deluge  come. 
And  storms  of  sorrow  fall. 

May  I  but  safely  reach  my  home. 
My  God,  my  heaven,  my  all ! 

4  There  shall  I  bathe  my  weary  soul 
In  seas  of  heavenly  rest ; 

And  not  a  wave  of  trouble  roll 
Across  my  peaceful  breast; 

Years  ago,  when  the  revival  system  of  new 
measures  was  fully  in  vogue,  there  used  to  be 
tacked  to  this  piece  a  chorus  beginning,  "  Oh, 
that  will  be  joyful,  joyful,  joyful."  Very  soon 
accretions  of  a  miscellaneous  sort  began  to 
follow,  even  to  the  extreme  of  doggerel.  The 
writer  of  this  annotation  has  seen  in  a  hymn- 
book,  and  has  heard  given  out  in  a  meeting, 
many  times,  this  stanza : 

"  W'hen  we've  been  there  ten  thousand  year. 
Bright  shining  as  the  sun, 
There 's  no  less  days  to  sing  God's  praise 
Than  when  we  first  begun. 

Oh,  that  will  be  joyful,  &c." 

Hence  the  associations  of  the  poetry-  are  not 
altogether  wholesome.  Still  the  old  strains 
have  a  home  in  some  hearts.  If  the  "  re- 
storers "  clamor  seriously  to  have  "hellish 
darts,"  as  Dr.  Isaac  Watts  wrote  in  his  No. 
65  of  Book  II.,  instead  of  ''fiery  darts,"  the 
compiler  of  I.audes  Domini  would  regret 
having  perpetuated  the  ancient  hymn.  And 
indeed,  there  is  a  way  of  singing  it,  with  one's 
eyes  closed  in  sleek  satisfaction,  and  an  entire 
forgetfulness  of  the  lost  world  around  rolling 
and  swaying  on  to  judgment.  The  great- 
hearted Norman  Macleod  once  cried  out  m 
his  Scotch  impetuosity  :  "  The  joy  of  the  re- 
deemed is  not  a  selfish  joy.  I  would  despise 
the  saint  who  enjoyed  himself  in  a  glorious 
mansion  singing  psalms,  and  who  did  not 
wish  his  joy  disturbed  by  sharing  Christ's 
noble  and  grand  care  about  the  world." 

342  "Saints'  Inventory.'"  C.  M. 

If  God  is  mine,  then  present  things 
And  things  to  come  are  mine : 

Yea,  Christ,  his  word,  and  Spirit  too. 
And  glory  all  divine. 

2  If  he  is  mine,  then  from  his  love 
He  every  trouble  sends  ; 

All  things  are  working  for  my  good, 
And  bliss  his  rod  attends. 

3  If  he  is  mine,  let  friends  forsake, 
Let  wealth  and  honor  flee  : 

Sure  he  who  giveth  me  himself 
Is  more  than  these  to  me. 

4  Oh,  tell  me,  Lord,  that  thou  art  mine; 
What  can  1  wish  beside? 

My  soul  shall  at  the  fountain  live, 
When  all  the  streams  are  dried. 


PRIVILEGES   OF    BELIEVERS. 


363 


Rev.  Benjamin  Beddome  was  a  singularly 
modest  man.  He  evidently  had  ability  which 
would  have  lifted  him  into  a  much  higher 
professional  position  than  the  little  village  he 
spent  his  life  in  afforded.  It  is  on  record  that 
he  was  invited  to  London  to  become  the  pas- 
tor of  the  congregation  in  which  he  had  first 
joined  the  Church.  The  call  was  actually 
made  out  and  sent  to  him ;  the  journey  was 
effected  on  horseback,  as  usual  in  those  days, 
and  the  official  member  of  the  body  who  un- 
dertook the  service  of  the  document  gave  his 
horse  into  the  care  of  a  man  who  proved  to 
be  a  member  of  Beddome's  congregation. 
This  parishioner  found  out  at  once  the  errand 
of  the  city  visitor;  and  then  he  did  two 
peremptorily  energetic  things :  he  said  to  the 
emissary  from  Goodman's  Fields,  "  Robbers 
of  churches  are  the  worst  sort  of  robbers,"  and 
then  turned  loose  the  animal  he  was  holding 
by  the  bridle,  to  the  confusion  of  the  owner. 
The  "  robber  "  got  his  gentle  but  speedy  an- 
swer the  moment  he  presented  his  paper :  "  I 
would  rather  honor  God  in  a  station  much 
inferior  to  that  in  which  he  has  placed  me 
than  intrude  myself  into  a  higher  without  his 
direction."  So  he  remained  there  fifty-two 
years,  and  kept  singing  always.  This  hymn 
appeared  first  in  Dr.  Rippon's  Selection,  edi- 
tion of  1800. 

843  Psalm  125.  C.  M. 
Unshaken  as  the  sacred  hill, 

And  fixed  as  mountains  be. 
Firm  as  a  rock  the  soul  shall  rest 
That  leans,  O  Lord,  on  thee ! 

2  Not  walls  nor  hills  could  guard  so  well 
Old  Salem's  happy  ground, 

As  those  eternal  arms  of  love 
That  everj'  saint  surround. 

3  Deal  gently,  Lord,  with  souls  sincere, 
And  lead  them  safelv  on 

To  the  bright  gates  of  Paradise, 
Where  Christ,  their  Lord,  is  gone. 

There  is  a  natural  wish  in  the  hearts  of 
many  of  God's  people  to  preserve  their  rev- 
erence for  Dr.  Isaac  Watts,  and  also  for  the 
ancient  temple  songs.  Hence  such  versions 
as  this  of  Psalm  125  are  welcome,  and  most 
likely  will  keep  their  places  for  many  genera- 
tions to  come.  Two  stanzas  of  the  original 
five  are  omitted  as  being  unnecessary,  and 
even  in  some  degree  uncouth.  The  piece  is 
entitled,  "  The  Saint's  Tri&l  and  Safety." 

844  Perseverance. 
Firm  as  the  earth  thy  gospel  stands, 

My  Lord,  my  hope,  my  trust ; 
If  I  am  found  in  Jesus'  hands. 
My  soul  can  ne'er  be  lost. 

2  His  honor  is  engaged  to  save 

The  meanest  of  his  sheep; 
All,  whom  his  heavenly  Father  gave, 

His  hands  securely  keep. 


3  Nor  death  nor  hell  shall  e"er  remove 

His  favorites  from  his  breast  ; 
In  the  dear  bosom  of  his  love 

They  must  for  ever  rest. 

"Saints  in  the  hand  of  Christ "  is  the  title 
with  which  Dr.  Isaac  Watts  has  introduced 
this  little  hymn  of  three  stanzas.  He  refers 
to  John  10:  28,  29.     It  is  No.  138  of  Book  I. 

845  Security.  C.  M. 

There  is  a  safe  and  secret  place, 

Beneath  the  wings  divine, 
Reserved  for  all  the  heirs  of  grace — 

Oh,  be  that  refuge  mine! 

2  The  least  and  feeblest  there  may  bide, 
Uninjured  and  unawed ; 

While  thousands  fall  on  ever\'  side, 
He  rests  secure  in  God. 

3  He  feeds  in  pastures  large  and  fair 
Of  love  and  truth  divine  ; 

O  child  of  God,  O  glory's  heir! 
How  rich  a  lot  is  thine! 

4  A  hand  almighty  to  defend, 
An  ear  for  every  call, 

An  honored  life,  a  peaceful  end. 
And  heaven  to  crown  it  all ! 

In  the  English  Hymns  Samuel  Willoughby 
Duffield  makes  an  exquisitely  appropriate 
reference  in  his  annotation  upon  this  piece, 
written  by  Rev.  Henr\'  Francis  Lyte :  "  There 
is  a  painting  by  Landseer,  called  '  The  Sanc- 
tuary.' The  deer  are  gathered  by  deep,  clear 
waters,  peacefully  lying  in  a  Highland  glen. 
Around  are  the  great  rocks,  and  the  herd  are 
cropping  the  abundant  pasture  or  resting  at 
ease.  There  is  no  trouble  in  the  air  and  no 
lack  of  any  supply.  Thus  it  is  with  God's 
bounty  :  '  green  pastures,'  '  still  waters,'  '  mu- 
nitions of  rocks,'  '  none  to  molest  or  to  make 
afraid.'  "  It  is  likely  that  the  author  under- 
stood this  was  a  paraphrase,  very  free  indeed, 
of  Psalm  91,  but  he  included  it  in  his  Spirit 
of  the  Psalms,  1 834. 


846  The  Covenant.  C.  M. 

Mv  God,  the  covenant  of  thy  love 

Abides  for  ever  sure; 
And  in  its  matchless  grace  I  feel 

My  happiness  secure. 

2  Since  thou,  the  everlasting  God, 
My  Father  art  become, 

Jesus  my  Guardian  and  my  Friend, 
And  heaven  my  final  home. — 

3  I  welcome  all  thy  sovereign  will. 
For  all  that  will  is  love ; 

And  when  I  know  not  what  thou  dost, 
I  wait  the  light  above. 

In  Dr.  Philip  Doddridge's  Hymns,  1755, 
C.  M.  this  is  found  as  No.  21.  It  bears  the  inscrip- 
tion, "  Support  in  God's  Covenant  under  Do- 
mestic Troubles."  The  text  is  added,  II. 
Samuel  23  :  5.  The  saint  deals  with  the  Sa- 
viour in  the  spirit  of  intense  individualism. 
Each  believer  needed  a  whole  atonement  and 
an  entire  Redeemer  at  the  beginning ;  and  he 


364 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


needs  exactly  the  same  unto  the  extreme  end. 
And  the  purpose  of  all  discipline,  the  solitary 
aim,  is  the  "  perfecting  of  our  faith."  Through 
all  the  days  and  hours  of  our  sojourning  here, 
be  they  few  or  many,  the  work  of  moulding 
our  character  goes  on.  All  the  providences 
which  any  believer  meets  are  strokes  of  tools 
that  are  fitting  him  for  a  place  in  the  spiritual 
temple  of  the  redeemed.  Says  a  quaint  old 
divine,  "  All  the  carvings  of  heaven  are  made 
out  of  knots ;  the  temple  of  God  is  a  cedar 
one,  but  the  cedars  were  all  gnarly  trees  be- 
fore he  cut  them  down."  Earthly  perplexity 
is  therefore  a  heavenly  discipline. 

847  Adoption.  C.  M. 

My  Father,  God  !  how  sweet  the  sound  ! 

How  tender  and  how  dear  ! 
Not  all  the  melody  of  heaven 

Could  so  delight  the  ear. 

2  Come,  sacred  Spirit,  seal  the  name 
On  my  expanding  heart ; 

And  show  that  in  Jehovah's  grace 
I  share  a  filial  part. 

3  Cheered  by  a  signal  so  divine. 
Unwavering  I  believe ; 

My  spirit  Abba,  Father  !  cries. 
Nor  can  the  sign  deceive. 

Another  of  Dr.  Philip  Doddridge's  Hymns, 
1755.  It  began  in  his  manuscript  with  the 
line,  "  Sovereign  of  all  the  worlds  on  high," 
and  consisted  of  five  stanzas.  The  title  of  it 
was,  "  Adoption  argued  from  a  filial  temper," 
and  it  followed  a  sermon  on  Galatians  4 : 6. 
In  the  Hymns  issued  after  the  poet's  decease, 
the  title  was,  "  A  filial  temper  the  work  of 
the  Spirit,  and  a  proof  of  adoption." 


848 


"  The  burden  rolled  away." 


P.M. 


1  LEFT  it  all  with  Jesus  long  ago, 

All  my  sins  I  brought  him  and  my  woe ; 
When  by  faith  I  saw  him  on  the  tree, 
Heard  his  small,  still  whisper,  "  'T  is  for  thee," 
From  my  heart  the  burden  rolled  away  ! 
Happy  day. 

2  I  leave  it  all  with  Jesus,  for  he  knows 
How  to  steal  the  bitter  from  life's  woes ; 
How  to  gild  the  tear-drop  with  his  smile, 
Make  the  desert  garden  bloom  awhile : 
When  my  weakness  leaneth  on  his  might, 

All  seems  light. 

3  I  leave  it  all  with  Jesus  day  by  day  ; 
Faith  can  firmly  trust  him,  come  what  may. 
Hope  has  dropped  her  anchor,  found  her  rest. 
In  the  calm  sure  haven  of  his  breast ; 

Love  esteems  it  heaven  to  abide 
At  his  side. 

In  many  English  collections  this  hymn  is 
anonymous ;  but  the  name  of  Miss  Ellen  H. 
Willis  is  appended  to  it  in  the  Gospel  Songs  of 
Bliss  and  Sankey,  whence  it  is  taken.  The 
piece  has  become  justly  popular,  for  it  voices 
the  Christian's  confidence  in  God's  unfailing 
watchfulness  over  his  children.  We  recall  the 


old  story  of  Bunyan's  Pilgrim  :  "  I  saw  in  my 
dream  that  the  highway  up  w'hich  Christian 
was  to  go  was  fenced  on  either  side  with  a 
wall,  and  that  wall  was  called  Salvation.  (Is. 
26 :  I .)  Up  this  >vay  therefore  did  burdened 
Christian  run,  but  not  without  great  difficulty, 
because  of  the  load  on  his  back.  He  ran  thus 
till  he  came  at  a  place  somewhat  ascending, 
and  upon  that  place  stood  a  cross,  and  a  little 
below,  in  the  bottom,  a  sepulcher.  So  I  saw 
in  my  dream,  that  just  as  Christian  came  up 
with  the  cross,  his  burden  loosed  from  off  his 
shoulders,  and  fell  from  off  his  back,  and  be- 
gan to  tumble,  and  so  continued  to  do,  till  it 
came  to  the  mouth  of  the  sepulcher,  where  it 
fell  in,  and  I  saw  it  no  more.  Then  was  Chris- 
tian glad  and  lightsome,  and  said,  with  a  merry 
heart,  '  He  hath  given  me  rest  by  his  sorrow, 
and  life  by  his  death.'  " 

849  "Full  Salvation."  P.  M. 

1  AM  trusting  thee.  Lord  Jesus, 

Trusting  only  thee ! 
Trusting  thee  for  full  salvation. 
Great  and  free. 

2  I  am  trusting  thee  for  pardon, 

.\t  thy  feet  I  bow ; 
For  thy  grace  and  tender  mercy. 
Trusting  now. 

3  I  am  trusting  thee  for  cleansing 

In  the  crimson  flood  ; 
Trusting  thee  to  make  me  holy 
By  thy  blood. 

4  I  am  trusting  thee  to  guide  me ; 

Thou  alone  shalt  lead. 
Every  day  and  hour  supplying 
All  my  need. 

5  I  am  trusting  thee  for  power. 

Thine  can  never  fail ; 
Words  which  thou  thyself  shalt  give  me 
Must  prevail. 

6  I  am  trusting  thee.  Lord  Jesus  ; 

Never  let  me  fall ; 
I  am  trusting  thee  for  ever. 
And  for  all. 

This  is  found  in  Miss  Frances  Ridley  Hav- 
ergal's  Loyal  Responses,  1878.  It  was  writ- 
ten at  Ormont  Dessons,  September,  1 874.  It 
was  noted  by  herself  as  her  "  own  favorite," 
and  was  found  in  her  pocket  Bible  after  her 
death.  Such  a  poem  makes  an  impression 
upon  an  invalid  who  reads  it  very  like  that  of 
a  visit  from  the  gifted  authoress  in  person. 
She  was  the  happiest  creature  in  the  world, 
though  she  was  ill  and  failing  all  the  time. 
She  never  rebelled  nor  repined.  Some  per- 
sons are  ver>'  hard  to  take  care  of  when  they 
are  ill.  Murmuring  is  a  most  unwelcome 
indulgence.  It  easily  becomes  chronic,  and 
then  it  makes  us  think  of  the  verse  in  Leviti- 
cus (14  :  35) :  "And  he  that  owneth  the  house 
shall  come  and  tell  the  priest,  saying.  It 
seemeth  to  me  there  is  as  it  were  a  plague  in 


PRIVILEGES   OK    BELIEVERS. 


365 


the  house."  It  prejudices  piety.  It  makes  a 
Christian  disagreeable.  In  an  old  volume  of 
The  Spectator  Addison  has  recorded  this  : 
*'An  aged  gentlewoman,  whom  I  shall  con- 
ceal under  the  name  of  Nemesis,  is  the  great- 
est discoverer  of  judgments  I  have  met  with. 
She  can  tell  you  what  sin  it  was  that  set  such 
a  man's  house  on  fire,  or  blew  down  his 
barns.  She  has  a  crime  for  every  misfortune 
that  can  befall  any  of  her  acquaintances. 
But  when  she  hears  of  a  robbery  that  has 
been  made,  or  a  murder  that  has  been  com- 
mitted, she  enlarges  more  on  the  guilt  of  the 
sufferer  than  on  that  of  the  thief  or  the  as- 
sassin. In  short,  she  is  so  good  a  Christian 
that  whatever  happens  to  herself  is  a  trial, 
and  whatever  happens  to  her  neighbors  is  a 
judgment." 

850  Hiding-place.  C.  M.  D. 

Thou  art  my  hiding-place,  O  Lord  ! 

In  thee  I  put  my  trust ; 
Encouraged  by  thy  holy  word, 

A  feeble  child  of  dust : 

1  have  no  argument  beside, 
I  urge  no  other  plea  ; 

And  't  is  enough  my  Saviour  died. 
My  Saviour  died  for  me! 

2  When  storms  of  fierce  temptation  beat, 
And  furious  foes  assail, 

My  refuge  is  the  mercy-seat, 

My  hope  within  the  vail : 
From  strife  of  tongues,  and  bitter  words, 

My  spirit  flies  to  thee; 
Joy  to  my  heart  the  thought  affords, 

My  Saviour  died  for  me  ! 

3  And  when  thine  awful  voice  commands 
This  body  to  decay, 

And  life  in  its  last  Hngering  sands 

Is  ebbing  fast  away — 
Then,  though  it  be  in  accents  weak. 

My  voice  shall  call  on  thee. 
And  ask  for  strength  in  death  to  speak, 

"  My  Saviour  died  for  me." 

In  1805,  among  the  parishioners  of  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Collyer,  was  a  young  man  in  whom  his 
pastor  took  a  deep  interest,  and  who  after- 
wards became  a  noted  Congregational  minis- 
ter. He  was  Rev.  Thomas  Raffles.  D.  D., 
LL.  D.,born  at  Spitalfields,  London,  May  17, 
.1788.  At  first  he  was  a  clerk  in  Doctors' 
Commons ;  but  through  the  influence  of  Dr. 
Collyer  he  entered  Homerton  College,  and 
began  his  preparation  for  the  ministry.  He 
was  ordained  and  began  to  preach  at  Ham- 
mersmith, June  22,  1809;  but  after  three 
years  went  to  Liverpool  in  response  to  the 
call  of  the  Great  George  Street  Congrega- 
tional Church.  Forty-nine  years  of  useful- 
ness and  honor  were  granted  to  him  in  this 
field  ;  then  he  departed  to  his  reward,  Au- 
gust 18,  1863.  Dr.  Raffles'  name  was 
well    known    to    the    literary  world  of    his 


day,  both  as  an  author  and  as  an  editor  ; 
and  many  of  his  hymns  are  in  use  in  our 
churches.  The  one  we  quote  is  dated,  "  Burn- 
ley, June  23,  1833,"  and  in  the  original  had 
four  eight-line  stanzas. 

351  Union  to  Christ .  C.  M.  D. 

Lord  Jesus,  are  we  one  with  thee? 

Oh,  height  !  oh,  depth  of  love  ! 
With  thee  we  died  upon  the  tree, 

In  thee  we   live  above. 
Such  was  thy  grace,  that  for  our  sake 

Thou  didst  from  heaven  come  down. 
Thou  didst  of  flesh  and  blood  partake, 

In  all  our  sorrows  one. 

2  Our  sins,  our  guilt,  in  love  divine. 
Confessed  and  borne  by  thee; 

The  gall,  the  curse,  the  wrath,  were  thine, 

To  set  thy  members  free. 
Ascended  now,  in  glory  bright. 

Still  one  with  us  thou  art : 
Nor  life,  nor  death,  nor  depth,  nor  height, 

Thy  saints  and  thee  can  part. 

3  Oh,  teach  us.  Lord,  to  know  and  own 
This  wondrous  mystery. 

That  thou  with  us  art  truly  one, 

And  we  are  one  with  thee ! 
Soon,  soon  shall  come  that  glorious  day, 

When,  seated  on  thy  throne, 
Thou  shalt  to  wondering  worlds  display 

That  thou  with  us  art  one. 

This  is  one  of  the  contributions  made  by 
Rev.  James  George  Deck  to  the  Psabns  and 
Hymns,  1855,  of  his  brother-in-law,  Dr. 
Walker.  It  is  entitled,  "  One  with  Christ." 
The  secret  of  all  true  repose  is  found  in  the 
consciousness  of  an  actual  union  with  our 
Lord.  "  I  in  them,  and  thou  in  me,"  said 
Jesus  in  that  intercessory  prayer.  Try  to  feel 
the  fullness  of  the  words,  John  17:  20-23. 
As  one  of  our  American  liners  was  crossing 
the  Atlantic,  during  a  terrific  gale,  the  cry 
was  raised — "  Man  overboard  !"  It  was  im- 
possible to  put  up  the  helm  of  the  ship  on  ac- 
count of  the  violence  of  the  hurricane,  but 
one  of  the  crew  instantly  seized  a  rope  having 
a  loop  at  the  end,  'and  threw  it  over  the  stern, 
crying  out,  "  Lay  hold  for  your  life  !"  Pas- 
sengers and  crew  had  crowded  together  at 
the  stern,  but  the  rolling  waves  and  blinding 
spray  prevented  them  from  seeing  the  drown- 
ing sailor.  The  captain  cried  out,  "  Have  you 
got  hold  of  the  rope  }"  and  the  reply  came, 
"  No,  but  the  rope  has  got  hold  of  me."  The 
sailor  when  he  caught  the  rope  had  passed 
the  loop  over  his  shoulders  and  under  his 
arms,  and  though  too  fatigued  to  hold  on  to 
the  rope,  the  loop  kept  him  from  sinking. 

852  Grace.  S.  M. 

Grace  !  't  is  a  charming  sound  ! 

Harmonious  to  mine  ear  ! 
Heaven  with  the  echo  shall  resound, 

And  all  the  earth  shall  hear. 


366 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


2  Grace  first  contrived  a  way 
To  save  rebellious  man  ; 

And  all  the  steps  that  grace  display 
Which  drew  the  wondrous  plan. 

3  Grace  led  my  roving  feet 
To  tread  the' heavenly  road  ; 

And  new  supplies  each  hour  1  meet 
While  pressing  on  to  God. 

4  Grace  all  the  work  shall  crown, 
Through  everlasting  days ; 

It  lays  in  heaven  the  topmost  stone 
Aiid  well  deserves  the  praise. 

This  familiar  poem  first  appeared  in  Rev. 
Dr.  Philip  Doddridge's  posthumous  Hymns, 
1755,  and  differed  but  slightly  from  the  pres- 
ent version.  In  the  course  of  its  wide  use  by 
churches  of  various  denominations  it  was  con- 
siderably altered,  and  many  forms  of  it  are  to 
be  found.  Some  lovers  of  the  hymn  have  been 
troubled  because  of  a  grammatical  question 
which  has  suggested  itself  to  their  minds. 
The  third  line  of  the  last  verse  is,  "  It  lays  in 
heaven  the  topmost  stone,"  and  the  objection 
is  urged  that  "  lays  "  is  a  transitive  verb,  and 
if  its  use  is  required,  "  stone  "  is  its  object. 
The  line  according  to  these  querists  should 
read,  "  It  (g^ace)  lies  in  heaven  the  topmost 
stone."  It  seems  to  us,  however,  that  Dr. 
Doddridge  is  alluding  to  Zechariah  4:7,  where 
we  read :  "  And  he  shall  bring  forth  the  head- 
stone thereof  with  shoutings,  crying,  Grace, 
grace  unto  it."  Each  verse  describes  some 
work  which  grace  has  done  :  it  contrived  the 
way,  it  taught  my  feet,  it  drew  the  plan,  and 
it  shall  crown  the  work  by  "  laying  "  the  top- 
most stone  in  heaven. 

853  God  our  Father.  S.  M. 

Here  I  can  firmly  rest ; 

I  dare  to  boast  of  this, 
That  God,  the  highest  and  the  best. 

My  Friend  and  Father  is. 

2  Naught  have  I  of  my  own, 
Naught  in  the  life  I  lead  ; 

What  Christ  hath  given,  that  alone 
I  dare  in  faith  to  plfead. 

3  I  rest  upon  the  ground 
Of  Jesus  and  his  blood ; 

It  is  through  him  that  I  have  found 
My  soul's  eternal  good. 

4  .^t  cost  of  all  I  have, 
W.  cost  of  life  and  limb, 

I  cling  to  God  who  yet  shall  save ; 
I  will  not  turn  from  him. 

5  His  Spirit  in  me  dwells, 
O'er  all  my  mind  he  reigns  ; 

My  care  and  sadness  he  dispels, 
And  soothes  away  my  pains. 

6  He  prospers  day  by  day 
His  work  within  my  heart. 

Till  I  have  strength  and  faith  to  say, 
"Thou,  God,  my  Father  art !" 

Rev.  Paul  Gerhardt  was  the  author  of  the 
original  German  hymn,  "'1st  Got t  fur  vtich,  so 


tretc."  It  was  based  upon  Romans  S  :  31-39. 
Miss  Catharine  Winkworth  gave  us  this  trans- 
lation of  it.  The  entire  version  may  be  found 
\n  Lyra  Germanica,  First  Series,  1855.  ^he 
sentiment  here  is  unmistakable,  (iod  himself 
charges  that  we  are  rebellious  sinners,  and 
our  hearts  accept  the  sense  of  guilt.  The 
apostle  John  says  that  there  is  no  use  in  try- 
iog  to  deny  such  an  impeachment.  If  we  re- 
fuse to  admit  it,  we  are  liars  ourselves,  and 
are  attempting  to  show  that  God  is  also.  "  But 
if  we  walk  in  the  light,  as  he  is  in  the  light,  we 
have  fellowship  one  with  another,  and  the  blood 
of  Jesus  Christ  his  Son  cleanseth  us  from  all 
sin." 

Scholars  tell  us  that  throughout  the  Peshito 
Syriac  version  of  the  Scriptures,  deemed 
among  the  most  primitive  and  intelligent, 
"  salvation  "  is  in  all  cases  rendered  "  life  ;" 
the  saved  are  called  the  living  or  the  alive  ; 
the  Saviour  bears  the  name  of  Mahyono,  or 
the  life-giver.  In  all  this  there  is  a  proper 
recognition  of  our  owing  everything  to  Jesus 
Christ,  our  surety.  We  are  dead  in  tres- 
passes and  in  sins,  but  our  life  is  hid  with 
Christ  in  God.  "  To  be  awakened,"  wisely 
said  McCheyne,  "  we  need  to  know  our  own 
hearts ;  to  be  saved,  we  need  to  know  the 
heart  of  Jesus  Christ."  Christ  is,  therefore,  a 
perfect  Saviour.  Our  relief  is  not  found  m 
denying  sin,  but  in  accepting  him  as  our  Re- 
deemer from  it.  If  we  plead  not  guilty,  we 
do  not  tell  the  truth.  "And  if  any  man  sin, 
we  have  an  advocate  with  the  Father,  Jesus 
Christ  the  righteous :  and  he  is  the  propitia- 
tion for  our  sins :  and  not  for  ours  only,  but 
also  for  the  sins  of  the  whole  world." 

854  "U  is  weUr  S.  M. 

What  cheering  words  are  these  ; 

Their  sweetness  who  can  tell  ? 
In  time,  and  to  eternal  days, 

"  'T  is  with  the  righteous  well !" 

2  Well  when  they  see  his  face, 

.Or  sink  amidst  the  flood ;  .^ 

Well  in  affliction's  thorny  maze. 
Or  on  the  mount  with  God. 

3  'T  is  well  when  joys  arise, 

'T  is  well  when  sorrows  flow, 
'T  is  well  when  darkness  vails  the  skies 
And  strong  temptations  grow. 

4  'T  is  well  when  Jesus  calls — 
"  From  earth  and  sin  arise, 

To  join  the  hosts  of  ransomed  souls, 
Made  to  salvation  wise !" . 

John  Kent,  author  of  this  hymn,  was  a 
shipwright,  born  at  Bideford,  Devonshire, 
England,  December,  1766,  and  died  Novem- 
ber 15,  1843.  Naturally  his  occupation  pre- 
cluded the  possibility  of  much  study  or  self- 
culture,  but  we   learn  that   he   was  always 


PRIVILEGES   OF    BELIEVERS. 


367 


thoughtful  and  earnest,  a  thorough  Christian, 
and  fond  of  books.  He  began  to  write  verse 
while  but  a  lad,  and  in  1803,  when  his  Collec- 
tion of  Original  Gospel  Hymns  was  published, 
it  contained  nearly  three  hundred  of  his 
poems.  All  his  work  is  characterized  by 
simplicity  and  directness,  and  his  pieces  are 
in  constant  use  in  the  churches  of  Great 
Britain  and  America.  The  one  before  us 
bears  date,  1803. 

855  Adoption.  S.  M. 

Behold  !  what  wondrous  grace 

The  Father  has  bestowea 
On  sinners  of  a  mortal  race. 

To  call  them  sons  of  God ! 

2  Nor  doth  it  yet  appear 

How  great  we  must  be  made; 
But  when  we  see  our  Saviour  here, 
We  shall  be  like  our  Head. 

3  A  hope  so  much  divine 
May  trials  well  endure, 

May  pur^e  our  souls  from  sense  and  sin, 
As  Christ  the  Lord  is  pure. 

4  If  in  my  Father's  love 
I  share  a  filial  part. 

Send  down  thy  Spirit,  like  a  dove. 
To  rest  upon  my  heart. 

5  We  would  no  longer  lie 

Like  slaves  beneath  the  throne ; 
Our  faith  shall  Abba,  Father,  cry, 
And  thou  the  kindred  own. 

One  of  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  most  familiar  com- 
positions. It  is  given  in  his  Works  at  the 
close  of  a  sermon  on  I.  John  3:1,  associated 
with  Galatians  4:6.  In  his  Hymns  it  is  No. 
64  of  Book  I.  It  needs  no  comment  beyond 
the  choicely  worded  statement  of  the  old 
Westminster  standard :  "All  those  that  are 
justified,  God  vouchsafeth,  in  and  for  his  only 
.Son  Jesus  Christ,  to  make  partakers  of  the 
grace  of  adoption :  by  which  they  are  taken 
into  the  number  and  enjoy  the  liberties  and 
privileges  of  the  children  of  God  ;  have  his 
name  put  upon  them  ;  receive  the  Spirit  of 
adoption  ;  have  access  to  the  throne  of  grace 
with  boldness ;  are  enabled  to  cry,  Abba,  Fa- 
ther ;  are  pitied,  protected,  provided  for  and 
chastened  by  him  as  by  a  father,  yet  never 
cast  oft,  but  sealed  to  the  day  of  redemption, 
and  inherit  the  promises,  as  heirs  of  everlast- 
ing salvation." 

856  Peace. 

Thou  very  present  Aid 

In  suffering  and  distress, 
The  mind  which  still  on  thee  is  stayed 

Is  kept  in  perfect  peace. 

2  The  soul  by  faith  reclined 
On  the  Redeemer's  breast, 

'Mid  raging  storms  exults  to  find 
An  everlasting  rest. 

3  Sorrow  and  fear  are  gone 
Whene'er  thy  face  appears  ; 

It  stills  the  sighing  orphan's  moan. 
And  dries  the  widow's  tears. 


'  4  Jesus,  to  whom  I  fly, 

Doth  all  my  wishes  fill  ; 
What  though  created  streams  are  dry? 
I  have  the  fountain  still. 

5  Stripped  of  each  earthly  friend, 

I  find  them  all  in  One, 
And  peace  and  joy  which  never  end. 

And  heaven,  ni  Christ,  alone. 

This  poem,  by  Rev.  Charles  Wesley,  first 
appeared  in  Hymns  and  Sacred  Poems,  1 749. 
It  is  one  of  several  pieces  entitled  "  Hymns 
for  Widows,"  and  it  expresses  the  unwaver- 
ing tranquillity  in  which  a  mind  stayed  on 
Christ  will  rejoice,  even  in  the  time  of  great 
afflictions.  It  is  interesting,  in  this  connec- 
tion, to  read  what  Rev.  John  Wesley  said  of 
his  brother's  hymn.  "  If  it  please  God  to 
continue  the  life  of  any  of  his  servants,  he 
will  suspend  any  law  of  nature ;  the  stone 
shall  not  fall ;  the  fire  shall  not  burn ;  the 
floods  shall  not  flow ;  or  he  will  give  his 
angels  charge,  and  in  their  hands  shall  they 
bear  him  up,  through  and  above  all  dangers  !" 
We  are  not  only  forbidden  to  take  anxious 
thought  for  the  morrow,  we  are  to  leave  that 
care  to  God,  and  be  grateful  to  him  for  his 
mercy  in  the  past  and  his  promise  for  the 
future.  "  Be  careful  for  nothing  "  is  the  en- 
couraging admonition  of  inspired  Scripture; 
"  but  in  everything  by  prayer  and  supplica- 
tion, with  thatiksgivitig,  let  your  requests  be 
made  known  unto  God."  It  is  only  a  mere 
brute's  heart  which  rests  satisfied  with  the 
acorns  that  feed  its  gluttony,  with  never  a 
grateful  look  upward  into  the  branches  of  the 
generous  oak  from  which  they  drop.  One 
motto  will  in  almost  all  cases  bring  cheer  and 
comfort  to  believing  hearts  in  this  world  of 
worry  and  complaining :  "  Count  up  your 
mercies." 


857  "  My  springs  in  thee."  L.  M. 

Fountain  of  grace,  rich,  full,  and  free. 
What  need  I  that  is  not  in  thee? 
Full  pardon,  strength  to  meet  the  day. 
And  peace  which  none  can  take  away. 

2  Doth  sickness  fill  my  heart  with  fear, 
'T  is  sweet  to  know  that  thou  art  near  ; 
Am  I  with  dread  of  justice  tried, 
'T  is  sweet  to  know  that  Christ  hath  died. 

3  In  life,  thy  promises  of  aid 
Forbid  my  heart  to  be  afraid  ; 

g  w  In  death,  peace  gently  vails  tlie  eyes — 

Christ  rose,  and  I  shall  surely  rise. 

This  hymn,  credited  to  Rev.  James  Edmes- 
ton,  is  not  noticed  by  Samuel  W.  Duffield  at 
all ;  nor  does  it  appear  in  the  Dictionary  of 
Hymnology.  The  compiler  of  Laudes  Domini 
found  it,  many  years  ago,  in  the  Plymouth 
Collection,  and  thought  it  very  beautiful.  The 
sentiment  of  it  is  as  cheering  as  it  is  essen- 
tially Christian.  We  hear  it  said  over  and 
over  that  piety  is  a  most    suspicious   and 


368 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


doubtful  gift,  for  it  keeps  one  always  thinking 
of  death,  and  dolefully  walking  among  tomb- 
stones. Alas,  for  the  candor  and  honesty  of 
an  objection  like  this  upon  the  lips  of  a  poor 
world  that  is  dying — dying,  and  knows  it  in 
every  fiber  of  its  being,  and  never  for  one 
moment  can  relieve  itself  of  its  inveterate 
shudder!  Habiliments  of  mourning  are  ac- 
tually in  or  out  of  fashion.  We  saw  that  on 
a  sign  in  the  street.  Cerements  and  coffins, 
as  well  as  gravestones  and  shrouds,  are  sold 
publicly  on  the  avenues.  Caskets  for  children, 
biers  for  trains  on  foot,  black  carriages  for 
first-class  funerals,  self-sealing,  lead-lined 
boxes  for  transport,  all  are  duly  advertised 
at  regular  competition  charges.  Nay,  more ; 
coffins  and  shrouds  are  kept  on  sale  ready- 
made,  with  a  kind  of  horrible  anticipation  of 
some  one's  ultimate  need,  to  save  the  under- 
taker from  failure  in  business !  And  yet  a 
ribald  world  reproaches  piety  with  making 
people  think  of  death  1  What  is  the  world 
itself  thinking  of,  we  should  like  to  know  ? 

Religion,  meanwhile,  stands  on  the  corners 
of  the  streets  where  the  funerals  are  passing 
by,  urges  up  close  upon  the  brink  of  the 
grave  when  the  coffin  is  lowered,  comes  back 
to  the  broken  home  of  the  mourner,  every- 
where singing  with  cheerful  heart :  "  Christ 
rose,  and  I  shall  surely  rise!"  Piety  does 
make  one  think  of  death,  but  only  by  remind- 
ing us  of  death's  Destroyer,  by  recounting 
how  Immanuel  broke  the  iron  of  the  grave 
asunder.  The  gospel  opens  the  great  doors 
of  the  future.  It  bids  us  look  out  of  the 
night  into  the  light.  It  joins  us  to  the  good 
and  the  holy.  It  tells  us  where  are  the 
friends  we  have  buried.  It  assures  us  we 
shall  meet  them  again,  and  shall  know  them 
as  before,  and  shall  evermore  abide  with 
them  in  the  unbroken  home. 

858  Jesus  is  for  ever  mine.  L.  M. 

When  sins  anji  fears,  prevailing;,  rise, 

And  fainting  hope  almost  expires, 
To  thee,  O  Lord,  I  lift  my  eyes : 

To  thee  I  breathe  my  soul's  desires. 

2  Art  thou  not  mine,  my  living  Lord  ? 
And  can  my  hope,  my  comfort  die? 

'T  is  fixed  on  thine  almightv  word- 
That  word  which  built  the  earth  and  sky. 

3  If  my  immortal  Saviour  lives, 
Then  my  immortal  life  is  sure; 

His  word  a  firm  foundation  gives ; 
Here  may  I  build  and  rest  secure. 

4  Here,  O  my  soul,  thy  trust  repose; 
If  Jesus  is  for  ever  mine, 

Not  death  itself— that  last  of  foes- 
Shall  break  a  union  so  divine. 

This  piece  by  Miss  Anne  Steele  first  ap- 
peared in  her  Poems  ofi  Subjects  Chiefly  De- 
votional, 1760,  with  the  title  "  Christ  the  Life 


of  the  Soul."  Its  central  thought,  that  our 
happiness  and  faith  in  this  world  are  bound 
up  in  Christ's  promise  never  to  forsake  us,  is 
one  that  should  lead  us  to  cultivate  a  deter- 
minate hopefulness.  There  is  not  the  least 
measure  of  grace  in  a  lackadaisical  melan 
choly  of  spiritual  life.  It  is  not  even  humil- 
ity. We  are  all  creatures  of  habit.  We  can 
keep  complaining  and  rehearsing  ailments  till 
we  become  as  hypochondriac  in  piety  as  in 
anything  else.  Greatheart  told  his  friend 
Honest  that  Mr.  Fearing  "  had  a  Slough  of 
Despond  in  his  mind,  a  slough  that  he  car- 
ried everywhere  with  him."  Surely  there  is 
no  beauty  nor  profit  in  this.  Be  cheerful ; 
look  for  the  lining  in  the  clouds.  Remember 
every  success.  Forget  failures.  Answer  one 
plain  question  now :  What  sort  of  work 
would  it  make  with  you  if  you  prayed  with 
the  Psalmist — "  Let  thy  mercy,  O  Lord,  be 
upon  us,  according  as  we  hope  in  thee  !" 


859 


"  Complete  in  Him.'''  L.  ^ 

Mv  soul  complete  in  Jesus  stands! 
It  fears  no  more  the  law's  demands; 
The  smile  of  God  is  sweet  within, 
Where  all  before  was  guilt  and  sin. 

2  My  soul  at  rest  in  Jesus  lives: 
Accepts  the  peace  his  pardon  gives  ; 
Receives  the  grace  his  death  secured, 
And  pleads  the  anguish  he  endured. 

3  My  soul  its  everj'  foe  defies, 
And  cries — 'T  is  God  that  justifies ! 
Who  charges  God's  elect  with  sin? 

Shall  Christ,  who  died  their  peace  to  win? 

4  A  song  of  praise  my  soul  shall  sing 
To  our  eternal,  glorious  King! 
Shall  worship  humbly  at  his  feet, 

In  whom  alone  it  stands  complete. 


GRACE  WEBSTER   HINSDALE. 

With  the  birthright  of  an  ancestry  distin- 
guished and  beloved,  Grace  Webster  Hins- 
dale came  into  this  world.     Her  father.  Pro- 


PRIVILEGES  OF   BELIEVERS. 


369 


fessor  Charles  B.  Haddock,  D.  D.,  a  nephew 
of  the  eminent  jurist  and  statesman  Daniel 
Webster.was  for  thirty-five  years  in  Dartmouth 
College,  Professor  of'  Intellectual  i-'hilosophy, 
Political  Economy,  Oratory,  and  Belles  Let- 
tres.  A  picture  of  Professor  Haddock  shows 
a  striking  resemblance  to  Daniel  Webster. 
The  two  men  were  much  together  and  their 
friendship  was  like  that  of  brothers.  Indeed, 
there  existed  between  them  a  deep  reciprocal 
sympathy  which  relationship  cannot  always 
bestow. 

This  child  of  the  covenant  became  an  en- 
thusiastic and  resolute  child  of  grace  at  the 
early  age  of  seventeen,  and  the  very  next  year 
was  married  to  Theodore  Hinsdale,  Esq.,  a 
lawyer  of  distinguished  ability  and  unblem- 
ished character,  who  practised  in  his  profes- 
sion for  over  forty  years  in  New  York  City, 
residing  however  in  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  She  was 
born  in  Hanover,  N.  H.,  May  17,  1833.  Her 
honored  husband  was  taken  from  her  by  death 
in  1880.  Since  this  bereavement  she  has  quietly 
lived  in  Brooklyn  with  her  children.  This 
hymn,  with  some  others  of  real  merit,  was  first 
published  in  Songs  for  the  Sanctuary,  1865. 

In  1867  Mrs.  Hinsdale  traveled  abroad  and 
gathered  much  food  for  thought  and  new  in- 
spirations. Some  of  her  earliest  productions 
appeared  in  Scribner's  Magazine,  when  it 
was  known  as  Hours  at  Home.  For  more 
than  twenty  years  she  has  been  a  contributor, 
largely  to  religious  journals,  such  as  the  Bos- 
ton Congregationalist ,  the  Independent,  the 
Su)iday  School  Times,  and  the  Christian 
Union.  These  contributions  have  generally 
been  in  the  form  of  verses  ;  but  as  a  writer  of 
short  sketches,  expounding  some  Bible  truth, 
with  added  words  of  advice  or  comfort,  she  is 
very  successful.  She  is  the  author  also  of  two 
books.  Coming  to  the  King,  and  Thinking 
Aloud,  published  by  A.  D.  F.  Randolph  & 
Co.,  New  York,  and  afterward  republished  in 
London  by  Strahan.  It  is  as  a  contributor  to 
literature  of  a  devotional  character  that  Mrs. 
Hinsdale  is  best  known.  Her  hymns  are  char- 
acterized by  a  depth  of  earnestness,  a  truly  re- 
ligious motive  distinguishing  them  from  much 
light  literature  of  hymnody  born  within  the 
last  few  years. 

860  II.  Cor.  12:9.  L.  M. 

Let  me  but  hear  my  Saviour  say, 
"  Strength  shall  be  equal  to  thy  day ;" 
Then  I  rejoice  in  deep  distress, 
Leaning  on  all-sufficient  grace. 

2  I  can  do  all  things — or  can  bear 
All  suffering,  if  my  Lord  be  there ; 
Sweet  pleasures  mingle  with  the  pains, 
While  he  my  sinking  head  sustains. 


3  I  glory  in  infirmity, 
That  Christ's  own  power  may  rest  on  me : 
When  I  am  weak,  then  am  I  strong; 
Grace  is  my  shield,  and  Christ  my  song. 

The  whole  story  of  the  apostle  Paul's  "  thorn 
in  the  flesh"  is  in  this  little  hymn.  It  is  No. 
15  of  Book  I.  Dr.  Isaac  Watts  annexed  it  to 
a  sermon  on  II.  Corinthians  12:7-10,  calling 
it,  "  Our  own  Weakness,  and  Christ  our 
Strength."  Of  course  there  have  always  been 
questions  concerning  this  passage.  Begin 
with  the  fact  that  Paul  had  a  great  trouble, 
some  physical  distemper  or  disability,  which 
he  prayed  might  be  removed.  But  he  received 
in  reply  to  his  petitions  the  assurance  that 
more  grace  would  come  to  him  to  bear  it,  but 
he  must  expect  its  continuance.  Our  curiosity 
is  piqued  to  know  what  this  infliction  was ; 
but  only  hints  are  given  us  to  guess  by.  He 
seems  to  have  written  his  epistles  always  by 
the  assistance  of  another ;  yet  he  generally 
adds  a  sort  of  subscription  or  indorsement  of 
his  own  :  "  The  salutation  of  Paul  with  mine 
own  hand,  which  is  the  token  in  every  epistle  : 
so  I  write."  See  II.  Thess.  3:17-  This  in- 
timates that  the  act  of  making  manuscript 
was  for  some  reason  hard  to  him.  In  the 
Epistle  to  the  Galatians  (4:13-15)  he  actually 
thanks  his  friends  for  the  forbearance  they 
have  shown  him.  "  Ye  know  how  through 
infirmity  of  the  flesh  I  preached  the  gospel 
unto  you  at  the  first.  And  my  temptation 
which  was  in  my  flesh  ye  despised  not,  nor 
rejected  ;  but  received  me  as  an  angel  of  God, 
even  as  Christ  Jesus.  Where  is  then  the  bles- 
sedness ye  spake  of  ?  for  I  bear  you  record 
that,  if  it  had  been  possible,  ye  would  have 
plucked  out  your  own  eyes  and  have  given 
them  to  me."  Then  at  the  close  (6:11)  he 
adds,  "  Ye  see  how  large  a  letter  I  have  writ- 
ten unto  you  with  mine  own  hand."  In  the 
Greek  this  reads  thus  :  "  with  what  large  let- 
ters." And  the  intimation  is  that  when  he 
put  his  own  hand  to  paper  he  was  obliged  to 
scrawl  with  big  characters  ^o  as  to  see  them 
easily.  And  now  add  to  this  the  fact  that  in 
the  Acts  and  all  through  the  Epistles  the 
Apostle  Paul  is  represented  invariably  as  un- 
der some  sort  of  escort  whenever  he  is  on  his 
journeys,  and  that  at  last  Luke  the  physician 
seems  to  be  his  constant  companion,  and  you 
have  all  there  is  to  make  out  the  case. 

35 1  The  infinite  God,  our  Father.  iis,  los. 

HoLV  and  infinite  !  viewless  !  eternal  1 
Vailed  in  the  glory  that  none  can  sustain. 

None  comprehendeth  thy  being  supernal, 
Nor  can  the  heaven  of  heavens  contain. 

2  Holv  and  infinite !  limitless,  boundless, 
All  thy  perfections,  and  powers,  and  praise ! 

Ocean  of  mystery  !  awful  and  soundless 
All  thine  unsearchable  judgments  and  ways  I 


370 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


3  King;  of  eternity  !  what  revelation 
Could  the  created  and  finite  sustain, 

But  for  thy  marvelous  manifestation, 
Godhead  incarnate  in  weakness  and  pain  ! 

4  Therefore  archangels  and  angels  adore  thee, 
Cherubim  wonder,  and  seraphs  admire  ; 

Therefore  we  praise  thee,  rejoicing  before  thee, 
Joining  in  rapture  the  heavenly. choir. 

5  Glorious  in  holiness,  fearful  in  praises, 

Who  shall  not  fear  thee,  and  who  shall  not  laud  ? 
Anthems  of  glory-  thy  universe  raises. 
Holy  and  infinite  !   Father  and  God  ! 

This  hymn,  written  in  1872,  and  pubHshed 
in  Under  the  Surface,  1874,  well  represents 
one  of  the  early  phases  of  Miss  Frances  Rid- 
ley Havergal's  experience.  She  seems  to 
have  had,  even  from  her  childhood,  deep  reli- 
gious impressions,  but  she  could  fix  no  date 
for  any  positive  conversion.  All  this  time 
her  Maker  seemed  to  her  only  a  "  King  of 
Eternity — vailed. in  the  glory  that  none  can 
sustain."  She  records  in  her  autobiography 
this  mood  of  mind  thus :  "  I  know  I  did  not 
love  God  at  this  time ;  the  very  thought  of 
him  frightened  me ;  but  sometimes  a  feeling 
not  unlike  love  would  make  me  go  to  sleep 
with  a  wet  pillow.  It  would  often  be  thus. 
Going  to  bed  I  would  determine  I  would  try 
to  think  about  God,  hard  as  it  was ;  and  after 
I  lay  down,  as  my  thoughts  did  not  fiow  at 
all  naturally  heavenward  any  more  than  wa- 
ter flows  upward,  I  forced  them  into  a  defi- 
nite channel  by  a  half-whisper.  '  How  good 
it  was  of  God  to  send  Jesus  to  die !'  was  my 
usual  beginning,  while  I  by  no  means  felt  or 
believed  that  wonderful  goodness.  Never- 
theless it  usually  ended  in  my  crying  most 
heartily  because  I  was  so  bad  and  he  was  so 
good,  and  because  I  did  not  and  could  not 
love  him  when  he  even  died  for  sinners." 
The  day  came  when  she  learned  to  see  the 
"  Godhead  incarnate  in  weakness  and  pain  " 
and  know  what  it  meant. 


862 


"All  things  are  ours." 


IIS,  IDS. 


All  things  are  ours  ;  how  abundant  the  treasure, 
All  riches  which  heaven  or  earth  can  aflTord ! 

Oh,  may  our  thanks,  like  his  grace,  without  measure, 
Abound  to  the  glory  and  praise  of  our  Lord  ! 

2  All  things  are  ours ;  be  it  sickness  or  healing, 
'T  is  ordered  alike  for  our  infinite  good  ; 

Determined  by  grace,  and  for  ever  revealing 
This  truth,  that  we  love  and  are  loved  of  our  God. 

3  All  things  are  ours ;  though  the  body  may  perish. 
We  faint  not  to  feel  it  fast  wasting  away ; 

The  soul  its  bright  visions  of  glor>-  will  cherish, 
And  strengthen  in  holiness  day  after  day. 

4  All  things  are  ours  ;  yea,  the  present  affliction. 
Though  now  through  the  gloom  of  mortality  viewed  ; 

For  soon  shall  we  join  in  the  blissful  conviction 
That  thus  it  was  good  to  be  tried  and  subdued. 

5  All  things  are  ours;  thro'  the  Saviour's  great  merit, 
The  shame  of  his  cross,  which  must  needs  be  our  own, 

Will  brighten  the  glory  that  circles  the  spirit, 
And  sparkles  like  gems  in  our  heavenly  crown. 


From  Hymns  and  Sacred  Poetry,  1861, 
published  by  Rev.  James  Holme  and  his  bro- 
ther, Rev.  T.  Holme,  this  piece  is  taken.  It 
was  written  by  the  former,  who  entitled  it, 
"  For  Time  of  Sickness."  The  author  was 
born  in  Orton,  Westmoreland,  England, 
March  12,  1801.  He  studied  at  Caius  Col- 
lege, Cambridge,  graduating  in  1825.  His 
ordination,  which  took  place  that  same  year, 
was  followed  by  his  appointment  to  the  in- 
cumbency of  Low  Harrowgate.  Afterward 
he  became  vicar  of  Kirkleatham,  and  of  Bol- 
ton, near  Bradford.     He  died  in  1882. 

863  Thanks  for  all.  CM. 

0  THOU,  whose  bounty  fills  my  cup 
With  every  blessing  meet  ! 

1  give  thee  thanks  for  every  drop)— 
The  bitter  and  the  sweet. 

2  I  praise  thee  for  the  desert  road. 
And  for  the  river-side ; 

For  all  thy  goodness  hath  bestowed, 
And  all  thy  grace  denied. 

3  I  thank  thee  for  both  smile  and  frown, 
And  for  the  gain  and  loss ; 

I  praise  thee  for  the  future  crown. 
And  for  the  present  cross. 

4  I  thank  thee  for  the  wing  of  love 
Which  stirred  my  worldly  nest. 

And  for  the  stormy  clouds  which  drove 
The  flutterer  to  thy  breast. 

5  I  bless  thee  for  the  glad  increase, 
And  for  the  waning  joy ; 

And  for  this  strange,  this  settled  peace. 
Which  nothing  can  destroy. 

This  poem  by  Mrs.  Jane  Crewdson  was 
written  in  1 860,  and  has  since  been  used  in 
many  collections.  It  expresses  very  beauti- 
fully the  strange  and  yet  common  experience 
of  the  Christian  soul,  that  trouble  is  often 
only  a  blessing  in  disguise,  and  that  it  some- 
times opens  sources  of  joy  which  were  new 
to  us.  It  was  one  of  the  incidents  in  the 
Crimean  war  that  a  soldier  lay  famishing 
with  thirst,  and  complaining  bitterly,  as  a 
cannon-ball  tore  past  him,  that  he  was  still 
left  under  fire.  Meantime  the  missile  of  iron 
buried  itself  in  the  cliff -side  behind  him, 
splintered  the  rock,  disclosed  a  spring,  and 
sent  close  to  his  hot  lips  a  full  stream  of 
water  for  his  refreshment.  Most  of  us  have 
watched  almost  breathlessly  as  some  tremen- 
dous providence  shattered  hope  or  health,  or 
comfort  or  home,  and  yet  found  we  were  still 
alive  afterwards,  and  indeed  surrounded  with 
blessings  of  which  we  never  knew  the  exist- 
ence before,  and  never  felt  the  power  till 
now. 

864  Hereafter.  S.  M. 

Along  my  earthly  way 
How  many  clouds  are  spread  ! 

Darkness,  with  scarce  one  cheerful  ray, 
Seems  gathering  o'er  my  head. 


DISCIPLINE   AND    SORROW. 


371 


2  Yet,  Father,  thou  art  Love; 
Oh,  hide  not  from  my  view  ! 

But  when  I  look,  in  prayer,  above. 
Appear  in  mercy  through. 

3  My  pathway  is  not  hid  ; 
Thou  knowest  all  my  need  ; 

And  I  would  do  as  Israel  did — 
Follow  where  thou  wilt  lead. 

4  Lead  me,  and  then  my  feet 
Shall  never,  never  stray  ; 

But  safely  I  shall  reach  the  seat 
Of  happiness  and  day. 

5  And,  oh  !  from  that  bright  throne 
I  shall  look  back  and  see — 

The  path  I  went,  and  that  alone. 
Was  the  right  path  for  me. 

James  Edmeston  published  this  hymn  in 
his  Sacred  Lyrics,  1822,  Third  Series.  He 
entitled  it  "  Anxiety."  The  concluding  stanza, 
however,  better  voices  the  sentiment  of  the 
whole  piece.  It  makes  us  think  of  the  tri- 
umphant words  of  Joshua  in  his  farewell 
address  to  the  people  he  had  led  across  the 
Jordan  into  peace,  Joshua  23  :  14 :  "  And, 
behold,  this  day  I  am  going  the  way  of  all 
the  earth  :  and  ye  know  in  all  your  hearts  and 
in  all  your  souls,  that  not  one  thing  hath 
failed  of  all  the  good  things  which  the  Lord 
your  God  spake  concerning  you  ;  all  are  come 
to  pass  unto  you,  and  not  one  thing  hath 
failed  thereof."  Perhaps  the  finest  thing  in 
religious  literature  is  the  quaint  passage  in 
Pilgrim  s  Progress  which  tells  the  story  of 
the  waiting  ones  by  the  stream  of  Death, 
each  receiving  summons  in  turn,  taking  his 
"  token,"  and  then  making  preparation  for  the 
departure.  "  When  Mr.  Standfast  had  thus 
set  things  in  order,  and  the  time  being  come 
for  him  to  haste  away,  he  also  went  down  to 
the  river.  Now  there  was  a  great  calm  at 
that  time  in  the  river;  wherefore  Mr.  Stand- 
fast, when  he  was  about  half  way  in,  stood 
awhile  and  talked  to  his  companions  that  had 
waited  upon  him  thither.  And  he  said  :  '  This 
river  has  been  a  terror  to  many ;  yea,  the 
thoughts  of  it  also  have  often  frightened  me  : 
but  now  methinks  I  stand  easy ;  my  foot  is 
fixed  upon  that  on  which  the  feet  of  the 
priests  that  bare  the  ark  of  the  covenant 
stood  while  Israel  went  over  Jordan.  The 
waters  are  indeed  to  the  palate  bitter,  and  to 
the  stomach  cold ;  yet  the  thoughts  of  what  I 
am  going  to,  and  of  the  convoy  that  await 
me  on  the  other  side,  lie  as  a  glowing  coal  at 
my  heart.  I  see  myself  now  at  the  end  of 
my  journey  ;  my  toilsome  days  are  ended.  I 
am  going  to  see  that  head  which  was  crowned 
with  thorns,  and  that  face  which  was  spit 
upon  for  me.  I  have  formerly  lived  by  hear- 
say and  faith ;  but  now  I  go  where  I  shall 
live  by  right,  and  shall  be  with  him  in  whose 


company  I  delight  myself.  I  have  lo\ed  to 
hear  my  Lord  spoken  of ;  and  wherever  I 
have  seen  the  print  of  his  shoe  in  the  earth, 
there  I  have  coveted  to  set  my  foot,  too.  His 
name  has  been  to  me  a  civet-box :  yea, 
sweeter  than  all  perfumes.  His  voice  has 
been  to  me  most  sweet ;  and  his  countenance 
I  have  more  desired  than  they  that  have 
most  desired  the  light  of  the  sun.  His  words 
I  did  use  to  gather  for  my  food,  and  for  anti- 
dotes against  my  faintings.  He  has  held  me, 
and  hath  kept  me  from  mine  iniquities ;  yea, 
my  steps  have  been  strengthened  in  his 
way.'  "  • 

865  ''We  walk  by  faith."  S.  M. 

If,  through  unruffled  seas, 
Toward  heaven  we  calmly  sail. 

With  grateful  hearts,  O  God,  to  thee. 
We'll  own  the  favoring  gale. 

2  But  should  the  surges  rise, 
And  rest  delay  to  come, 

Blest  be  the  sorrow— kind  the  storm — 
Which  drives  us  nearer  home. 

3  Soon  shall  our  doubts  and  fears 
All  yield  to  thy  control ; 

Thy  tender  mercies  shall  illume 
The  midnight  of  the  soul. 

4  Teach  us,  in  every  state, 
To  make  thy  will  our  own  • 

And  when  the  joys  of  sense  depart, 
To  live  by  faith  alone. 

This  hymn  is  made  from  the  same  poem 
as  that  beginning,  "  Your  harps,  ye  trembling 
saints,"  by  Rev.  Augustus  M.  Toplady.  The 
entire  piece,  consisting  of  sixteen  stanzas, 
can  be  found  in  Sir  Roundell  Palmer's  Book 
of  Praise,  page  435.  The  first  which  is 
used  here  in  Laudes  Domini  has  been  alto- 
gether prepared  by  another  hand,  but  the 
other  verses  have  been  modified  and  altered 
until  they  form  this  fine  and  useful  lyric. 

The  fishermen's  wives,  on  the  shores  of  the 
Adriatic,  are  wont  to  go  down  on  the  beach, 
especially  when  the  chime  of  vespers  strikes 
and  the  night  promises  to  be  tumultuous  or 
unusually  dark,  and  there  lift  up  their  voices, 
as  only  Italian  women  know  how,  singing 
some  sweet  little  barcarolle,  with  a  long  lin- 
gering note  for  a  refrain  at  the  end  of  each  verse. 
When  this  last  beautiful  swell  of  harmony 
has  got  well  started  out  over  the  waves,  they 
suddenly  pause,  and  alertly  listen  for  a  re- 
sponse. If  it  be  possible  to  communicate, 
their  husbands  and  brothers,  far  out  of  sight, 
send  back  the  song.  And  in  it  comes — beat- 
ing across  the  crested  surface  of  the  sea. 
softened  by  the  distance  and  mellowed  by 
the  night.  Then  they  know  all  is  safe,  and 
retire  contented  to  their  work,  in  hope  of  a 
sure   meeting  of   their    home-friends  before 


372 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


long.  Now,  we  cannot  say  that  those  who 
have  left  us  here,  and  have  sailed  out  on  that 
mysterious  main  all  around  this  living  world, 
do  even  attempt  to  eeho  our  music  back  again. 
But  we  are  sure  they  hear  what  we  sing,  in 
faith  and  love,  in  praise  of  their  Redeemer 
and  ours.  At  any  rate,  it  is  a  fine  thing  to 
think  of  them  when  the  years  strike  their 
evening  chime.  And  we  know  there  will  be 
one  day,  when  certainly  we  shall  hear  from 
them,  when  the  quick  and  the  dead  shall  be 
caught  up  together.  And  that  dear  day  may 
dawn  even  while  we  are  singing. 

866  Kindness  even  in  affliction.  S.  M. 

How  tender  is  thy  hand, 

O  thou  beloved'Lord ! 
Afflictions  come  at  thy  command, 

And  leave  us  at  thy  Word. 

2  How  gentle  was  the  rod 
That  chastened  us  for  sin  ! 

How  soon  we  found  a  smiling  God, 
Where  deep  distress  had  been  ! 

3  A  Father's  hand  we  felt, 

A  Father's  heart  we  knew  ; 
With  tears  of  penitence  we  knelt, 
And  found  his  word  was  true. 

4  We  told  him  all  our  grief, 
We  thought  of  Jesus'  love ; 

A  sense  of  pardon  brought  relief, 
And  bade  our  pains  remove. 

5  Now  we  will  bless  the  Lord, 
And  in  his  strength  confide ; 

For  ever  be  his  name  adored  ; 
For  there  is  none  beside. 

This  hymn,  from  the  Mother's  Hymn 
Book,  1834,  was  written  by  the  venerable  and 
excellent  Thomas  Hastings,  by  whom  the 
music  of  the  American  churches  has  for  so 
many  years  been  enriched.  It  touches  upon 
a  Scripture  figure  of  speech  so  deftly  that  not 
all,  possibly,  may  notice  the  allusion.  In  the 
same  exquisitely  dear  passage  of  the  Word 
which  we  have  learned  so  lovingly  and  so 
often  to  quote,  "  A  bruised  reed  shall  he  not 
break,  and  the  smoking  flax  shall  he  not 
quench,"  there  is  found  a  figure  of  speech  so 
wondrously  beautiful  that  we  ought  always  to 
repeat  it  in  the  connection  :  "  I,  the  Lord,  have 
called  thee  in  righteousness,  and  will  hold 
thine  hatid."  Just  as  a  child,  who  is  going 
out  into  the  dark  it  dreads,  or  is  bracing  itself 
up  for  pain  which  it  has  to  undergo,  says, 
"  Father,  hold  my  hand,"  so  here  the  manliest 
believer  is  permitted  to  encourage  his  faith 
by  a  new  grasp  of  his  omnipotent  Helper's 
hand. 

How  much  wiser  in  this  experience  was 
Jonathan  once  than  David.  David  had  been 
told  that  he  was   chosen  of  God ;  but  Saul 


was  so  hard  upon  him  that  he  became  demor- 
alized. He  exclaimed,  "  I  shall  now  perish 
one  day  by  the  hand  of  Saul !"  No,  he  would 
not ;  why,  he  was  already  anointed  to  be  king 
after  Saul  should  be  dead.  But  he  fled  into 
the  wilderness.  "  Then  Jonathan,  Saul's  son, 
arose,  and  went  to  David  into  the  wood,  and 
strengthened  his  hand  in  God."  He  took,  as 
it  were,  the  hand  that  was  flying  loosely 
around  groping  after  help,  and  laid  it  back  in 
the  clasp  it  had  lost;  for  this  is  all  he  had 
to  say :  "  P^ear  not :  for  the  hand  of  Saul  my 
father  shall  not  find  thee ;  and  thou  shalt  be 
king  over  Israel,  and  I  shall  be  next  unto 
thee  ;  and  that  also  Saul  mv  father  knoweth." 


867  Psalm  103.  S.  M. 

Mv  soul,  repeat  his  praise, 

Whose  mercies  are  so  great : 
Whose  anger  is  so  slow  to  rise, 

So  ready  to  abate. 

2  God  will  not  always  chide  ; 
And  when  his  strokes  are  felt, 

His  strokes  are  fewer  than  our  crimes, 
And  lighter  than  our  guilt. 

3  The  pity  of  the  Lord 

To  those  that  fear  his  name, 

Is  such  as  tender  parents  feel ; 

He  knows  our  feeble  frame. 

4  Our  days  are  as  the  grass, 
Or  like  the  morning  flower  ; 

If  one  sharp  blast  sweep  o'er  the  field, 
It  withers  in  an  hour. 

5  But  thy  compassions,  Lord, 
To  endless  years  endure ; 

And  children's  children  ever  find 
Thy  words  of  promise  sure. 

This  is  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  version  of  Psalm 
103,  Second  Part,  S.  M.  It  consists  of  eight 
stanzas,  and  is  entitled,  "  Abounding  Com- 
passion of  God  ;  or,  Mercy  in  the  Midst  of 
Judgment."  It  is  related  concerning  the 
family  life  of  Rev.  John  Angell  James  that  it 
was  his  custom  to  read  Psalm  103  alwaj^s 
at  prayers  on  Saturday  night.  But  his  wife 
died,  and  the  Sabbath  drew  nigh  while  she 
lay  dead  in  the  house.  The  members  of  the 
stricken  household  gathered  in  the  twilight ; 
some  of  them  wondered  whether  this  old  song 
of  the  temple,  fairly  ringing  and  vibrant  with 
thanksgiving,  would  be  given  out  now  while 
the  shadows  were  hanging  so  deeply  over- 
head. But  the  faithful  servant  of  God  sim- 
ply turned  to  the  familiar  place  and  said 
gently :  "  No  reason  do  I  see  why  we  should 
change  our  custom  to-night ;  let  us  read  our 
usual  Psalm."  Whoever  casts  his  eye  along 
the  verses  will  find  that  there  are  great  sweet 
words  there,  in  the  very  midst  of  the  praises, 
for  those  whom  "  the  Lord  pitieth." 


DISCIPLINE   AND   SORROW. 


373 


QQg  "Son  of  Mary ." 

When  our  heads  are  bowed  with  woe, 
When  our  bitter  tears  o'erflow, 
When  we  mourn  the  lost,  the  dear, 
Jesus,  Son  of  Mary,  hear  ! 
Thou  our  feeble  flesh  hast  worn  ; 
Thou  our  mortal  griefs  hast  borne  ; 
Thou  hast  shed  the  human  tear: 
Jesus,  Son  of  Mary,  hear! 

2  When  the  heart  is  sad  within. 
With  the  thought  of  all  its  sin  ; 
When  the  spirit  shrinks  with  fear, 
Jesus,  Son  of  Mar>-,  hear  ! 

Thou  the  shame,  the  grief  hast  known'; 
Though  the  sins  were  not  thine  own. 
Thou  "hast  deigned  their  load  to  bear: 
Jesus,  Son  of  Mary,  hear! 

3  When  our  eyes  grow  dim  in  death  ; 
When  we  heave  the  parting  breath  ; 
When  our  solemn  doom  is  near, 
Jesus,  Son  of  Mary,  hear! 

Thou  liast  bowed  the  dying  head  ; 
Tluju  the  blood  of  life  hast  shed ; 
Thou  hast  filled  a  mortal  bier; 
Jesus,  Son  of  Mary,  hear  ! 


7S.  D. 


DEAN   MILMAN. 


This  poem  by  Rev.  Dr.  Henry  Hart  Mil- 
man  appeared  first  in  Bishop  Heber's  pos- 
thumous Hymns,  1827.  The  portrait  shows 
changes ;  it  was  taken  later  in  life  than  the 
one  previously  given.  The  refrain  has  been 
altered  frequently,  its  original  form  being, 
"  Gracious  Son  of  iMary,  hear,"  but  the  poem 
itself  is  unchanged.  It  was  written  to  follow 
in  the  service  the  Gospel  which  describes  the 
raising  of  the  widow's  son  at  Nain,  but  it  deals 
only  with  the  death.  It  stands,  however, 
without  a  peer  in  its  presentation  of  Christ's 
human  sympathy  for  sorrow.  Explanation 
of  the  affliction  helps  much.  We  learn  that 
our  sorrow  is  not  like  that  of  a  nestless  bird, 
chirping  sadly  for  the  loss  of  her  young— a 
mere  calamity.  It  is  a  discipline  intelligently 
sent  to  the  intelligent  creatures  of  God.  It  is 
intended  to  refine  character,  to  inure  us   to 


hardness,  to  wean  us  from  this  world  and  fit 
us  for  another  where  no  more  of  it  will  be 
needed.  We  do  not  always  find  this  out  be- 
fore. 

"  How  often  have  we  found  a  cross. 

Whose  heavy  beam  we  scarcely  bore, 
When  passed  beneath,  and  lifted  up. 
To  be  the  frame  of  heaven's  door." 

There  is  help  even  in  this  discovery.  But 
there  is  more  help  in  the  comfort  which  fol- 
lows. Just  to  be  in  the  companionship  of 
God  is  wonderfully  reassuring.  "The  name 
of  the  Lord  is  a  strong  tower ;  the  righteous 
runneth  into  it,  and  is  safe."  It  is  not  easy 
to  explain  the  untold  comfort  there  is  in  the 
mere  repose  of  the  soul  which  he  experiences 
who  rests  in  God.  Even  Saint  Paul  had  to 
say  it  "  passeth  knowledge."  And  all  David 
had  to  say  was  that  he  was  satisfied. 

We  once  saw  a  frightened  child  out  in  a 
thunder-storm,  caught  in  the  full  sight  of  his 
home.  He  ran  with  trembling  footsteps  to- 
wards the  door.  On  the  very  threshold  he 
was  arrested  with  horror  and  alarm.  There 
sat  his  mother  in  full  view ;  could  he  reach 
her  he  was  safe.  But  a  more  blinding  flash, 
accompanied  with  a  peal  which  seemed  to 
tear  the  very  heavens  into  banners,  transfixed 
him  with  terror  and  rooted  him  speechless 
on  the  spot.  But  one  word  from  those  be- 
loved lips  dissolved  the  spell.  One  more  step 
and  his  face  was  buried  on  the  bosom  he 
knew  best.  And  then  we  understood,  as 
never  before,  the  inspired  symbol,  "  As  one 
whom  his  mother  comforteth,  so  will  I  com- 
fort you,  saith  the  Lord." 

869  Looking  to  Jesus.  7s.  D. 

When  along  life's  thorny  road 
Faints  the  soul  beneath  the  load. 
By  its  cares  and  sins  oppressed, 
Finds  on  earth  no  peace  or  rest ; 
When  the  wily  tempter 's  near. 
Filling  us  with  doubt  and  fear : 
Jesus,  to  thy  feet  we  flee, 
Jesus,  we  will  look  to  thee. 

2  Thou,  our  Saviour,  from  the  throne 
List'nest  to  thy  people's  moan  ; 
Thou,  the  living  Head,  dost  share 
Every  pang  thy  members  bear; 

Full  of  tenderness  thou  art. 
Thou  wilt  heal  the  broken  lieart  ; 
Full  of  power,  thine  arm  shall  quell 
All  the  rage  and  might  of  hell. 

3  Mighty  to  redeem  and  save. 
Thou  hast  overcome  the  grave; 
Thou  the  bars  of  death  hast  riven 
Opened  wide  the  gates  of  heaven ; 
Soon  in  glory  thou  shalt  come. 
Taking  thy  poor  pilgrims  home; 
Jesus,  then  we  all  shall  be, 

Ever — ever — Lord,  with  thee. 

This  is  taken  from  Rev.  James  George 
Deck's  Hymns  for  the  Poor  of  the  Flock, 
1838.     From  the  lonely  castle  of  Machasrus 


374 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


came  the  news  that  John  the  Baptist  had  at 
last  sealed  his  work  by  his  martyrdom.  The 
chosen  twelve  hastened  back  in  time  to  re- 
ceive his  mutilated  remains  and  lay  them  in 
the  sepulcher.  The  great  and  shining  light 
of  the  new  dispensation  had  in  one  savage 
moment  of  lust  been  put  out  by  the  king  in 
order  to  gratify  the  spite  of  a  wicked  woman 
and  answer  the  whim  of  a  dancing  girl. 
These  disciples  felt  the  unutterable  gloom 
deepening  around  them.  It  is  plain  that  they 
were  heavily  depressed  in  spirits.  The  rec- 
ord is  exceedingly  affecting  in  its  artless  sim- 
plicity, especially  in  one  verse  which  Matthew 
adds  to  the  narrative  in  Mark  :  "And  his  dis- 
ciples came,  and  took  up  the  body  and  buried 
it,  and  went  and  told  Jesus."  Fitting  and 
beautiful  words  are  these  for  any  bereaved 
believer  to  remember.  It  is  a  good  thing  for 
a  mourner  to  feel  that  the  heart  of  the  Re- 
deemer we  love  is  tender  and  kind  in  its  hu- 
man invitation.  If  we  are  filial  and  affec- 
tionate, we  may  be  sure  of  a  welcome  when- 
ever, in  any  suffering,  we  just  "  go  and  tell 
Jesus."  It  is  not  without  significance  that 
one  of  our  home  hymns  has  caught  the  senti- 
ment and  set  it  to  music. 

870   *  Comfort.  7s,  5s. 

In  the  dark  and  cloudy  day. 
When  earth's  riches  flee  away. 
And  the  last  hope  will  not  stay, 
Saviour,  comfort  me ! 

2  When  the  secret  idol 's  gone 
That  my  poor  heart  yearned  upon — 
Desolate,  bereft,  alone, 

Saviour,  comfort  me ! 

3  Thou,  who  wast  so  sorely  tried, 
In  the  darkness  crucified. 

Bid  me  in  thy  love  confide; 
Saviour,  comfort  me ! 

4  Comfort  me  ;  I  am  cast  down  : 
'T  is  my  heavenly  Father's  frown  ; 
I  deserve  it  all,  I  own  : 

Saviour,  comfort  me ! 

5  So  it  shall  be  good  for  me 
Much  afflicted  now  to  be. 
If  thou  wilt  but  tenderly. 

Saviour,  comfort  me ! 

We  have  in  this  one  of  George  Rawson's 
hymns  taken  from  the  Leeds  Hyinn-Book, 
1853,  not  only  his  best  composition  for  real 
use,  but  the  acknowledgment  of  a  mood  of 
feeling  easily  recognized  by  most  of  God's 
children  who  have  ever  been  bereaved  of 
what  they  now  discover  to  have  been  a  veri- 
table "  idol  of  their  heart."  They  have  been 
resting  upon  a  human  love,  and  now  are 
simply  desolate.  It  is  of  no  use  to  try  to 
straighten  up  into  resistance  and  so  to  bra\-e 
it  out  like  a  Stoic.  It  is  evident  that,  if  their 
religion  is  worth  anything  to  them,  it  must 


show  its  power  of  substitution  just  at  this 
moment,  or  they  will  go  to  pieces  under  the 
strain.  Jesus  the  Master  and  Lord  must 
take  the  place  of  the  "  secret  idol,"  or  hope 
will  fail.  There  is  a  certain  amount  of  help 
in  human  courage,  cool  temperament,  and 
dauntless  will.  But  in  times  of  perplexity  like 
this  there  is  no  real  reliance  save  in  divine  in- 
terposition and  God's  powerful  aid.  And 
especially  at  the  final  agony,  when  nerves  are 
racked  with  pain,  and  resolution  is  worn  out 
with  watching,  when  usual  fortitude  gives 
way  before  unusual  strain,  neither  one's  own 
brave  heart  nor  the  sustaining  sympathy  of 
friends  is  enough  to  hold  us  up.  At  the  last 
extremity  the  eye  must  be  taught  to  look,  not 
within  or  around,  but  aloft.  Such  a  glance 
God  meets  with  reassurance  ;  the  Son  of  God 
was  the  son  of  Mary.  "A  living  hope,"  said 
good  Bishop  Leighton,  "  lives  in  death  itself ; 
the  world  dares  say  no  more  than  Dum  spt'ro, 
spero ;  but  the  children  of  God  can  add, 
Dum  expiro,  spero." 

87 1  "For  he  careth."  7s. 

Cast  thy  burden  on  the  Lord, 
Only  lean  upon  his  word  ; 
Thou  wilt  soon  have  cause  to  bless 
His  unchanging  faithfulness. 

2  He  sustains  thee  by  his  hand, 
He  enables  thee  to  to  stand  ; 
Those  whom  Jesus  once  hath  loved. 
From  his  grace  are  never  moved. 

3  Heaven  and  earth  may  pass  away, 
God's  free  grace  shall  not  decay  ; 
He  hath  promised  to  fulfill 

All  the  pleasure  of  his  will. 

4  Jesus  !  guardian  of  thy  flock. 
Be  thyself  our  constant  rock  ; 
Make  us,  by  thy  powerful  hand, 
Firm  as  Zion's  mountain  stand. 

After  being  tossed  around  for  many  years, 
this  is  now,  in  the  Dictionary  of  Hymnology, 
1892,  ascribed  to  Rev.  Rowland  Hill,  and 
traced  to  his  collection  of  Psalms  and  Hymns, 
chiefly  i?itended  for  Public  Worship,  1783. 
The  author  was  a  clergyman  of  the  Church 
of  England,  born  at  Hawkstone,  England, 
August  23,  1744,  educated  at  Shrewsbury', 
graduated  at  St.  John's  College,  Cambridge, 
1769,  and  admitted  to  Holy  Orders.  But  he 
itinerated  for  twelve  years,  preaching  in  va- 
rious places.  He  opened  the  well-known 
Surrey  Chapel  in  London  in  1783;  there  he 
ministered  nearly  fifty  years.  He  died  April 
II,  1833.  This  composition  has  been  much 
altered,  and  appears  in  several  forms.  The 
reference  is  to  Psalm  55  :  22. 

Rowland  Hill  was  eccentric  and  humorous, 
but  he  acted  naturally,  and  it  would  be  dan- 
gerous to  imitate  him.     We  get  the  heart  of 


DISCIPLINE   AND   SORROW. 


375 


REV.   ROWLAND   HILL. 


the  man  in  his  common  saying,  "  The  best 
of  living  is  to  live  for  others."  He  preached 
extemporaneously,  and  averaged  350  sermons 
a  year  for  si.xty-six  years.  He  once  preached 
"  one  and  twenty  sermons  for  one  and  twenty 
meals."  He  thought  a  careful  extemporary 
preacher  should  find  preaching  "  his  daily  de- 
light." When  told  that  a  sermon  of  his  had 
gone  from  Dan  to  Beersheba,  he  replied, 
"  Never  mind,  my  friend,  it  is  all  holy 
ground."  He  once  began  a  sermon  by  shout- 
ing "  Matches  !  "  and  said  he  felt  that  he  had 
not  labored  to  save  souls  as  laboriously  as  a 
match-seller  under  his  study  w'indow  had  to 
sell  matches. 

Mr.  Hill  was  a  constantly  prayerful  man. 
He  said,  "  I  like  ejaculatory  prayer  ;  it  reaches 
heaven  before  the  devil  can  get  a  shot  at  it." 
At  one  time  his  trustful  feeling  showed  itself 
to  a  friend  who  heard  him  in  an  undertone  in 
his  chapel,  after  an  exhausting  ser\'ice,  thus 
soliloquizing  : 

"  And  when  I  'm  to  die,  Receive  me !  I  '11  cry, 
For  Jesus  hath  loved  me,  I  cannot  tell  why; 
But  this  I  do  find,  we  two  are  so  joined. 
He  '11  not  be  in  glory  and  leave  me  behind." 

As  to  delivering  sermons,  he  said  that  those 
hearing  a  will  read  would  consider  the  con- 
tents rather  than  the  reader's  manner.  On. 
hearing  scandal,  he  called  for  a  brush  and 
dust-pan,  and  swept  the  carpet,  saying  "  much 
dust  and  dirt  had  been  scattered."  Of  afflic- 
tions he  remarks  :  "  Every  twig  of  God's  rod 
grows  in  the  paradise  of  his  love,"  and  coun- 
sels prayer,  deeming  an  afflicted    Christian 


better  off  than  the  sinner  at  liberty.  He  com- 
pares the  Christian  to  a  child  gathering  flow- 
ers, but  constantly  watching  its  father.  A 
Christian,  he  asserts,  reflects  God's  love  in 
the  world,  as  the  diamond  does  the  sunlight. 
In  Christ's  "  unsearchable  riches "  he  sees 
more  than  telescopes  can  display  on  earth.  A 
spirit  of  prayer  is  like  a  bird  ready  to  fly.  "  I 
think,"  said  he,  "  that  sermon  is  not  worth  a 
rush  that  has  not  got  the  Redeemer  in  it." 

372  Love  seen  in  trials.  7s. 

'T  IS  my  happiness  below 

Not  to  live  without  the  cross. 
But  the  Saviour's  power  to  know, 

Sanctifying  every  loss. 

2  Trials  must  and  will  befall ; 
But  with  humble  faith  to  see 

Love  inscribed  upon  them  all — 
This  is  happiness  to  me. 

3  God  in  Israel  sows  the  seeds 
Of  affliction,  pain,  and  toil; 

These  spring  up  and  choke  the  weeds 
Which  woulcl  else  o'erspread  the  soil. 

4  Did  I  meet  no  trials  here, 
No  chastisement  by  the  way, 

Might  I  not  with  reason  fear 
I  should  prove  a  castaway? 

5  Trials  make  the  promise  sweet : 
Trials  give  new  life  to  prayer; 

Trials  brnig  me  to  his  feet. 
Lay  me  low,  and  keep  me  there. 


WILLIAM   COWPER. 


The  hymn  now  before  us  was  written  by 
William  Cowper.  and  was  first  published  in 
Lady  Huntingdon's  Coliec/wn,  1774.  It  was 
then,  and  afterwards  in  the  Olney  Hymns, 
1779,  closely  associated  with  the  one  begin- 
ning, "  God  moves  in  a  mysterious  way,"  and 
it  suggests  many  of  the  sorrowful  circum- 
stances under  which  that  was  composed.  It  is 
a  little  unfortunate  for  the   literary  reputation 


376 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


of  this  poet  that  he  should,  by  reason  of  his 
invalidhood,  invariably  have  made  upon  the 
minds  that  came  more  immediately  in  contact 
with  his  life  the  impression  of  weakness  and 
melancholy.  For  really  he  ought  to  be  reck- 
oned among  the  intensest  and  most  vigorous 
of  writers  when  he  was  in  the  mood  of  proper 
composition.  He  wrote  much  besides  hymns. 
He  has  been  credited  by  his  biographers  with 
being  actually  the  first  poet  of  eminent  genius 
in  open  opposition  to  the  slave  trade  in  Brit- 
ain ;  he  denounced  injustice,  he  fought  in- 
temperance, he  wielded  his  pen  in  behalf  of 
all  the  mighty  reforms  that  agitated  the  day 
in  which  he  lived.  He  was  bold  and  earnest 
in  his  intercession  for  dumb  animals  ;  he  did 
all  he  could  to  kindle  interest  in  Christian 
missions  over  the  whole  world.  Personally, 
he  was  a  man  to  love  and  to  be  loved.  His 
feebleness  was  due  to  sickness  and  insanity ; 
his  trials  were  numberless,  but  his  faith  was 
firm. 

There  is  in  existence  a  book,  by  Thomas 
Wright,  entitled  'The  Town  of  Cowper ;  it  is 
a  history  of  Olney,  written  by  a  schoolmaster 
of  excellent  taste  and  brightness.  It  is  em- 
bellished with  engravings,  and  contains  five 
portraits  of  the  poet.  One  of  these  has  in  it 
the  desk  which  was  his  favorite  ;  he  caused 
this  to  be  included  in  the  picture  ;  he  valued 
it  as  the  gift  of  his  cousin,  Theodore  Cowper, 
the  one  he  in  his  young  days  loved  sincerely. 
In  a  letter  to  Lady  Hesketh,  December  7, 
1785,  he  speaks  of  "  my  desk,  the  most  ele- 
gant, the  compactest,  the  most  commodious 
desk  in  the  world,  and  of  all  the  desks  that 
ever  were  or  ever  shall  be,  the  desk  that  I  love 
the  most." 

873  "  ^ot  my  will,  but  thine:'  6s.  D. 

Mv  Jesus,  as  thou  wilt ! 

Oh,  may  thy  will  be  mine  ; 
Into  thy  hand'  of  love 

I  would  my  all  resign  ; 
Through  sorrow,  or  through  joy. 

Conduct  me  as  thine  own, 
And  help  me  still  to  say, 

My  Lord,  thy  will  be  done! 

2  My  Jesus,  as  thou  wilt  I 
Though  seen  through  many  a  tear. 

Let  not  my  star  of  hope 

Grow  dim  or  disappear; 
Since  thou  on  earth  hast  wept, 

And  sorrowed  oft  alone, 
If  I  must  weep  with  thee, 

My  Lord,  thy  will  be  done! 

3  My  Jesus,  as  thou  wilt  I 
All  shall  be  well  for  me ; 

Each  changing  future  scene 

I  gladly  trust  with  thee  : 
Straight  to  my  home  above 

I  travel  calmly  on. 
And  sing,  in  life  or  death, 

My  Lord,  thy  will  be  done ! 

Another  of  the  translations  of  Miss  Jane 


Borthwick,  taken  ixovsx  Hymns  from  the  Land 
of  Luther,  the  first  series,  1854.  It  is  a  ren- 
dering from  "  Mein  Jesu,  wie  du  wi'tlst" 
written  by  the  Silesian  pastor,  Benjamin 
Schmolck,  about  1704.  It  is  founded  upon 
Mark  14  :  36,  and  was  published  in  1709.  The 
thought  is  this :  We  are  to  bend  our  wills  in 
simple  submission  to  Jesus,  as  Jesus  bent  his 
to  that  of  his  Father,  and  so  settle  the  rest- 
less inquisitiveness  of  our  wounded  sensi- 
bility. There  is  no  other  way  of  dealing  with 
such  a  question  as  this.  We  must  take  the 
testimony  of  those  who  have  had  experience 
of  trouble.  Four  eminent  men  there  have 
been  whose  history  in  this  particular  is  before 
us.  Aaron  was  terribly  bereaved  when  his 
sons  were  struck  dead ;  but  "  he  held  his 
peace."  That  was  well,  but  Eli  took  higher 
ground  ;  he  spoke  ;  he  said  :  "It  is  the  Lord, 
let  him  do  what  seemeth  good  in  his  sight." 
But  Job  reached  a  step  higher  than  either  ;  he 
spoke  not  only  in  submission,  but  in  thankful- 
ness: "Blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord." 
And  then,  from  a  far  more  serene  and  ele- 
vated summit  of  satisfaction,  Paul,  that  grand 
old  apostle  of  the  New  Testament,  declared, 
"  I  take  pleasure  in  my  distresses."  This 
ought  to  be  enough  for  us.  Even  the  un- 
inspired Robert  Burns  could  say  : 

"  Though  crosses  and  losses 
Be  lessons  right  severe, 
There's  wit  there,  ye  '11  get  there, 
Ye  '11  get  nae  ither  where." 

374  "  ff^  knoweth  the  way."  6s.  D. 

Thy  way,  not  mine,  O  Lord, 

However  dark  it  be ! 
Lead  me  by  thine  own  hand  ; 

Choose  out  my  path  for  me. 

1  dare  not  choose  my  lot : 
I  would  notMf  I  might ; 

Choose  thou  for  me,  my  God, 
So  shall  I  walk  aright. 

2  The  kingdom  that  I  seek 
Is  thine:  so  let  the  way 

That  leads  to  it  be  thine, 

Else  I  must  surely  stray. 
Take  thou  my  cup,  and  it 

With  joy  or  sorrow  fill. 
As  best  to  thee  may  seem  ; 

Choose  thou  my  good  and  ill. 

3  Choose  thou  for  me  my  friends, 
My  sickness  or  my  health  ; 

Choose  thou  my  cares  for  me, 

My  poverty  or  wealth. 
Not  mine,  not  mine  the  choice, 

In  things  or  great  or  small  ; 
Be  thou  my  Guide,  my  Strength, 

My  Wisdom  and  my  All. 

This  well-known  poem,  by  Rev.  Dr.  Hora- 
tius  Bonar,  was  first  published  in  1857  in  his 
Hymns  of  Faith  and  Hope.  It  is  a  prayer 
for  submission  to  a  higher  power,  which  alone 
can  lead  us  to  the  best  development.  By  re- 
signing our  own  will  we  accept  that  of  Christ ; 


DISCIPLINE   AND   SORROW. 


377 


henceforth  it  is  he  who  works  in  us,  and  we 
gain  everything  by  that  substitution.  It  was 
he  who  once  said  :  "  Thou  knowest  not  now ; 
but  thou  slialt  know  hereafter."'  One  supreme 
moment  there  is  to  each  faithful  Christian's 
existence,  forward  to  which  he  may  often 
with  profit  even  now  summon  himself  to 
look.  It  will  be  the  finest  moment  of  his 
earthly  life,  and  it  will  be  the  final  one. 
Through  one  valley,  and  over  one  hill  after 
another,  he  will  journey,  oftentimes  shining, 
oftentimes  shadowed,  perhaps  worn  and  weary 
all  the  diificult  way.  But  he  will,  one  sweet 
sunlit  morning,  really  reach,  the  beautiful 
gates,  "  on  golden  hinges  turning."  It  would 
not  be  a  wonder  if,  amid  even  the  rejoicings 
he  hears  from  the  near  throng  that  welcome 
him,  he  should  ask  just  one  flashing  instant  of 
review  to  look  behind  him  over  the  long,  de- 
vious path  he  has  trodden.  Then  he  ivill  un- 
derstand it  at  last.  It  may  not  have  been 
what  he  would  have  chosen  ;  but  its  discipline 
was  profitable,  and  now  its  end  is  peace — 
eternal,  sacred,  sure. 

875  The  Homeland.  6s.  D. 

There  is  a  blessed  home 

Beyond  this  land  of  woe, 
Where  trials  never  come. 

Nor  tears  of  sorrow  flow  ; 
Where  faith  is  lost  in  sight, 

And  patient  hope  is  crowned, 
And  everlasting  light 

Its  glory  throws  around. 

2  There  is  a  land  of  peace ; 
Good  angels  know  it  well ; 

Glad  songs  that  never  cease 

Within  its  portals  swell ; 
Around  its  glorious  throne 

Ten  thousand  saints  adore 
Christ,  with  the  Father  one, 

And  Spirit,  evermore. 

3  Look  up,  ye  saints  of  God  I 
Nor  fear  to  tread  below 

The  path  your  Saviour  trod 

Of  daily  toil  and  woe; 
Wait  but  a  little  while 

In  uncomplaining  love; 
His  own  most  gracious  smile 

Shall  welcome  you  above. 

This  beautiful  and  pathetic  poem  by  Sir 
Henry  Williams  Baker  was  published  in  Hymns 
Ancient  and  Modern,  i86i ,  and  has  since  been 
used  in  many  collections.  It  was  sung  over 
the  grave  of  the  author,  whose  talent  as  a  poet 
was  of  a  very  high  order,  although  inclining 
to  sadness  and  plaintiveness.  It  is  in  Psalm 
55  that  we  meet  first  the  words  which  have 
been  repeated  so  many  times  as  the  cry  of  a 
soul  wearied  of  life  :  "  Oh,  that  I  had  wings 
like  a  dove ;  for  then  would  I  fly  away  and 
be  at  rest."  King  David  is  believed  to  have 
written  this  Psalm  at  the  time  when  Absalom 


his  son  had  begun  the  attacks  of  his  treacher- 
ous rebellion.  He  was  driven  already  from 
his  throne.  That  very  afternoon  he  had  been 
expelled  from  the  capital.  He  was  forced 
across  the  slender  Kidron  into  the  Mount  of 
Olives.  All  things  seemed  going  to  ruin.  The 
entire  realm  shook  to  its  center.  The  fugitive 
monarch  passed  the  night  there  unsheltered 
among  the  trees.  Meantime  he  alleviated  the 
tediousness  of  the  midnight  by  praying  and 
making  a  psalm.  You  cannot  take  his  words 
as  those  of  a  petulant  caviler  who  had  settled 
down  into  desperate  melancholy.  He  is  neither 
peevish  nor  purposeless.  The  exciting  history 
culminates  at  the  point  when  he  begins  to 
pray  there  upon  the  mountain.  The  Psalm 
before  us  is  his  prayer. 

It  will  be  well  for"  us,  as  we  take  up  such  a 
theme  as  this,  to  consider,  first,  the  universal- 
ity of  the  sentiment  to  which  the  Psalmist  gives 
an  impassioned  utterance.  It  was  no  individ- 
ual wish  he  expressed  :  the  cry  is  more  like 
the  sigh  of  the  ages,  the  irrepressible  longing 
of  an  imprisoned  soul  for  freedom  from  its 
fetters..  It  is  not  really  a  call  for  death  to 
come  and  end  one's  despair ;  it  is  the  demand 
for  a  new  or  at  least  another  region  in  which 
to  work  out  the  problems  of  life.  And  this  is 
as  old  as  the  race  is,  for  all  we  can  see.  The 
book  of  human  history  is  not  complete :  it 
has  lost  some  of  its  early  pages.  But  what- 
ever records  it  has  kept  are  full  of  this  same 
wistfulness.  A  fine  old  fable  was  that  taught 
in  the  mediaeval  times  ;  the  knights  were  told 
to  think  of  the  vast  temple  of  the  Sangreal. 
Deep  in  the  impenetrable  forest  it  stood, 
guarded  by  its  mailed  warriors  ;  six  and  thirty 
towers  rose  into  the  quiet  sky,  and  over  them 
all  the  grand  dome  of  apocalyptic  sapphire ; 
and  there  hung,  just  beneath,  crystal  crosses 
and  curtains  of  green.  The  eye  of  mortal 
could  not  behold  it  yet ;  only  it  was  sure  that 
the  glory  remained  in  waiting.  But  that  struc- 
ture would  be  for  ever  invisible  to  an  impure 
heart,  for  ever  inaccessible  to  every  faltering 
or  faithless  soul.  There  it  stood  upon  the 
onyx  summit  of  Mount  Salvage ;  and  he  that 
was  brave  and  holy  might  one  time  reach  the 
portal,  and  so  be  at  rest.  Men  sighed  to  go 
to  that  far-away  citadel. 


876  -^  Father's  hand. 

Be  trancjuil,  O  my  soul ! 

Be  quiet,  every  fear  ! 
Thy  Father  hath  control, 

And  he  is  ever  near. 
Ne'er  of  thy  lot  complain, 

Whatever  may  befall ; 
Sickness,  or  care,  or  pain, 

'T  is  well  appointea  all. 


6s.  D. 


378 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


2  A  Father's  chastening  hand 

Is  leading  thee  along  ; 
Nor  distant  is  the  land 

Where  swells  the  immortal  song. 
Oh,  then,  my  soul,  be  still ! 

Await  heaven's  high  decree; 
Seek  but  thy  Father's  will, 

It  shall  be  well  with  thee. 

This  poem  by  Dr.  Thomas  Hastings  was 
jirst  pubHshed  in  Songs  of  the  Church,  1862, 
with  the  title  "  Patience  in  Affliction."  It  is 
an  appeal  to  "  those  who  are  troubled  or  dis- 
tressed in  mind,  body,  or  estate,"  to  strengthen 
their  failing  courage  by  remembering  that  God 
has  sent  the  trial  for  a  definite  purpose.  As 
we  receive  it,  so  it  will  be  to  us  either  a  bless- 
ing or  a  wasted  opportunity.  Bishop  Brooks 
has  said  :  The  sunlight  falls  upon  a  clod,  and 
the  clod  drinks  it  in,  is  itself  warmed  by  it, 
but  lies  as  black  as  ever,  and  sheds  out  no 
light.  But  the  sun  touches  a  diamond,  and 
the  diamond  almost  chills  itself  as  it  sends  out 
in  radiance  on  every  side  the  light  that  has 
fallen  upon  it.  So  God  helps  one  man  bear 
his  pain,  and  nobody  but  that  man  is  a  whit 
the  richer.  God  comes  to  another  sufferer — 
reverent,  unselfish,  humble — and  the  lame 
leap,  and  the  dumb  speak,  and  the  wretched 
are  comforted  all  around  by  the  radiated  com- 
fort of  that  happy  soul." 

377  "  Palm  in  Gilead."  L.M.  61. 

Peace,  troubled  soul,  whose  plaintive  moan 
Hath  taught  each  scene  the  notes  of  woe  ; 

Cease  thy  complaint,  suppress  thy  groan, 
And  let  thy  tears  forget  to  flow  ; 

Behold,  the  precious  balm  is  found 

To  lull  thy  pain,  to  heal  thy  wound. 

2  Come,  freely  come,  by  sin  oppressed  ; 

On  Jesus  cast  thy  weighty  load ; 
In  him  thy  refuge  find,  thy  rest, 

Safe  in  the  mercy  of  thy  God  ; 
Thy  God 's  thy  Saviour — glorious  word ! 
For  ever  love  and  praise  the  Lord. 

The  Honorable  Walter  Shirley,  M.  A.,  was 
born  in  1725,  and  died  April  7,  1786.  As  a 
relative  of  the  Countess  of  Huntingdon,  he 
became  interested  in  her  circle  of  friends,  and 
often  preached  in  the  chapels  established  by 
Whitefield  and  the  Wesleys.  For  some  time 
he  was  rector  of  Loughrea,  in  the  county  of 
Galway,  Ireland.  He  wrote  a  number  of 
hymns,  of  which  a  few  remain  in  general 
use.  Among  them  the  one  quoted  here  is 
well  known,  although  it  has  often  been 
altered  and  abbreviated.  It  is  a  call  to  those 
who  are  in  trouble,  that  they  should  seek 
earnestly  for  divine  help.  It  is  folly  to  blame 
God's  dilatoriness  when  our  supplications  are 
delayed  or  denied.  Certainly  mere  senti- 
mental complaints  do  not  better  the  matter ; 
we  must  keep  on  praying.  For  it  is  no  he- 
roic man  or  woman  who,  having  been  hin- 
dered  in  petition,   sits   in  the   doorway   ex- 


claiming, like  another  Jeremiah,  "  Is  it  noth- 
ing to  you,  all  ye  that  pass  by  ?  behold,  and 
see  if  there  be  any  sorrow  like  unto  my  sor- 
row, which  is  done  unto  me,  wherewith  the 
Lord  hath  afflicted  me  in  the  day  of  his  fierce 
anger  !"     Sympathy  does  not  help  the  case. 

The  reply  is:  "I  will  not  let  thee  go!" 
Nothing  more  or  less  than  pray  again,  and 
keep  praying.  The  two  parables  of  our 
Saviour  are  exactly  in  point.  The  widow's 
importunity  prevailed  over  even  an  unjust 
judge  ;  how  much  more  ours  over  One  who 
is  just  and  merciful  likewise!  The  friend's 
importunity  gained  bread  even  at  midnight 
for  his  guests  from  one  who  was  resistant 
and  churlish ;  how  much  more  ours  from  a 
Father  who  seeks  chances  for  generous  sup- 
ply !  And  Jesus  told  his  meaning  at  the  be- 
ginning. "  He  spake  a  parable  unto  them, 
to  this  end,  that  men  ought  always  to  pray, 
and  not  to  faint." 

878  "  Eben-ezer."  L.  M.  61. 

BE  still,  my  heart !  these  anxious  cares 
To  thee  are  burdens,  thorns,  and  snares : 
They  cast  dishonor  on  thy  Lord, 
And  contradict  his  gracious  word  ; 
Brought  safely  by  his  hand  thus  far, 
Why  wilt  thou  now  give  place  to  fear? 

2  When  first  before  his  mercy-seat 
Thou  didst  to  him  thy  all  commit, 
He  gave  thee  warrant  from  that  hour 
To  trust  his  wisdom,  love,  and  power: 
Did  ever  trouble  yet  befall 

And  he  refuse  to  hear  thy  call? 

3  He  who  has  helped  thee  hitherto 
Will  help  thee  all  thy  journey  through ; 
Though  rough  and  thorny  be  the  road, 
It  leads  thee  home,  apace,  to  God  : 
Then  count  thy  present  trials  small. 
For  heaven  will  make  amends  for  all. 

This  piece  of  Rev.  John  Newton's  is 
found  in  the  Obtey  Hymns,  1779,  No.  40  of 
Book  III.  It  consists  of  seven  stanzas,  and 
is  entitled,  "  Why  art  thou  cast  down?"  It 
was  written  in  a  season  of  serious  trial  and 
depression  of  spirits,  and  it  well  shows  how 
calmly  he  could  teach  his  mind  to  rest  in  the 
providence  of  God  as  well  as  on  his  grace. 

When  the  world  pursues  a  Christian  who 
has  in  his  heart  the  hope  of  salvation,  who 
remembers  at  least  one  revolutionary  hour  in 
his  private  experience  in  which  he  committed 
his  all  unto  his  Saviour  in  full  trust  and  ac- 
ceptance, it  usually  finds  him  far  out  of  its 
reach.  Think  of  good  old  Rutherford  writ- 
ing from  the  prison  of  Aberdeen.  He  re- 
peats the  words  of  the  prophet,  '  And  a 
man  shall  be  as  a  hiding-place  from  the 
wind,  and  a  covert  from  the  tempest ;  as  riv- 
ers of  water  in  a  dry  place  ;  as  the  shadow  of 
a  great  rock  in  a  weary  land."  And  then  he 
adds  :  "  I  creep  under  my  Lord's  wings  in  the 


DISCIPLINE   AND  SORROW. 


379 


great  shower,  and  the  waters  cannot  reach  me. 
Let  fools  laugh  the  fools'  laughter  and  scorn 
Christ,  and  bid  the  weeping  captives  in  Baby- 
lon sing  them  one  of  the  songs  of  Zion.  We 
may  sing,  even  in  our  winter's  tempest,  in  the 
expectation  of  our  summer's  sun  at  the  turn 
of  the  year.  No  created  powers  in  hell  or  out 
of  hell  can  mar  our  Lord's  work  or  spoil  our 
song  of  joy.  Let  us  then  be  glad  and  rejoice 
in  the  salvation  of  our  Lord  ;  for  faith  hath 
never  yet  the  cause  to  have  tearful  eyes  or 
a  saddened  brow." 

879  "yts  thy  days."  L.  M.  61. 

When  adverse  winds  and  waves  arise, 
And  in  my  heart  despondence  sighs ; 
When  life  her  throng  of  cares  reveals, 
And  weakness  o'er  my  spirit  steals, 
Grateful  I  hear  the  kind  decree, 
That  "  as  my  day,  my  strength  shall  be." 

2  One  trial  more  must  yet  be  past, 
One  pang — the  keenest  and  the  last ; 
And  when,  with  brow  convulsed  and  pale, 
My  feeble,  quivering  heart-strings  fail. 
Redeemer !  grant  my  soul  to  see 
That  "  as  my  day,  my  strength  shall  be." 

Another  of  the  very  acceptable  pieces  con- 
tributed by  Mrs.  Lydia  Huntley  Sigourney  to 
Dr.  Bacon's  Hymns  and  Sacred  Songs  for 
the  Monthly  Concert,  1823.  It  is  founded 
upon  the  promise  of  the  Old  Testament  re- 
corded in  Deuteronomy  33  :  25  :  "As  thy  days, 
so  shall  thy  strength  be."  This  engagement 
is  unlike  any  other  in  God's  Word :  it  an- 
nounces itself  as  limited ;  and  yet  it  is 
charged  with  grace  that  is  measureless.  God 
does  not  pledge  himself  to  give  his  children 
help  before  they  need  it,  nor  more  help  than 
they  need ;  but  he  will  be  observant  of  them 
all  their  lives,  and  when  they  are  at  the  high- 
est in  their  necessities  he  will  send  them 
swift  and  sufficient  supply. 

880  "At  evening  time."  L.  M.  61. 

At  evening  time  let  there  be  light ; 

Life's  little  day  draws  near  its  close; 
Around  me  fall  the  shades  of  night, 

The  night  of  death,  the  grave's  repose; 

To  crown  my  joys,  to  end  my  woes. 
At  evening  time  let  there  be  light. 

2  At  evening  time  let  there  be  light ; 
Stormy  and  dark  hath  been  my  day — 

Yet  rose  the  morn  divinely  bright ; 
Dews,  birds,  and  blossoms  cheered  the  way — 
Oh,  for  one  sweet,  one  parting  ray! 

At  evening  time  let  there  be  light. 

3  At  evening  time  there  shall  be  light ! 
For  God  hath  spoken  ;  it  must  be  ; 

Fear,  doubt,  and  anguish  take  their  flight ; 

His  glory  now  is  risen  on  me  ; 

Mine  eyes  shall  his  salvation  see; 
'T  is  evening  time,  and  there  is  light ! 

This  hymn  by  James  Montgomery  was 
written  at  Conway,  North  Wales,  in  Septem- 
ber, 1828,  and  published  in  his  Poet's  Port- 
folio, 1835.     It  is  referred  to  by  Holland  in 


his  Memoirs  of  Montgomery,  and  has  come 
into  general  use  in  America.  The  poem  vi'as 
suggested  by  the  close  of  the  seventh  verse 
in  the  fourteenth  chapter  of  Zechariah :  "  It 
shall  come  to  pass,  that  at  evening  time  it 
shall  be  light."  If  one  were  to  be  sum- 
moned to  mention  any  single  characteristic 
of  the  divine  government  in  this  world  which 
had  most  arrested  his  attention,  he  would  be 
likely  to  specify  its  vast  system  of  surprises. 
It  might  be  said  of  every  spiritual  day,  espe- 
cially of  one  which  has  been  hazy  and  fitful 
in  its  shinings  and  its  shadows,  that  "It 
shall  come  to  pass,  that  at  evening  time  it 
shall  be  light."  The  darkness  of  every  wor- 
rying experience  goes  on  deepening  into 
gloom,  but  when  the  sundown  occurs — the 
hour  that  surely  predicts  and  precurses  the 
inevitable  night — then  at  evening  time  it  is 
light.  God's  way  with  his  children  is  to 
strengthen  with  denial  and  reward  by  sur- 
prise. All  things  ought  to  be  judged  by 
their  final  outlook.  Worldly  wisdom  is  pru- 
dent enough  to  admit  that  "  all 's  well  that 
ends  well."  Here  is  hint  enough  that  when 
these  systems  are  near  their  dispersion  there 
will  be  final  explanation  and  release.  How- 
ever ready  w^e  may  be  patiently  to  bear  with 
this  confusion  around  us,  there  can  be  no 
denial  that  to  the  sincere  Christian  the  end  is 
the  best  part  of  it.  There  is  great  welcome 
in  the  thought  of  a  clearer  life  to  come  after 
this.  From  all  this  we  learn  a  lesson  as  to 
the  grand  purpose  of  existence.  When  the 
cloud  passes,  and  the  mist  clears,  and  the 
confusion  ends,  where  will  the  evening  time 
find  us  ?  No  one  is  made  the  butt  of  circum- 
stances ;  no  one  has  been  pitched  upon  as  a 
child  of  disaster.  The  day  is  alike  confused 
to  all ;  but  God's  grace  has  been  added  as  an 
unfailing  helper.  By  that  grace  any  believing 
penitent  man  may  be  like  John's  "  angel 
standing  in  the  sun  !" 

881 


"Jesus  wept." 


L.  M.  6L 


Whkn  gathering  clouds  around  I  view, 
And  days  are  dark,  and  friends  are  few, 
On  him  I  lean,  who,  not  in  vain. 
Experienced  every  human  pain  ; 
He  sees  my  wants,  allays  my  fears, 
And  counts  and  treasures  up  my  tears. 

2  If  aught  should  tempt  my  soul  to  stray 
From  heavenly  virtue's  narrow  way^ 
To  fly  the  good  I  would  pursue, 

Or  do  the  sin  I  would  not  do — 
Still  he,  who  felt  temptation's  power, 
Shall  guard  me  in  that  dangerous  hour. 

3  When  sorrowing  o'er  some  stone,  I  bend. 
Which  covers  all  that  was  a  friend. 

And  from  his  voice,  his  hand,  his  smile, 
Divides  me,  for  a  little  While, 
My  Saviour  sees  the  tears  I  shed. 
For  Jesus  wept  o'er  Lazarus  dead. 


38o 


CHRISTIAN   EXPERIENCE. 


4  And,  oh,  when  I  have  safely  passed 
Through  every  conflict  but  the  last — 
Still,  still  unchanging,  watch  beside 
My  painful  bed — for  thou  hast  died  ; 
Then  point  to  realms  of  cloudless  day, 
And  wipe  my  latest  tear  away. 

Lord  Glenelg  included  this  hymn  in  the 
Sacred  Poems,  1839,  he  published,  written  by 
his  brother,  Sir  Robert  Grant.  It  had  ap- 
peared before  in  the  Christian  Observer, 
February,  1806.  The  simplicity  of  the  sen- 
timent embodied  in  these  familiar  stanzas, 
and  the  smoothness  of  the  poetical  rhythm, 
are  what  have  rendered  the  piece  so  popular. 
The  troubled  soul  finds  its  relief  in  the  mere 
sense  of  the  Saviour's  presence.  Here  again 
we  are  reminded  of  the  experience  of  the  dis- 
ciples, who,  when  they  had  buried  the  body 
of  John  the  Baptist,  "  went  and  told  Jesus." 
It  is  not  easy  to  say  just  what  our  Lord  did  ; 
they  were  interrupted  by  a  crowd  before  long. 
But  we  feel  perfectly  satisfied  that  the  com- 
passionate Saviour  suffered  their  natural 
emotion  to  find  vent  without  any  rebuke.  He 
gave  them  proper  indulgence  in  mourning 
over  the  loss  of  one  so  dear  as  John  the  Bap- 
tist. And,  no  doubt,  they  told  over  and  over 
the  reminiscences  of  his  career.  Where  was 
there  ever  befoi:e  a  forerunner  so  brave,  a 
preacher  so  faithful,  a  hero  so  noble }  He 
was  Jesus'  affectionate  kinsman  ;  he  had  most 
likely  baptized  Andrew,  Peter,  and  John. 
Christ  had  loved  and  trusted  him  ;  indeed, 
he  once  said  publicly  that  John  was  the 
greatest  man  ever  born  of  woman.  And 
now  we  may  be  certain  that  when  the  disci- 
ples went  and  told  him,  he  would  point  out 
to  them  how  fine  a  thing  it  was  just  to  be 
genuine  and  true  and  steady  to  the  end. 
And  if  Simon  Peter  got  up  on  his  feet  to  say 
he  was  not  going  to  break  for  all  this,  it 
would  have  been  just  like  him.  And  if  the 
rest  thought  so,  and  said  nothing,  it  would 
have  been  just  like  them,  too.  Perhaps  they 
bowed  their  heads  and  wept ;  if  they  did,  it 
was  not  un-Christian  nor  unmanly.  "  Jesus 
wept "  once ;  possibly  more  than  once. 
There  are  times  when  God  asks  nothing  of 
his  children  except  silence,  patience,  and 
tears.  He  lets  them  go  aside  away  from  in- 
terruption, in  order  to  weep  till  nature  is  re- 
lieved of  her  heaviest  burden ;  then  he  gives 
"  a  season  of  clear  shining  that  cometh  after 
rain." 

882  "  Lead  thou  me  on."  los,  4s. 

Lead,  kindly  Light !  amid  the  encircling  gloom. 

Lead  thou  me  on ; 
The  night  is  dark,  and  I  am  far  from  home. 

Lead  thou  me  on  ; 
Keep  thou  my  feet ;  I  do  not  ask  to  see 
The  distant  scene  ;  one  step  enough  for  me. 


2  I  was  not  ever  thus,  nor  prayed  that  thou 

Shouldst  lead  me  on  : 
I  loved  to  choose  and  see  my  path  ;  but  now 
Lead  thou  me  on  ; 

3  loved  the  garish  day,  and,  spite  of  fears. 
Pride  ruled  my  will.    Remember  not  past  years. 

3  So  long  thy  power  has  blessed  me,  sure  it  still 

Will  lead  me  on 
O'er  moor  and  fen,  o'er  crag  and  torrent,  till 

The  night  is  gone  ; 
And  with  the  morn  those  angel  faces  smile 
Which  I  have  loved  long  since,  and  lost  awhile  ! 

John  Henry  Newman,  D.  D.,  was  born  in 
London,  February  21,  1801  ;  he  died  in  Bir- 
mingham, August  11,1890.  His  father  was 
a  banker.  His  mother  was  a  Huguenot,  and 
both  of  his  parents  were  decidedly  religious 
in  profession  and  life.  His  father  died  while 
he  was  very  young,  and  then  the  boy  was  sent 
away  to  school.  He  tells  us  that  from  a  child 
he  "  was  brought  up  to  take  great  delight  in 
reading  the  Bible." 

He  was  graduated  at  Trinity  College,  Ox- 
ford, in  1820,  and  in  Oriel  College  afterward 
he  became  a  tutor,  and  was  thrown  into  the 
association  and  companionship  of  Richard 
Hurrell  Froude.  In  1828  he  found  such 
friends  as  John  Keble  and  Edward  Bouverie 
Pusey.  With  those  men  commenced  what 
has  been  known  as  the  Oxford  movement  in 
the  English  Establishment.  The  candor  of 
Dr.  Newman's  narrative  reveals  a  singular 
state  of  mind  through  which  he  was  passing 
for  a  period  of  years.  He  says  he  was  dis- 
turbed in  his  faith  by  infidels  like  Paine  and 
Hume  and  Voltaire.  He  used  to  believe  in 
angels  living  here  among  men  disguised  as 
human  beings ;  he  got  into  the  habit  uncon- 
sciously of  making  the  sign  of  the  cross,  as 
Roman  Catholics  do ;  and  it  was  a  volume  of 
pious  old  Romaine  that  settled  his  confidence, 
and  then  he  moved  straight  on  till  he  became 
a  formal  communicant  in  the  Church  of  Rome 
at  the  last. 

From  the  papal  city  Dr.  Newman  went  to 
Sicily ;  there  he  fell  ill  close  unto  death.  But 
when  the  servant  came  to  him  for  the  last 
orders,  he  cried  out :  "  I  shall  not  die,  for  I 
have  not  sinned  against  light,  I  have  not 
sinned  against  light  I"  That  seemed  to  be 
the  burden  of  every  meditation.  He  gained 
strength,  and  departed  for  home  by  the  sea. 
In  the  calm  of  a  sultry  week,  when  the  sails 
would  not  stir,  out  between  the  two  islands 
of  Corsica  and  Sardinia,  he  composed  this 
hymn,  which  all  the  world  knows  and  sings 
with  universal  acceptance.  The  title  which 
the  author  affixed  to  it  was  "  The  Pillar  of 
the  Cloud."  It  was  first  published  in  the 
British  Magazine,  and  then  incorporated  in 
the  Lyra  Apostolica,  1836,  which  he  and  his 


DISCIPLINE   AND    SORROW. 


381 


fellow-travelers  had  already  begun  to  write 
while  they  were  in  the  city  of  Rome  together. 
There  were  only  three  stanzas  to  it  as  he 
wrote  it — these  are  the  three  we  have. 

He  came  home  to  begin  the  iiublication  of 
the  Oxford  Tracts.  That  small  company  of 
determined  friends  shook  the  British  Islands 
with  the  throes  of  a  passionate  discussion, 
never  violent  on  their  part,  but  always  vigor- 
ous and  often  intense.  It  was  not  until  1845 
that  Dr.  Newman  finally  was  received  into 
the  communion  of  the  Roman  Church.  The 
ecclesiastical  authorities  gave  him  an  enthu- 
siastic welcome,  and  rewarded  him  with 
their  honors.  He  was  made  the  rector  of  a 
university  in  Dublin,  and  ultimately  there  was 
given  him  a  cardinal's  hat  in  1879.  Lat- 
terly he  made  his  home  at  Birmingham  ;  but 
his  old  age  drew  him  aside  from  public  life. 

333  "  Thyivill  be  done:''  8s,  4s. 

My  God,  my  Father!  while  I  stray 
Far  from  mv  home,  in  life's  rough  way, 
Oa !  teach  me  from  my  heart  to  say, 
Thy  will  be  done. 

2  If  thou  couldst  call  me  to  resign 
What  most  I  prize — it  ne'er  was  mine : 
I  only  yield  thee  what  was  thine ; 

Thy  will  be  done. 

3  If  but  my  fainting  heart  be  blest 
With  thy  sweet  Spirit  for  its  guest, 
My  God,  to  thee  I  leave  the  rest — 

Thy  will  be  done. 

4  Renew  my  will  from  day  to  day. 
Blend  it  with  thine,  and  take  away 
All  now  that  makes  it  hard  to  say. 

Thy  will  be  done. 

5  Then  when  on  earth  I  breathe  no  more 
The  prayer  oft  mixed  with  tears  before, 

I  '11  snig  upon  a  happier  shore, 
Thy  will  be  done. 

For  some  reason  or  other,  Miss  Charlotte 
Elliott  wrote  this  piece  over  four  times,  and 
issued  the  text  in  various  books.  Hence  the 
confusion  as  to  the  legitimate  form  she  pre- 
ferred. The  one  before  us  is  the  earliest  of 
them  all,  and  is  found  in  the  Appendix  to  the 
first  edition  of  the  Invalid's  Hymn  Book, 
1834.  In  the  general  acceptance  of  Christian 
people  this  ranks  next  to  the  author's 
"  Just  as  I  am."  It  has  been  translated  into 
almost  all  the  modern  languages,  notably 
into  German  and  French,  as  well  as  into  the 
stately  rhythm  of  the  Latin  tongue.  The 
point  of  the  sentiment  is  found  in  the  re- 
frain. Said  the  poet  Goethe  once  :  "  Only 
with  self-renunciation  can  the  divine  life  be 
said  to  begin." 

884  Resting  in  God. 

Since  thy  Father's  arm  sustains  thee. 

Peaceful  be  ; 
When  a  chastening  hand  restrains  thee. 

It  is  he ! 


P.M. 


Know  his  love  in  full  completeness 
Fills  the  measure  of  thy  weakness ; 
If  he  wound  thy  spirit  sore, 
Trust  him  more.    ' 

2  Without  murmur,  uncomplaining. 

In  his  hand 
Lay  whatever  things  thou  canst  not 

Understand  : 
Though  the  world  thy  folly  spurneth, 
From  thy  faith  in  pity  turneth, 
Peace  thy  inmost  soul  shall  fill — 

Lying  still. 

3  Fearest  sometimes  that  thy  Father 

Hath  forgot  ? 
When  the  clouds  around  thee  gather. 

Doubt  him  not ! 
Always  hath  the  daylight  broken— 
Always  hath  he  comfort  spoken- 
Better  hath  he  been  for  years 

Than  thy  fears. 

4  To  his  own  thy  Saviour  giveth 

Daily  strength ; 
To  each  troubled  soul  that  liveth 

Peace  at  length  : 
Weakest  lambs  have  largest  sharing 
Of  this  tender  Shepherd's  caring; 
Ask  him  not,  then — when  or  how — 

Only  bow. 

This  is  the  translation  by  an  unknown  au- 
thor from  a  German  poem.  Rev.  Carl  Ru- 
dolph Hagenbach,  D.  D.,  was  born  at  Basel, 
Germany,  March  4,  1 801,  and  studied  at  the 
Universities  of  Basel,  Bonn,  and  Berlin.  On 
returning  to  his  native  town  he  was  appointed 
Professor  of  Church  History,  and  his  life  was 
spent  in  this  work,  his  death  occurring  June  7, 
1874.  A  volume  of  his  poems  was  pub- 
lished in  1 846,  and  in  this  appeared  the  orig- 
inal of  our  hymn.  The  English  version  was 
first  printed  in  \}at  Family  Treasury,  1861, 
and  has  since  been  included  in  many  collec- 
tions, sometimes  bearing  appended  to  it, 
"  translated  by  'H.  A.  P.'  "  The  sentiment 
of  the  hymn  is  a  sense  of  the  necessity  of 
our  coming  often  to  Christ  in  our  daily  life, 
not  only  for  our  own  wants,  but  also  for 
those  of  others.  In  him  alone  lies  help  for 
all  our  need,  whatever  it  may  be.  Full  of 
quaintness  and  yet  of  homely  power,  is  a 
story  told  by  Rev.  C.  H.  Spurgeon  of  an  in- 
cident on  a  European  trip.  "  I  was  in  Co- 
logne on  a  very  rainy  day,  and  I  was  looking 
out  for  similes  and  metaphors,  as  I  generally 
am,  but  I  had  nothing  on  earth  to  look  at  in  the 
square  of  the  city  but  an  old  pump,  and  what 
kind  of  a  simile  I  could  make  out  of  it  I 
could  not  tell.  All  traffic  seemed  suspended, 
it  rained  so  hard;  but  I  noticed  a  woman 
come  to  the  pump  with  a  bucket.  Presently 
I  noticed  a  man  come  in  with  a  bucket,  nay, 
he  came  with  a  yoke  and  two  buckets.  As  I 
kept  on  writing  and  looking  out  every  now 
and  then,  I  saw  the  .same  friend  with  the 
often-buckets  and  the  blue  blouse  coming  to 
the  same  pump  again.     In  the  course  of  the 


38^ 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


morning  I  think  I  saw  him  a  dozen  times.  I 
thought  to  myself,  '  Ah,  you  do  not  fetch 
water  for  your  own  house,  I  am  persuaded  ; 
you  are  a  water-carrier  ;  you  fetch  water  for 
lots  of  people,  and  that  is  why  you  come  of- 
tener  than  anybody  else.'  Now  there  was  a 
meaning  in  that  at  once  to  my  soul,  that  in- 
asmuch as  I  had  not  only  to  go  to  Christ 
for  myself,  but  had  been  made  a  water-car- 
rier to  carry  the  water  of  everlasting  life  to 
others,  I  must  come  a  great  deal  oftener  than 
anybody  else." 

885  ^  Hymn  of  Trust.  C.  M. 

1  CANNOT  tell  if  short  or  long 
My  earthly  journey  be  ; 

But,  all  the  way,  I  know  thy  rod 
And  staff  will  comfort  me. 

2  Though  fierce  temptations  lie  in  wait, 
What  need  have  I  to  care  ? 

Thou  wilt  not  suffer  tliem  to  hurt 
Beyond  my  strength  to  bear. 

3  What  storms  may  beat,  what  burdens  fall, 
My  soul  would  not  avoid  ; 

Who  follows  thee,  O  Lord,  may  be 
Cast  down,  but  not  destroyed. 

4  Though  over  steep  and  rugged  ways 
My  weary  feet  be  brought, 

Still  following  where  thy  footprints  lead, 
I  take  no  anxious  thought. 

5  Oh,  perfect  peace  !  oh,  endless  rest ! 
No  care,  no  vain  alarms ; 

Beneath  my  every  cross  I  find 
The  Everlasting  Arms. 

Nothing  is  known  of  the  author  of  this 
hymn,  Miss  H.  O.  Knowlton,  except  that  she 
was  a  school-girl  in  Illinois  at  the  time  it  was 
written.  It  was  first  published  in  Laudes 
Domini,  in  1884,  and  entitled  "  A  Hymn  of 
Trust."  It  is  the  expression  of  an  absolute 
confidence  in  God's  guidance  through  the 
many  difiRculties  and  dangers  of  life,  as  well 
as  a  recognition  of  the  fact  that  the  divine 
leading  is  the  only  one  upon  which  it  is  safe 
for  us  to  rely.  A  very  famous  Welsh  preacher 
was  using  for  his  text  the  words  of  the  apostle's 
counsel,  "  See,  then,  that  ye  walk  circumspect- 
ly," and  he  began  his  sermon  with  this  remark- 
able strain  of  rhetoric:  "  Did  you,  my  brethren, 
ever  notice,  when  you  happened  to  be  looking 
from  the  back  window  of  your  house,  a  cat 
making  her  devious  way  across  the  line  of 
wall  separating  you  from  your  neighbor  }  For 
some  reason  or  other  that  barrier  had  never 
been  constructed  in  a  very  hospitable  manner. 
Indeed,  it  had  a  belligerent  aspect  from  the 
fact  of  its  having  been  crowned  with  the  rag- 
ged edges  of  broken  glass  bottles  set  heavily 
in  the  mortar  which  held  them  upright,  as  if 
they  had  grown  out  of  the  stone.  Your  feline 
friend,  as  she  advanced   along  the  perilous 


path,  selected  her  footsteps  with  the  utmost 
precision,  planting  her  feet  with  wonderful  in- 
genuity upon  the  smooth  spots  which  lay  be- 
tween the  keen  edges  of  the  glass  she  had  to 
encounter.  As  you  watched  her  in  the  transit, 
it  would  seem  as  if  you  must  have  gained  a 
better  imderstanding  of  the  apostle's  words," 
and  here  the  preacher's  tones  grew  solemn 
and  his  speech  hesitant  as  with  strange  and 
graphic  gesticulation  he  seemed  in  imagina- 
tion to  be  following  the  animal  through  its 
dangerous  course  :  "  See — then — that — ye — 
walk — circumspectly." 

This  quaint  commencement  insured  the 
attention  of  his  people  and  a  forcible  impres- 
sion of  the  truth  on  their  lives.  There  is  no 
royal  road  to  excellence.  Life  is  full  of  peril 
from  beginning  to  end.  God  has  promised 
to  guard  his  chosen  by  his  providence,  but  his 
measures  of  guardianship  are  usually  unseen. 
Much  lies,  therefore,  upon  the  responsibility 
of  each  individual  for  himself.  It  is  not 
always,  nor  even  in  the  majority  of  instances 
among  our  American  youth,  true  that  it  is 
wilfulness  which  leads  young  men  and  young 
women  astray  so  much  as  it  is  simple  thought- 
lessness. It  is  a  good  thing  to  learn  to  put 
one's  foot  down  firmly,  but  it  depends  a  great 
deal  upon  what  you  put  it  down  on.  There 
is  no  use  in  homilizing  just  here ;  we  believe 
that  our  counsel  will  be  most  acceptable  and 
most  pertinently  made  if  we  leave  it  in  the 
hands  of  the  bright  old  Welsh  preacher,  call- 
ing your  attention  to  his  text :  "  See,  then,  that 
ye  walk  circumspectly." 

886  Progress.  8s,  7s. 

Like  the  eagle,  upward,  onward, 

Let  my  soul  in  faith  be  borne; 

Calmly  gazing  skyward,  sunward, 

Let  my  eye  unshrinking  turn. 

2  Where  the  cross,  God's  love  revealing. 
Sets  the  fettered  spirit  free. 

Where  it  sheds  its  wondrous  healing, 
There,  my  soul,  thy  rest  shall  be  ! 

3  Oh,  may  I  no  longer,  dreaming, 
Idly  waste  my  golden  day. 

But,  each  precious  hour  redeeming. 
Upward,  onward,  press  my  way. 

Another  of  Dr.  Horatius  Bonar's  stirring 
calls  to  growth  in  grace  and  duty.  It  is 
taken  from  one  of  his  long  poems  in  Hytnns 
of  Faith  and  Hope,  1857.  Allusion  is  made 
to  the  promise  given  of  old,  Isaiah  40:  31: 
"  But  they  that  wait  upon  the  Lord  shall  re- 
new their  strength ;  they  shall  mount  up  with 
wings  as  eagles  ;  they  shall  run  and  not  be 
weary :  and  they  shall  walk  and  not  faint." 
What  we  want  is  a  little  more  imagination  in 
labor  ;  a  small  amount,  at  least,  of  poetic  en- 
thusiasm.    Some   of    us  have  seen  a  fire- 


ACTIVITY   AND   ZEAL. 


383 


engine  on  gala- day  covered  with  its  flowers 
and  glittering  with  its  gilt  and  crimson  stripes. 
And  perhaps  we  have  smiled  somewhat  cynic- 
ally at  the  show  of  red  coats  and  white  belts, 
the  brass  of  the  trumpet  or  the  patent  luster 
on  the  leather  hat.  But  have  we  never  seen 
them  together,  the  engine  and  the  workers, 
taken  suddenly  from  the  procession  at  the 
sound  of  a  bell.-*  and  have  we  marked  how 
amid  the  roar  of  conflagration  and  the  falling 
of  timbers  the  loud  tone  of  command  went 
ringing  through  the  very  trumpet  we  laughed 
at,  and  how  powerfully  those  painted  brakes 
kept  time  with  their  thumping,  while  the  hiss 
of  the  rushing  water  seemed  to  sneer  at  the 
flame  as  it  stifled  it  ?  We  saw  then  the  need 
of  some  usefulness  under  the  beauty,  as  we 
had  seen  before  the  beauty  overlying  the  use- 
fulness. And  when  we  looked  upon  those  same 
bright  garments  soaked  with  the  spray  and 
begrimed  with  the  cinders,  then  we  felt  there 
was  no  less  of  manliness  in  the  stalwart  arms 
for  all  that  the  red  coats  covered  them ;  and 
we  felt  how  much  more  beautiful  hereafter 
would  the  parade  decorations  appear  to  all 
who  remembered  the  power  in  the  sinewy 
arms,  uncrippled  by  the  flowers  and  gold. 

Now,  the  secret  of  all  cheerful,  useful  life 
is  found  in  putting  a  measure  of  imagination 
into  toil.  Think  all  the  time  what  it  is  for  ; 
how  finely  it  will  end  ;  how  well  it  looks  ;  and 
remember  who  loves  us  and  cares  for  us  to 
the  end  of  it. 

887  "  Leaving  us  an  example.'^  85,73. 

Onward,  Christian,  though  the  region 
Where  thou  art  be  drear  and  lone  ; 

God  has  set  a  guardian  legion 
Very  near  thee ;  press  thou  on. 

2  By  the  thorn-road,  and  none  other, 
Is  the  mount  of  vision  won  : 

Tread  it  without  shrinking,  brother — 
Jesus  trod  it ;  press  thou  on. 

3  Be  this  world  the  wiser,  stronger, 
For  thy  life  of  pain  and  peace ; 

While  it  needs  thee,  oh  !  no  longer 
Pray  thou  for  thy  quick  release. 

4  Pray  thou,  Christian,  daily  rather, 
That  thou  be  a  faithful  son  ; 

By  the  prayer  of  Jesus,  "  Father, 
Not  my  will,  but  thine,  be  done." 

Another  of  Rev.  Samuel  Johnson's  contri- 
butions to  A  Book  of  Hymns,  1 846 ;  it  was 
afterward  altered  a  little  for  the  Hymns  of 
the  Spirit,  1864.  It  is  entitled  "Conflict;" 
and,  without  any  lachrymose  or  sentimental 
view  of  life,  it  suggests  that  a  Christian, 
should  take  up  his  commonplace  duties  with 
a  plucky  heart.  The  ambition  we  most  fre- 
quently meet  consists  in  self-seeking.  That 
is  the  way  we  expect  to  become  great ;  while 


the  true  way  is  not  to  become  but  be  great, 
and  that  at  once  and  by  ourselves.  He  is 
great  who  is  earnest  and  faithful,  where  he  is 
and  as  he  is,  whether  he  knows  it,  or  the 
world  knows  it,  or  nobody  knows  it.  Let  a 
man  do  his  simple  duty,  straining  at  nothing, 
aping  no  one,  and  he  will  eventuate  great 
things.  A  higher  use,  a  deeper  meaning,  is 
always  working  itself  out  in  what  a  true  man 
accomplishes.  He  does  the  little  things,  and 
finds  they  are  great  things  after  all.  The  old 
fable  of  Scandinavian  mythology  is  the  type 
of  human  life.  The  giant-deity  Thor  was 
once  set  to  drain  a  drinking-horn  whose 
waters  fled  from  his  lips  as  he  touched  them. 
And  then  he  was  bidden  to  wrestle  with  a 
hag  whose  sinewy  hands  shook  his  frame  till 
it  quivered.  Then  he  was  commanded  to 
race  with  a  courser  whose  very  feet  spurned 
the  milestones  on  the  rapid  way.  He  tri- 
umphed at  last  in  all  these  labors,  and  when 
they  shouted  his  praises  in  the  halls  of  the 
demigods  as  chief  in  exploits,  he  found  he 
had  been  wrestling  with  Old  Age,  racing  with 
Thought,  and  drinking  the  sea.  Does  any 
one  say  this  is  heathen  .''  Let  him  remember 
that  one  who  was  not  a  heathen  wrestled  by 
the  brook  Jabbok  with  what  he  thought  was 
a  man — it  proved  to  be  an  angel ;  and  then 
he  wrestled  the  harder,  and  it  proved  to  be 
God. 

888  Psalm  127.  8s,  7s. 

Vainly,  through  night's  weary  hours, 
Keep  we  watch,  lest  foes  alarm  ; 

Vain  our  bulwarks  and  our  towers. 
But  for  God's  protecting  arm. 

2  Vain  were  all  our  toil  and  labor. 
Did  not  God  that  labor  bless ; 

Vain,  without  his  grace  and  favor. 
Every  talent  we  possess. 

3  Vainer  still  the  hope  of  heaven 
That  on  human  strength  relies; 

But  to  him  shall  help  be  given 
Who  in  humble  faith  applies. 

4  Seek  we,  then,  the  Lord's  Anointed  ; 
He  will  grant  us  peace  and  rest  ; 

Ne'er  was  suppliant  disappointed 
Who  thro'  Christ  his  prayer  addressed. 

In  a  book  called  the  Spirit  of  the  Psalms, 
by  Miss  Harriet  Auber,  published  in  London, 
1829,  this  hymn  first  appeared.  It  is  a  poet- 
ical version  of  the  first  verses  of  Psalm  1 27, 
which  assure  us  that  all  earthly  efforts  are 
useless  unless  they  are  blessed  by  the  divine 
power.  With  that  help  from  above,  no  en- 
deavor is  too  humble  to  deserve  a  blessing  as 
often  as  it  may  be  asked.  Self-seeking  in 
religious  work  is  excluded.  Here  is  given  a 
possible  explanation  of  unexpected  failures  in 
great  projects.     He  who  is  bravest  and  truest 


384 


CHRISTIAN   EXPERIENCE. 


is  ever  the  one  to  recognize  most  humbly  just 
wherein  his  disaster  lies,  when  all  his  plans 
come  to  naught.  It  seems  to  me  there  is  no 
more  pathetic  record  in  all  biography  than 
that  which  the  honored  Chalmers  left  for  him- 
self. He  had  lived  long  enough  to  hear  his 
favorite  project  to  relieve  Britain  of  pauper- 
ism pronounced  a  failure.  Then  he  wrote 
this  :  "  I  have  been  set  on  the  erection  of 
my  Babel.  I  have  trusted  more  to  my  own 
arguments  and  combinations  among  my  fol- 
lowers, than  to  prayers.  And  though  I  can- 
not resign  my  convictions,  I  must  now — and 
surely  it  is  good  to  be  so  taught — I  must 
now,  under  the  experimental  sense  of  my  own 
helplessness,  acknowledge  with  all  humility, 
yet  with  hope  in  the  efficacy  of  a  blessing 
from  on  high,  still  in  reserve  for  the  day  of 
God's  own  appointed  time,  that  except  the 
Lord  build  the  house,  the  builders  labor  in 
vain !  "  Oh,  what  a  sight  is  this  !  The  old 
veteran  soldier  of  the  cross,  bringing  his 
sword,  and  quietly  laying  it  down  at  eventide, 
confessing  even  with  tears  that  though  he  be- 
lieves the  temper  of  the  weapon  is  still  good, 
yet  because  of  the  weakness  of  his  arm  and 
the  faithlessness  of  his  heart,  the  enemy  is 
still  unvanquished.  Surely  never  was  this 
great  Scotchman  so  great  as  when  he  humbled 
himself  thus  to  be  useful. 

889  Courage  and  Faith.  8s,  7s. 

Father,  hear  the  prayer  we  offer  ! 

Not  for  ease  that  prayer  shall  be, 
But  for  strength  that  we  may  ever 

Live  our  lives  courageously. 

2  Not  for  ever  by  still  waters 
Would  we  idly  quiet  stay : 

But  would  smite  the  living  fountains 
From  the  rocks  along  our  way. 

3  Be  our  strength  in  hours  of  weakness, 
In  our  wanderings  be  our  guide  : 

Through  endeavor,  failure,  danger, 
Father,  be  thou  at  our  side  ! 

This  poem  appeared  anonymously  in 
Psalms  of  Life,  1857,  and  although  it  has 
since  been  republished  in  many  collections, 
its  authorship  remains  unknown.  It  is  a  pe- 
tition for  faith  and  strength,  that  we  may  be 
valiant  soldiers  in  the  struggle  of  life.  What 
it  is  that  makes  men  invincible,  we  may 
learn  from  the  concluding  portion  of  an  ad- 
dress on  his  own  career  delivered  recently  by 
Professor  Tyndall,  the  eminent  scientist.  "  I 
beg  you  to  accept  my  address  as  a  fragment 
of  the  life  of  a  brother  who  had  felt  the  scars 
of  the  battle  in  which  many  of  you  are  now  en- 
gaged. Duty  has  been  mentioned  as  my  mo- 
tive force.  In  Germany  one  heard  this  word 
much  more  frequently  than  the  word  glory. 
I  asked  two  Prussian  officers   whom  I   met 


in  the  summer  of  1871,  at  Pontresina,  how 
the  German  troops  behaved  when  going  into 
battle,  did  they  cheer  and  encourage  each 
other.  The  reply  I  received  was :  Never  in 
our  experience  has  the  cry,  '  Wir  mussen 
siegen ' — we  must  conquer — been  heard  from 
German  soldiers  ;  but  in  a  hundred  instances 
we  have  heard  them  resolutely  exclaim,  '  Wzr 
mussen  unsere  Pflicht  Ihun  ' — we  must  do 
our  duty.  It  was  a  sense  of  duty  rather  than 
love  of  glory  that  strengthened  those  men  and 
filled  them  w-ith  an  invincible  heroism.  We 
in  England  have  always  liked  the  iron  ring 
of  the  word '  duty.'  It  was  Nelson's  talisman 
at  Trafalgar.  It  was  the  guiding  star  of  Wel- 
lington." 


890 


Benevolent  Efforts. 

Cast  thy  bread  upon  the  waters, 
Thinking  not  't  is  thrown  away ; 

God  himself  saith  thou  shalt  gather 
It  again  some  future  day. 

2  Cast  thy  bread  upon  the  waters ; 
Wildly  though  the  billows  roll. 

They  but  aid  thee  as  thou  toilest 
Truth  to  spread  from  pole  to  pole. 

3  As  the  seed,  by  billows  floated 
To  some  distant  island  lone, 

So  to  human  souls  benighted 
That  thou  flingest  may  be  borne. 

4  Cast  thy  bread  upon  the  waters ; 
Why  wilt  thou  still  doubting  stand  ? 

Bounteous  shall  God  send  the  harvest. 
If  thou  sow'st  with  liberal  hand. 


8s,  7s. 


■X- :  ■ 


>•*% 


REV.    P.    A.   HANAFORD. 


This  hymn  was  written  by  Rev.  Phoebe  A. 
Hanaford,  now  residing  in  New  York  City. 
She  is  a  regularly  ordained  minister  in  the 
Universalist  denomination.  She  was  born 
on  the  island  of  Nantucket,  May  6,  1 829,  and 
is  a  descendant  of  Tristram  Coffin,  the  first 
chief  magistrate  there,  and  as  well  of  Peter 


ACTIVITY   AND   ZEAL. 


58s 


Folger,  the  grandfather  of  Benjamin  Franklin. 
She  was  educated  under  the  care  and  super- 
vision of  Rev  Ethan  Allen,  rector  of  St.  Paul's 
Episcopal  C'hurch,  in  her  native  village.  In 
1849  she  was  married  to  Joseph  H.  Hana- 
ford,  and  has  two  children,  a  son  and  a 
daughter. 

In  1868.  after  a  year's  preaching  in  the 
place,  she  was  ordained  as  pastor  of  the  Uni- 
versalist  church  in  Hingham,  Mass.  In  1870 
she  removed  to  New  Haven,  Conn.,  and 
resumed  the  pastoral  office  in  a  church 
there.  She  removed  to  Jersey  City,  N.  J.,  in 
1874,  in  order  to  take  charge  of  the  "  Church 
of  the  Good  Shepherd  "  on  the  Heights.  It  is 
likely  that  she  was  the  first  woman  ever  or- 
dained as  a  preacher  in  New  England. 

Mrs.  Hanaford  has  been  one  of  the  most 
voluminous'  writers  of  prose  and  poetry.  She 
has  edited  and  lectured  all  through  her 
career,  and  is  busily  occupied  in  contributions 
and  addresses  to  this  day.  She  has  served 
as  Chaplain  in  the  Connecticut  Legislature, 
has  delivered  the  charge  when  a  man  was 
ordained.  She  married  her  own  daughter, 
and  claims  to  be  the  first,  if  not  the  only,  wo- 
man that  ever  responded  in  a  Masonic  Festi- 
val to  a  toast.  She  is  a  very  lady-like,  mod- 
est, and  unassuming  woman,  with  many 
friends.  This  hymn  was  written  for  the 
Home  Mission  Record ;  it  was  a  waif  in  the 
newspapers,  and  has  been  kept  alive  in  the 
hymnals.  It  is  founded  upon  Ecclesiastes 
II  :  I. 

391  "Nut  your  own."  8s,  7s. 

Lord  of  glory  !  thou  hast  bought  us, 

With  thy  Ufe-blood  as  the  prite, 
Never  grudgino;,  for  the  lost  ones, 

That  tremendous  sacrifice. 

2  Grant  us  hearts,  dear  Lord !  to  yield  thee 
Gladly,  freely,  of  thine  own  ; 

With  the  sunshine  of  thy  goodness 
Melt  our  thankless  hearts  of  stone. 

3  Wondrous  honor  hast  thou  given 
To  our  humblest  charity, 

In  thine  own  mysterious  sentence — 
"  Ye  have  done  it  unto  me !" 

4  Give  us  faith,  to  trust  thee  boldly, 
Hope,  to  stay  our  souls  on  thee : 

But,  oh — best  of  all  thy  graces — 
Give  us  thine  own  charity. 

Mrs.  Eliza  Sibbald  Alderson,  who  is  a  sis- 
ter of  Rev.  Dr.  Dykes,  was  born  in  181 8,  and 
married,  in  1850,  Rev.  W.  T.  Alderson,  who 
was  at  one  time  Chaplain  to  the  West  Riding 
House  of  Correction,  Wakefield.  This  hymn 
was  written  in  1864,  and  had  five  stanzas  of 
eight  lines  each  ;  but  was  not  published  until 
1868,  when  it  appeared  in  the  Appendix  to 
Hymns,  Ancient  and  Modern.  In  regard  to 
it,  the  author  says,  "  It  was  the  very  strong 


feeling  that  a  tithe  of  our  income  was  a  sol- 
emn debt  to  God  and  his  poor,  which  inspired 
it."  Some  most  excellent  and  worthy  work- 
ers in  the  church  of  Christ  become  discour- 
aged. They  have  no  wealth,  and  what  they 
can  set  apart  for  the  great  causes  seems  piti- 
fully meager.  No  words  in  the  Bible  are 
more  definite  than  these  :  "  It  is  required  of 
stewards  that  they  be  lound.  fait/iful."  Very 
well :  faithful  over  what .''  Over  what  God 
has  given  them ;  nothing  more.  Let  every 
one  be  true,  as  far  as  he  goes ;  and  Christ 
will  never  blame  him  for  not  going  farther. 
He  marks  well  and  with  grand  approval  all 
the  minor  ministries  of  affection  for  him.  He 
says :  "  If  there  first  be  a  cheerful  heart,  it  is 
accepted  according  to  that  a  man  hath,  and 
not  according  to  that  he  hath  not." 

892  Psalm  126:6.  8s,  7s. 

He  that  goeth  forth  with  weeping. 

Bearing  precious  seed  in  love, 
Never  tiring,  never  sleeping, 

Findeth  mercy  from  above. 

2  Soft  descend  the  dews  of  heaven, 
Bright  the  rays  celestial  shine; 

Precious  fruits  will  thus  be  given, 
Through  an  influence  all  divine. 

3  Sow  thy  seed,  be  never  wear>', 
Let  no  fears  thy  soul  annoy  ; 

Be  the  prospect  ne'er  so  drean-, 
Thou  shalt  reap  the  fruits  of  joy. 

4  Lo,  the  scene  of  verdure  brightening! 
See  the  rising  grain  appear; 

Look  again !  the  fields  are  whitening. 
For  the  harvest  time  is  near. 

This  well-known  hymn  by  Dr.  Thomas 
Hastings,  founded  on  Psalm  126:5,  6,  ap- 
peared first  in  his  Christian  Psalmist,  1836, 
and  has  become  a  favorite  with  churches  of 
every  denomination.  It  is  an  expression  of 
confidence  that  God  will  bless  with  rich  in- 
crease any  efforts  made  by  us  to  benefit  oth- 
ers. It  is  a  bad  principle  to  say,  "  We  have 
so  much  trouble  of  our  own,  we  will  help 
when  we  are  more  able,  or  have  more  time." 
We  must  give  our  bread,  invest  our  grain  for 
seed,  and  then  wait  trustfully  for  the  reaping. 
Our  aid  must  be  given  when  that  aid  is 
needed.  Consider  times  of  narrowness,  of 
panic,  of  business  depression,  as  offering  spe- 
cial occasion.  Then  the  poor  are  poorer  than 
ever.  And  yet  then  our  craven,  greedy  hu- 
man nature  is  most  inclined  to  run  to  cover. 
People  begin  to  retrench  because  of  clo.se 
markets ;  but  who  feel  close  markets  the 
most  ?  When  it  seems  as  if  we  had  noth- 
ing to  spare,  when  all  time  of  leisure  is  ex- 
hausted, when  one's  brain  is  heavy  with 
overwork,  then  our  first  impulse  is  to  draw 
aside  from  labor  among  the  poor.     But  the 


386 


CHRISTIAN   EXPERIENCE. 


slenderest  philosophy  ought  to  be  enough  to 
show  that  these  are  the  very  occasions  above 
all  others  when  the  need  is  most  pressing. 
What  we  feel  some,  the  poor  feel  more. 
What  if  some  cautious  sailor  on  a  vessel  of 
relief,  as  they  drift  near  a  sinking  wreck, 
should  coolly  reply  when  the  captain  ordered 
him  into  the  life-boat :  "  It  is  always  hard 
enough  to  go  out  in  the  water  to  save  people ; 
to-night  the  sea  is  stormier  than  usual ;  it  is 
really  dangerous  to  think  of  leaping  over- 
board 710W ;  these  billows  are  extraordinarily 
high  ;  the  air  is  chilly,  too  ;  and  then,  look  !  the 
ocean  is  positively  full  of  drowning  men  and 
women  ;  folks  say  that  drowning  females  will 
drag  one  right  under  most  thoughtlessly ;  it 
is  dreadful  to  think  of  it ;  why  do  not  people 
shipwreck  themselves  in  the  daytime,  and  in 
warm  weather  and  in  quiet  oceans  .'  It  is  as 
much  as  any  wise  seaman  can  do  now  to 
take  care  of  himself,  and  keep  ordinarily 
comfortable  till  the  storm  slacks  somewhat !" 

893  "  So  Jesus  looked."  CM. 

Father  of  mercies !  send  thy  grace, 

All-powerful  from  above, 
To  form  in  our  obedient  souls 

The  image  of  thy  love. 

2  Oh,  may  our  sympathizing  breasts 
The  generous  pleasures  know. 

Kindly  to  share  \n  others'  joy, 
And  weep  for  others'  woe  ! 

3  When  the  most  helpless  sons  of  grief 
In  low  distress  are  laid. 

Soft  be  our  hearts  their  pains  to  feel, 
And  swift  our  hands  to  aid. 

4  So  Jesus  looked  on  dying  men, 
When  throned  above  the  skies; 

And  'mid  the  embraces  of  his  God, 
He  felt  compassion  rise. 

5  On  wings  of  love  the  Saviour  flew. 
To  raise  us  from  the  ground, 

And  made  the  richest  of  his  blood 
A  balm  for  every  wound. 

This  hymn  was  written  by  Dr.  Philip  Dod- 
dridge, and  published  among  his  other  works 
in  1755.  It  bears  the  title  "  Sympathy,"  and 
its  central  thought  is  the  need  of  earnest,  piti- 
ful love  in  our  efforts  to  help  the  souls  of  our 
fellow-men.  There  is  too  little  delicate  sym- 
pathy for  human  weakness  in  our  clumsy 
effort  to  relieve  it.  We  do  not  respect  the 
solemn  reserves  of  each  soul  as  we  push,  in 
the  presence  of  others,  the  probes  of  our  ques- 
tioning into  its  wounds.  Souls  are  solitary 
when  they  wrestle  with  God's  angel.  They 
do  not  give  their  trust  easily,  and  never  unless 
they  know  it  is  to  a  true  friend.  Remember 
that  some  of  us  have  supreme  advantage  in 
this  respect.  "  God  is  love ;  and  he  that  dwell- 
eth  in  love  dwelleth  in  God,  and  God  in 
him."     That  is  true  for  all,  and  yet  not  every 


one  sees  it.  "  And  we  have  known  and  be- 
lieved the  love  that  God  hath  to  us."  Oh, 
yes  !  we  have  known  and  believed  God's  love ; 
but  men  who  hear  only  rough,  quick  words 
from  our  lips  cannot  believe  in  ours.  We 
must  make  them  reach  confidence  in  the  sin- 
cerity of  our  affection  by  supreme  endeavor 
of  patient  forbearance  and  regard.  Think  of 
the  faith  that  old  Crimean  soldier  had  in 
Florence  Nightingale  when  he  lifted  his  ach- 
ing body  up  just  to  kiss  her  shadow  as  it  sud- 
denly ran  along  the  wall ! 

894  God's  hidden  ones.  C.  M. 

Lord,  lead  the  way  the  Saviour  went, 

By  lane  and  cell  obscure. 
And  let  love's  treasures  still  be  spent, 

Like  his,  upon  the  poor. 

2  Like  him,  through  scenes  of  deep  distress, 
Who  bore  the  world's  sad  weight. 

We,  in  their  crowded  loneliness, 
Would  seek  the  desolate. 

3  For  thou  hast  placed  us  side  by  side 
In  this  wide  world  of  ill ; 

And  that  thy  followers  may  be  tried. 
The  poor  are  with  us  still. 

4  Mean  are  all  offerings  we  can  make; 
Yet  thou  hast  taught  us,  Lord, 

If  given  for  the  Saviour's  sake. 
They  lose  not  their  reward. 

Rev.  Dr.  William  Croswell  was  born  at 
Hudson,  N.  Y.,  November  7,  1804,  and  grad- 
uated at  Yale  College.  He  studied  law  at  first, 
but  subsequently  decided  to  enter  the  min- 
istry, and  took  Holy  Orders  in  1829,  when  he 
became  rector  of  Christ  Church,  Boston.  In 
1840  he  removed  to  St.  Peter's  Church  at  Au- 
burn, N.  Y.,  but  four  years  later  he  returned 
to  Boston  as  rector  of  the  Church  of  the  Ad- 
vent, where  he  remained  until  his  death,  No- 
vember 9,  1851.  YiA'i,  Poems,  collected  by  his 
father,  were  published  at  Boston  in  i860,  and 
contain  quite  a  number  of  hymns  which  are 
now  in  common  use.  The  one  here  given 
was  written  in  1831  for  the  meeting  of  a  be- 
nevolent society  in  Boston,  and  it  has  been 
generally  accepted  as  the  best  American  hymn 
for  similar  occasions.  It  is  a  plea  that  we 
should  strive  to  follow  Christ's  example,  and 
try  to  enter  into  the  life  of  those  who  are  poor 
and  desolate  and  oppressed.  It  is  unfortunate 
for  all  parties  concerned  that  laboring  men 
are  not  more  frequently  heard  in  their  own 
behalf.  Some  people  are  inclined  to  claim 
that  there  are  complications — not  a  few — pe- 
culiar to  our  own  times,  and  fresh  to  the  dis- 
cussion between  capital  and  labor.  Injustice 
has  often  been  done  merely  through  ignorance 
of  first  facts.  We  grow  very  angry  over  the 
inconvenience  we  feel  from  strikes  among 
work-people ;   and  we  upbraid  the  whole  of 


ACTIVITY   AND   ZEAL. 


387 


them  for  their  folly  in  harming  themselves,  as 
well  as  everybody  else,  by  their  spiteful  be- 
havior. We  clamor  at  the  extraordinary 
prices  they  demand  for  their  services.  We 
institute  ungenerous  comparisons  of  these 
times  with  those  which  came  earlier.  Dema- 
gogues declaim  against  the  unappeased  rest- 
lessness of  the  masses,  and  actually  talk  of 
force  as  becoming  necessary  to  coerce  them 
into  a  more  obsequious  silence  in  the  presence 
of  their  betters. 

Now  the  lion,  in  /Esop's  fable,  was  remind- 
ed that  he  had  been  pictured  always  with  the 
foot  of  a  man  upon  his  neck,  and  hence  he 
must  infer  his  own  inferiority.  Whereupon 
he  mildly  requested  that  he  might  be  permit- 
ted to  draw  the  picture  once ;  "  and  then," 
said  he,  "  we  shall  see  where  the  supremacy 
will  lie."  He  painted  the  paw  upon  the  man's 
neck  instead. 

It  becomes  a  serious  and  interesting  inquiry 
whether  there  is  yet  one  side  altogether  un- 
represented in  the  debate.  Is  it  a  settled  con- 
clusion, that,  in  all  the  present  conflict  of 
opinion,  laboring-men  have  no  case  at  all,  and 
must  be  immediately  thrown  out  of  court  ? 
Have  they  no  words  of  soberness  to  speak  to 
the  community,  no  message  of  solemn  ex- 
planation to  utter  in  the  ears  of  the  church- 
es ?  They  do  have  thus  much  to  say  to  the 
community  :  they  assert  that  all  the  old  hope 
to  work-people,  of  better  times  coming,  is 
gone.  They  repeat  with  wonderful  pathos 
that  "  The  good  time  coming,  boys,"  is  a 
good  long  time  a-coming  ! 

895  Minute  fidelity.  C.  M. 

Scorn  not  the  slightest  word  or  deed, 

Nor  deem  it  void  of  power; 
There  's  fruit  in  each  wind-wafted  seed 

That  waits  its  natal  hour. 

2  A  whispered  word  may  touch  the  heart, 
And  call  it  back  to  life ; 

A  look  of  love  bid  sin  depart, 
And  still  unholy  strife. 

3  No  act  falls  fruitless ;  none  can  tell 
How  vast  its  power  may  be, 

Nor  what  results  infolded  dwell 
Within  it  silently. 

4  Work  on,  despair  not,  bring  thy  mite, 
Nor  care  how  small  it  be ; 

God  is  with  all  that  serve  the  right, 
The  holy,  true,  and  free. 

No  account  is  given  of  the  authorship  of  this 
small  poem ;  it  can  hardly  be  called  a  hymn  ; 
still  it  takes  the  place  of  one,  and  it  has  a  sort 
of  appropriateness  at  the  close  of  a  charity 
service,  or  the  like.  In  some  of  the  collec- 
tions where  it  appears  it  is  credited  to  the 
London  Inquirer.  An  illustration  of  its  senti- 
ment can  be  found  in  an  incident  of  Rev. 


Charles  H.  Spurgeon's  early  history,  vouched 
for  as  true.  Thirty  years  ago  or  more  he  was 
invited  to  preach  in  the  vast  Crystal  Palace 
at  Sydenham.  Would  his  voice  fill  the  im- 
mense area  ?  Resolving  to  test  it,  he  went  in 
the  morning  to  the  building,  and  thinking  for 
a  passage  of  Scripture  to  repeat,  this,  as  he 
reached  the  stage,  came  to  mind :  "  It  is  a 
faithful  saying,  and  worthy  of  all  acceptation, 
that  Christ  Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save 
sinners."  Pronouncing  the  words,  he  felt  sure 
that  he  would  be  heard,  and  then  repeated 
the  verse  in  a  softer  tone.  More  than  a  quar- 
ter of  a  century  later  Mr.  Spurgeon's  brother, 
who  is  also  a  pastor,  was  called  to  the  bed- 
side of  a  man,  an  artisan,  who  was  near  his 
end.  "  Are  you  ready  to  die  ?"  asked  the 
pastor.  "  Oh,  yes  !"  answered  the  man,  with  a 
modest  but  firm  measure  of  assurance.  "  Can 
you  tell  me  how  you  obtained  the  salvation  of 
your  soul  }"  he  inquired  again,  very  earnestly. 
"  It  is  very  simple,"  said  the  artisan,  his  face 
radiant  with  joy.  "  I  am  a  plumber  by  trade. 
Some  years  ago  I  was  working  under  the 
dome  of  the  Crystal  Palace,  and  thought  my- 
self entirely  alone.  I  was  without  God  and 
without  hope.  All  at  once  I  heard  a  voice 
coming  from  heaven  which  said :  '  It  is  a  faith- 
ful saying,  and  worthy  of  all  acceptation,  that 
Christ  Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save  sin- 
ners.' By  the  meaning  of  these  words  I  was 
convinced  of  sin ;  Jesus  Christ  appeared  to 
me  as  my  Saviour.  I  accepted  him  in  my 
heart  as  such  at  the  same  moment,  and  I  have 
served  him  ever  since." 

896  Psalm  \i.  CM. 

Blest  is  the  man  whose  softening  heart 

Feels  all  another's  pain  ; 
To  whom  the  supplicating  eye 

Was  never  raised  in  vain  :— 

2  Whose  breast  expands  with  generous  warmth 
A  stranger's  woes  to  feel ; 

And  bleeds  in  pity  o'er  the  wound 
He  wants  the  power  to  heal. 

3  He  spreads  his  kind  supporting  arms 
To  every  child  of  grief; 

His  secret  bounty  largely  flows. 
And  brings  unasked  relief. 

4  To  gentle  offices  of  love 
His  feet  are  never  slow  : 

He  views,  through  mercy's  melting  eye, 
A  brother  in  a  foe. 

5  Peace  from  the  bosom  of  his  God 
The  Saviour's  grace  shall  give ; 

And,  when  he  kneels  before  the  throne. 
His  trembling  soul  shall  live. 

The  story  of  this  gifted  woman,  Mrs.  Anna 
Laetitia  Barbauld,  who  wrote  the  hymn  before 
us,  is  in  all  the  annotated  hymnals  on  both 
sides  of  the  sea.  She  did  not  give  many  of 
her  compositions  to  the  churches  at  large,  but 


388 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


MRS.    A.    L.    BARBAULD. 

what  have  come  down  into  use  are  appro- 
priate for  special  purposes.  This  one  is  an 
excellent  charity  hymn,  and  deals  with  inner 
motives  and  delicate  considerations  in  admin- 
istering help  to  the  sons  and  daughters  of 
poverty.  The  great  English  critic,  Ruskin, 
used  to  direct  attention  to  the  phraseology  of 
the  verse,  "  Blessed  is  he  that  considereth  the 
poor ;"  he  insisted  that  emphasis  should  be 
thrown  upon  the  word  "  considereth,"  as  inti- 
mating that  it  was  not  the  pittance  bestowed, 
but  the  feeling  of  putting  one's  self  in  the 
place  of  the  needy  brother,  which  gave  to  the 
bestowment  of  alms  its  intrinsic  value. 

Mrs.  Barbauld  was  born  June  20,  1743,  at 
Kibworth,  Leicestershire,  England,  where  her 
father,  Dr.  John  Aikin,  was  a  schoolmaster. 
She  was  highly  educated,  proficient  in  Latin 
and  Greek,  as  well  as  in  all  the  acquirements 
of  elegant  scholarship.  Her  admirers  were 
wont  to  speak  of  her  personal  charms,  fine 
figure,  and  dark-blue  eyes,  as  well  as  of  her 
brilliant  accomplishments.  In  1774  she  was 
married  to  the  Rev.  Rochemont  Barbauld,  a 
Unitarian  minister  of  French  descent,  who 
kept  school  at  Palgrave,  in  Suffolk ;  she  be- 
came his  assistant  in  the  regular  duties  of  in- 
struction during  the  next  eleven  years.  No- 
body seems  to  speak  in  terms  of  satisfaction 
of  this  man.  He  became  crazy  after  awhile, 
and  so  dangerous  that  she  was  in  peril  of  her 
life.  He  attacked  her  with  a  knife,  and  she 
put  him  in  an  asylum,  from  which  he  escaped 
and  ultimately  drowned  himself ;  and  she 
wrote  "  an  affecting  dirge."  The  poetess  pub- 
lished many  works,  lived  to  be  over  eighty 
years  old,  beloved  and  honored  and  useful, 
and  died  March  9,  1825,  mourned  by  all. 


897  Beneficence,  C.  M. 

Jesus,  our  Lord,  how  rich  thy  grace ! 

Thy  bounties  how  complete ! 
How  shall  we  count  the  matchless  sum  f 

How  pay  the  mighty  debt  ? 

2  High  on  a  throne  of  radiant  light 
Dost  thou  exalted  shine  ; 

What  can  our  poverty  bestow, 
When  all  the  worlds  are  thine? 

3  But  thou  hast  brethren  here  below, 
The  partners  of  thy  grace, 

And  wilt  confess  their  humble  names 
Before  thy  Father's  face. 

4  In  them  thou  mayst  be  clothed  and  fed, 
And  visited  and  cheered ; 

And  in  their  accents  of  distress 
Our  Saviour's  voice  is  heard. 

Rev.  Dr.  Philip  Doddridge  has  giverl  us  a 
notion  of  practical  beneficence  in  this  hymn ; 
in  his  book,  1755,  it  is  No.  188,  and  is  entitled 
"  Relieving  Christ  in  His  Poor  Saints.  Mat- 
thew 25:40."  The  best  illustration  of  the 
sentiment,  perhaps,  is  furnished  in  a  commu- 
nication addressed  to  the  Scotch  Letter  de- 
partment of  a  religious  journal.  The  writer 
is  simply  describing  the  way  in  which  our 
foreign  neighbors  blend  spirituality  of  enjoy- 
ment with  commonplace  duty.  He  says  :  "  A 
few^  Sundays  ago,  in  a  parish  church  not  a 
hundred  miles  from  where  I  write,  the  even- 
ing service  was  so  poorly  attended  that  the 
minister  entered  the  pulpit  only  to  dismiss 
the  very  small  congregation  with  a  benedic- 
tion, and  with  the  remark  that  the  meager  at- 
tendance did  not  warrant  him  in  entering  fur- 
ther on  the  service.  But  he  kept  the  coppers ; 
the  collection  was  not  '  returned  at  the  doors.' 
The  collection,  nevertheless,  is  a  strong  point 
in  Highland  churches.  A  famous  Highland 
minister  once  announced  for  the  following 
Sabbath  a  collection  for  foreign  missicns, 
which,  he  said,  would  be  taken  at  the  Gaelic 
and  the  English  services,  so  that  '  every  one 
would  have  the  preevilege  of  contreebuting 
in  his  own  language.'  The  Highlanders,  too, 
are  not  unaccustomed  to  having  blank  Sun- 
days during  winter  and  spring,  a  circumstance 
quaintly  embodied  in  the  announcement  of 
one  patriarch,  that  '  there  will  be  no  Lord's 
day  here  next  Sabbath.'  The  beadle,  or  min- 
ister's man,  is  a  great  institution  in  these 
parts.  He  is  a  very  fountain  of  shrewdness 
and  self-sufficiency." 

398  More  laborers.  C.  M. 

Oh,  still  in  accents  sweet  and  strong 
Sounds  forth  the  ancient  word  : 
"  More  reapers  for  white  harvest  fields. 
More  laborers  for  the  Lord  !" 

2  We  hear  the  call ;  in  dreams  no  more 

In  selfish  ease  we  lie, 
But,  girded  for  our  Father's  work, 

Go  forth  beneath  his  sky. 


ACTIVITY    AND   ZEAL. 


389 


3  Where  prophets'  word,  and  martyrs'  blood, 
And  prayers  of  saints  were  sown, 

We,  to  their  labors  entering  in. 
Would  reap  where  they  have  strown. 

This  poem,  written  by  Rev.  Samuel  Long- 
fellow, brother  of  H.  W.  Longfellow,  first  ap- 
peared in  a  Unitarian  collection  called  Hymns 
of  the  Spirit,  1864.  It  was  not  intended  to 
be  used  in  missionary  services,  and  is  an 
expression  of  the  zeal  which  the  Gospel  call 
should  rouse  in  our  hearts.  Zeal  means  boil- 
ing. An  earnest,  irrepressible  desire  to  reach 
some  other  souls,  and  bring  them  into  the 
same  lofty  relationship  with  Jesus,  springs  up 
in  the  breast  of  every  right-minded  child  of 
God.  By  and  by,  in  some  cases,  this  really 
becomes  the  ruling  passion.  There  was  one 
grand  old  martyr  who  even  in  the  moment  of 
agony  could  think  only  of  people  to  be  saved. 
When  he  saw  the  vast  crowd  bringing  fagots 
with  which  to  burn  him,  he  thought  only 
of  them  as  such  a  fine  audience  !  He  sent 
word  of  inquiry  whether  he  might  just  preach 
to  them  for  half  an  hour.  When  they  silenced 
him  he  was  keenly  disappointed,  and  turned 
meekly  to  prayer,  saying :  "  Behold,  the  har- 
vest !  O  Master,  send  thy  laborers  forth  to 
reap !" 


899  Charitableness. 

^   Think  gently  of  the  erring  one! 

/  And  let  us  not  forget. 

However  darkly  stained  by  sin. 
He  is  our  brother  yet. 


CM. 


2  Heir  of  the  same  inheritance. 
Child  of  the  self-same  God  ; 

He  hath  but  stumbled  in  the  path 
We  have  in  weakness  trod. 

3  Forget  not  thou  hast  often  sinned, 
Ana  sinful  yet  must  be : 

Deal  gently  with  the  erring  one. 
As  God  hath  dealt  with  thee. 


^^Hpevotion,  published  in  Boston,  1846,  this 
poem  is  ascribed  to  Miss  Fletcher,  a  writer 
who  has  remained  unknown  to  the  present 
day.  The  piece  is  a  favorite  one  on  account 
of  its  plea  for  gentleness  and  tenderness  in 
our  efforts  to  help  our  needy  brothers.  We 
must  have  a  heart  in  the  hand  when  we  offer 
it  to  him.  Everything  seems  so  chill  in  our 
modern  ways  of  working.  We  need  more 
warm-hearted  love.  For  here  is  the  secret  of 
all  success  in  the  winning  of  souls.  A  man 
had  broken  through  the  ice  and  was  drown- 
ing in  the  Merrimac  River.  The  neighbors 
sought  to  save  him  with  a  plank  thrust  out 
over  the  edge.  Twice  he  caught  it  and 
slipped  back  into  the  stream.  Then  he  had 
just  strength  enough  to  say,"  Oh,  for  heaven's 
sake  give  me  the  wood-end  of  the  plank ! " 


They  pulled  it  in,  and  found  that  the  end  they 
offered  was  round  and  chill  with  ice.  They 
changed  it ;  and  then  his  numb  fingers  clasped 
the  friendly  board,  and  he  was  saved.  Ah, 
me !  we  must,  in  saving  souls,  present  some- 
thing beside  the  ice-end  of  a  mere  conven- 
tional piety. 

900  The  Martyr-spirit.  C.  M. 

The  Son  of  God  goes  forth  to  war, 

A  kingly  crown  to  gain  ; 
His  blood-red  banner  streams  afar; 

Who  follows  in  his  train  ? 

2  Who  best  can  drink  his  cup  of  woe, 
And  triumph  over  pain, 

Who  patient  bears  his  cross  below — 
He  follows  in  his  train. 

3  A  glorious  band,  the  chosen  few, 
On  whom  the  spirit  came: 

Twelve  valiant  saints,  their  hope  they  knew, 
And  mocked  the  cross  and  flame. 

4  They  climbed  the  dizzy  steep  to  heaven 
Through  peril,  toil,  and  pain  : 

O  God  !  to  us  may  grace  be  given 
To  follow  in  their  train  ! 

This  is  one  of  Bishop  Reginald  Heber's 
finest  lyrics,  ranking  in  the  estimate  of  many 
with  that  anthem-like  composition,  "Holy, 
holy,  holy,  Lord  God  Almighty."  It  was 
published  first  in  his  posthumous  Hymns, 
Written  and  Adapted  to  the  Weekly  Church 
Service  of  the  Year,  1827.  There  it  consists 
of  eight  stanzas  of  four  lines.  It  seems 
strange  to  us  that  the  poetry  of  such  a  man 
should  have  to  wait  for  a  fitting  recognition 
until  after  his  death.  It  is  related  in  his  biog- 
raphy that  he  endeavored  with  much  zeal  to 
persuade  Archbishop  Manners  Sutton,  and 
afterwards  the  Bishop  of  London,  even  as 
early  as  the  year  1820,  to  authorize  the  publi- 
cation of  his  work,  still  in  manuscript,  and  the 
use  of  some  of  his  compositions  in  regular 
services.  His  argument  was  pressed  seri- 
ously that  the  churches  outside  of  the  Estab- 
lishment were  making  their  singing  a  "  power- 
ful engine  "  for  religious  good,  and  these 
popular  lyrics  were  forcing  their  way  across 
the  ecclesiastical  barriers  into  the  Episcopal 
congregations  ;  he  urged  forcibly  that  as  such 
a  use  was  irregular,  it  would  be  better  to  reg- 
ulate it,  since  it  would  be  impossible  to  sup- 
press it.  But  he  did  not  succeed.  And  now 
the  fact  stands  that  the  total  contents  of  the 
manuscript  collection  he  made  are  in  the 
hymnals  of  all  the  churches  on  both  sides  of 
the  sea,  with  a  wideness  in  the  welcome  alto- 
gether unique  in  the  history  of  compilation. 

90 1  Expedition. 

Work  while  it  is  to-day ! 

This  was  our  Saviour's  rule; 
With  docile  minds  let  us  obey. 

As  learners  in  his  school. 


S.  M. 


390 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


2  Lord  Christ,  we  humbly  ask 
Of  thee  the  power  and  will, 

With  fear  and  meekness,  every  task 
Ofduty  to  fulfill. 

3  At  home,  by  word  and  deed, 
Adorn  redeeming  grace; 

And  sow  abroad  the  precious  seed 
Of  truth  in  everj-  place : 

4  That  thus  the  wilderness 
May  blossom  like  the  rose, 

And  trees  spring  up  of  righteousness, 
Where'er  life's  river  flows. 

5  For  thee  our  all  to  spend. 
Still  may  we  watch  and  pray, 

And,  persevering;  to  the  end. 
Work  while  it  is  to-day. 


This  appears  in  James  Montgomery's 
Original  Hymns  for  Public,  Private,  and 
Social  Devotion,  1853,  as  No.  156,  and  is  en- 
titled, "  Working  the  Works  of  God."  The 
general  trend  of  Christian  experience  at  the 
present  day  is  towards  activity  rather  than 
towards  meditation  or  sensibility.  For  one 
mystic  we  may  find  fifty  hustlers.  Religion 
includes  a  form  of  feeling,  a  form  of  knowl- 
edge, a  form  of  work — the  heart,  the  head, 
and  the  hand  are  all  employed.  These  are 
to  move  in  unity,  and  then  the  individual  is  to 
grow  greater  and  stronger  as  a  whole.  Some 
people  increase  in  wealth,  in  social  position, 
in  prosperity,  for  half  a  lifetime,  and  die  as 
contractedly  little  as  they  began.  Did  you 
ever  see  a  bird  hopping  up  on  the  doorstone 
of  a  village  church  ?  In  a  moment  it  sprang 
higher,  and  lit  on  an  upper  window-sill ;  then 
with  another  little  flutter  it  reached  the  point 
of  the  roof ;  and  now  you  imagined  how  far 
away  it  could  see.  Up  it  flew  again  to  the 
belfry ;  ah !  the  hills,  and  the  rivers,  and  the 
meadows  in  the  prospect ;  then  another  flight, 
and  it  stood  sheer  aloft  upon  the  spire.  Your 
heart  swelled  with  the  thought  of  the  vast 
reach  of  landscape  by  this  time  under  its  eye, 
but  you  felt  really  surprised  that  the  bird 
continued  so  preposterously  little  all  the  time. 
You  could  hardly  see  it  now  at  all,  away  up 
there  on  the  gilt  vane,  and  in  an  instant,  with 
rapid  skips  from  point  to  point,  it  settled  clear 
to  the  ground  again,  in  no  respect  expanded, 
a  poor  little  bit  of  a  bird,  pecking  in  the 
gravel  for  the  worm  it  came  down  after,  just 
as  it  had  started,  satisfied  with  the  curbstone, 
when  it  might  have  seen  the  stars.  Bad 
enough  for  a  bird,  but  what  will  you  say  of  a 
man,  journeying  up  from  poverty  to  wealth, 
and  yet  never  growing  beyond  the  narrow- 
ness of  stature  with  which  he  started }  It 
must  be  a  most  inveterate  contraction  of  the 
soul  which  forces  one  to  pervert  the  words  of 
Jesus  into  a  strange  motto — receive  freely, 
but  keep  mean. 


902  Contribution.  S.  M. 

We  give  thee  but  thine  own, 

Whate'er  the  gift  may  be: 
All  that  we  have  is  thine  alone, 

A  trust,  O  Lord,  from  thee. 

2  May  we  thy  bounties  thus 
As  stewards  true  receive. 

And  gladly,  as  thou  blessest  us. 
To  thee  our  first-fruits  give. 

3  To  comfort  and  to  bless. 
To  find  a  balm  for  woe. 

To  tend  the  lone  and  fatherless. 
Is  angels'  work  below. 

4  The  captive  to  release, 
To  God  the  lost  to  bring. 

To  teach  the  way  of  life  and  peace — 
It  is  a  Christ-like  thing. 

5  And  we  believe  thy  word, 
Though  dim  our  faith  may  be; 

Whate'er  for  thine  we  do,  O  Lord, 
We  do  it  unto  thee. 

This  is  one  of  the  most  popular  of  Bishop 
William  Walsham  How's  many  admirable 
hymns,  written  in  1858,  and  first  published  in 
Morrell  and  How's  Psalms  and  Hymns,  1864. 
It  has  become  associated  in  churches  of 
every  denomination  with  the  charities  of  the 
members,  and  from  its  simplicity  of  style 
combined  with  glowing  enthusiasm,  seems  a 
fit  expression  of  a  Christian's  gratitude.  John 
Wesley  said  once,  "  You  will  have  no  reward 
in  heaven  for  what  you  lay  up  :  you  will  for 
what  you  lay  out ;  every  pound  you  put  into 
the  earthly  bank  is  sunk  :  it  brings  no  interest 
above.  But  every  pound  you  give  to  the 
poor  you  put  into  the  bank  of  heaven.  And 
it  will  bring  glorious  interest." 

903  Christ's  Burden.  S.  M. 

It  is  no  untried  way 

That  takes  us  home  to  God , 
The  road  that  leads  to  realms  of  day 

By  Christ  himself  was  trod. 

2  The  Lord  of  Love  has  borne 
The  burdens  of  this  life. 

The  Man  of  Sorrows  oft  was  worn 
With  earth's  incessant  strife. 

3  See  from  his  throne  of  light 
He  now  in  grace  looks  down  ; 

He  holds  within  faith's  piercing  sight, 
And  bids  us  win — the  crown. 

4  Our  hearts  can  never  faint 
With  such  a  goal  in  view ; 

But  doubts  dismissed,  hushed  each  complaint, 
We  will  the  way  pursue. 

Another  of  Rev.  Robert  M.  Off ord's  hymns- 
It  was  first  published  in  the  New  York  Ob- 
server, February  i ,  1 883.  The  introduction  of  it 
to  the  singing  public  was  made  in  Laudes  Dom- 
ini, 1884.  It  is  the  evident  presence  of  a 
rich  and  fruitful  experience  in  the  poetry  of 
this  writer  which  renders  it  so  welcome  to 
read,  and  sometimes  to  sing.  For  the  editor 
of  a  metropolitan  paper  it  must  be  a  relief  to 


ACTIVITY    AND   ZEAL. 


591 


think  that  "  The  Man  of  Sorrows  oft  was 
worn  wich  earth's  incessant  strife,"  and  yet 
now  "  looks  down  "  to  see  his  chosen,  and  to 
bid  them  win  the  crown.  How  busy  and 
disturbed  this  world  is !  how  serene  the 
other ! 

904  ^^  Harvest  home."  S.  M. 

Sow  in  the  morn  thy  seed, 

At  eve  hold  not  thy  hand  ; 
To  doubt  and  fear  give  thou  no  heed  ; 

Broadcast  it  o'er  the  land. 

2  And  duly  shall  appear 

In  verdure,  beauty,  strength,  ' 

The  tender  blade,  the  stalk,  the  ear, 
And  the  full  corn  at  length. 

3  Thou  canst  not  toil  in  vain; 
Cold,  heat,  the  moist  and  dry^ 

Shall  foster  and  mature  the  grain 
For  garners  in  the  sky. 

4  Then,  when  the  glorious  end. 
The  day  of  God  snail  come, 

The  angel-reapers  shall  descend, 
And  heaven  sing  "  Harvest  home!" 

James  Montgomery  has  included  this  in  his 
Original  Hymns,  i^vk)\\^tA  in  1853.  It  has 
there  seven  stanzas,  and  is  entitled  "  The 
Field  of  the  World."  The  piece  was  written 
for  the  Sheffield  Sunday-School  Union  to  sing 
at  the  Whitsuntide  gathering,  1832. 

A  Welsh  clergyman  asked  a  little  girl  for 
the  text  of  his  last  sermon.  The  child  gave 
no  answer— she  only  wept.  He  ascertained 
that  she  had  no  Bible  in  which  to  look  for  the 
text.  And  this  led  him  to  inquire  whether 
her  parents  and  neighbors  had  a  Bible ;  and 
this  led  to  that  meeting  in  London,  in  1804, 
of  a  few  devoted  Christians,  to  devise  means 
to  supply  the  poor  in  Wales  with  the  Bible, 
the  grand  issue  of  which  was  the  formation 
of  the  British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society — a 
society  which  has  already  distributed  more 
than  30,000,000  copies  of  the  Bible,  its  issues 
now  reaching  nearly  2,500,000  annually.  And 
this,  in  turn,  led  to  the  formation  of  the 
American  Bible  Society,  and  to  the  whole 
beautiful  cluster  of  sister  institutions  through- 
out the  world,  which  are  so  many  trees  of 
life,  scattering  the  golden  fruits  of  immortal- 
ity among  all  nations  of  the  earth.  This 
mighty  river,  so  deep,  so  broad,  so  far-reach- 
ing in  its  many  branches,  we  may  trace  back 
to  the  tears  of  that  little  girl.  "  Behold  how 
great  a  matter  a  little  fire  kindleth  !" 

905  "  The  night  cometh." 

Work,  for  the  night  is  coming; 

Work,  through  the  morning  hours  ; 
Work,  while  the  dew  is  sparkling; 

Work,  'mid  springing  flowers  : 
Work,  when  the  day  grows  brighter, 

Work,  in  the  g^lowing  sun ; 
Work,  for  the  night  is  coming, 

When  man's  work  is  done. 


P.M. 


2  Work,  for  the  night  is  coming. 
Work  through  the  sunny  noon : 

Fill  brightest  hours  with  labor, 

Rest  comes  sure  and  soon. 
Give  every  flying  minute 

Something  to  keep  in  store: 
Work,  for  the  night  is  coming, 

When  man  works  no  more. 

3  Work,  for  the  night  is  coming. 
Under  the  sunset  skies  : 

While  their  bright  tints  are  glowing, 

Work,  for  daylight  flies. 
Work  till  the  last  oeam  fadeth, 

Fadeth  to  shine  no  more ; 
Work,  while  the  night  is  darkening, 

When  man's  work  is  o'er. 

This  hymn,  although  sometimes  ascribed 
to  Rev.  Sidney  Dyer,  is  really  by  Miss  Anna 
L.  Walker,  of  Canada,  and  was  published  in 
her  Poems,  1868.  ?vlr.  Dyer  once  wrote  a 
hymn  on  the  same  subject,  hence  the  confu- 
sion which  has  arisen.  The  poem  is  an 
earnest  call  to  activity,  suggested  by  the  say- 
ing of  Jesus,  "  The  night  cometh,  when  no 
man  can  work."  It  is  for  us,  therefore,  to  use 
to  its  utmost  the  time  that  is  left. 

There  is  found  among  the  children's  hymns 
one  concerning  "  a  starless  crown."  Who 
wants  to  wear  such  ?  If  we  could  just  our- 
selves be  successful  enough  to  worry  through 
life  into  heaven,  would  not  our  hearts  be  sad 
to  remember  no  soul  was  waiting  there  to 
welcome  us,  for  not  one  had  we  set  on  in  the 
way !  Think  of  this  world  of  ruin  and  sin 
all  around  us ;  how  it  welcomes  any  help  of- 
fered to  it !  Did  you  ever  lay  your  finger 
upon  the  edge  of  a  bird's  nest,  when  the 
mother  was  absent,  and  mark  how  blindly, 
but  instinctively,  those  callow  necks  and  open 
bills  all  stretched  up  towards  you  for  food  ? 
So  the  whole  race  stands  expectant.  If  you 
have  any  good  to  offer,  you  will  find  a  million 
hearts  around  you  that  need  it. 

906  Encouragement.  L.  M. 

It  may  not  be  our  lot  to  wield 
The  sickle  in  the  ripened  field  ; 
Nor  ours  to  hear,  on  summer  eves. 
The  reaper's  song  among  the  sheaves. 

2  Vet  ours  the  grateful  service  whence 
Comes,  day  by  day,  the  recompense ; 
The  hope,  the  trust,  the  purpose  stayed. 
The  fountain,  and  the  noonday  shade. 

3  And  were  this  life  the  utmost  span. 
The  only  end  and  aim  of  man. 
Better  the  toil  of  fields  like  these 
Than  waking  dream  and  slothful  ease. 

4  But  life,  though  falling  like  our  grain. 
Like  that  revives  and  springs  again  ;  * 
And,  early  called,  how  blest  are  they 

Who  wait,  in  heaven,  their  harvest  day ! 

Another  of  John  G.  Whittier's  poems 
transmuted  into  a  hymn  ;  and  indeed  it  makes 
an  excellent  one  for  all  public  meetings  of 
societies  for  Christian  activity  and    benevo- 


392 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


lence.  This  was  written  about  1850,  and  is 
published  in  his  Miscellatieous  Poems,  where 
it  bears  the  title,  "Seed-time  and  Harvest." 
The  sentiment  of  the  piece  is  quite  genuine, 
and  has  all  the  intelligent  teaching  of  the 
Gospel  behind  it :  namely,  that  it  is  one's  try- 
ing to  do  good  which  pleases  our  Master ; 
and  if  we  fail  in  accomplishing  all  we  fondly 
wished,  it  is  still  profitable  to  keep  at  work 
because  of  the  vigor  and  growth  it  secures  to 
us  ;  and  we  can  afford  to  wait  a  little  while  till 
we  can  become  acquainted  with  final  results. 
The  poet  himself  died  September  7,  1892.  He 
said  just  before  his  death :  "  My  work  is  done  ; 
I  wish  it  were  better  done.  My  sole  trust  is 
in  the  goodness  of  God."  What  more  could 
any  one  find  to  say  near  the  end  of  life  ? 

Remember  our  Lord's  parable :  One  man 
there  was  who  received  only  a  single  talent ; 
but  he  was  expected  to  put  it  at  work.  He 
hid  it  in  the  ground.  When  the  day  of  reck- 
oning came,  toward  which  all  the  others  had 
been  shrewd  enough  to  look,  this  servant 
brought  back  his  money.  He  had  never  so 
much  as  touched  it ;  he  had  not  ventured  it 
in  exchangers'  loans ;  he  deemed  himself 
praisworthy  because  he  bore  the  money  back 
uninjured.  In  the  end  the  lord  not  only 
blamed  him  for  his  indolent  and  distrustful 
prudence,  but  issued  a  most  surprising  com- 
mand, that  the  single  talent  he  had  so  cau- 
tiously preserved  in  idleness  should  be  taken 
away  and  given  to  another.  The  evident 
teaching  conveyed  in  this  order  is  that  one's 
opportunity  or  capability  or  gift  for  useful- 
ness may  actually  be  rooted  violently  up  out 
of  his  possession  as  a  punishment  for  disuse  ; 
he  was  bound  to  do  something  with  it ;  he 
let  it  lie  waste  ;  so  he  lost  it.  This  happens 
quite  frequently  in  this  life  of  ours ;  and 
sometimes  a  man  supposes  he  has  still  his 
treasure  in  beautiful  secrecy  of  preservation 
after  it  is  gone. 


907  Our  cross. 

"  Take  up  thy  cross,"  the  Saviour  said, 
"  If  thou  wouldst  my  disciple  be  ; 

Deny  thyself,  the  world  forsake, 
And  humbly  follow  after  me." 

2  Take  up  thy  cross :  let  not  its  weight 
Fill  thy  weak  spirit  with  alarm ; 

His  strength  shall  bear  thy  spirit  up, 
And  brace  thy  heart  and  nerve  thine  arm. 

3  Take  up  thy  cross,  nor  heed  the  shame, 
Nor  let  thy  foolish  pride  rebel ; 

Thy  Lord  for  thee  the  cross  endured. 
To  save  thy  soul  from  death  and  hell. 

4  Take  up  thy  cross,  and  follow  Christ ; 
Nor  think  till  death  to  lay  it  down  ; 

For  only  he  who  bears  the  cross 
May  hope  to  wear  the  glorious  crown. 


Rev.  Charles  William  Everest,  M.  A.,  was 
born  at  East  Windsor,  Conn.,  May  27,  1814, 
and  graduated  at  Trinity  College,  Hartford, 
in  1838.  He  decided  to  enter  the  ministry, 
and  in  1842  became  rector  at  Hampden,  Conn., 
where  he  remained  for  thirty-one  years.  Dur- 
ing the  greater  part  of  this  time  he  was  also 
the  head  of  a  successful  school,  and  his  in- 
fluence was  far-reaching.  He  died  at  Water- 
bur\'.  Conn.,  January  11,  1877.  This  hymn 
was  first  published  by  him  in  a  volume  of  po- 
etry entitled  Visions  of  Death,  in  1833,  and, 
although  not  so  widely  known  in  this  country, 
it  is  to  be  found  in  most  of  the  English 
books,  where  it  has  received  high  praise  as  "a 
beautiful  American  hymn." 


908  Zeal.  L.  M. 

Go,  labor  on,  while  it  is  day ; 

The  world's  dark  night  is  hastening  on  ; 
Speed,  speed  thy  work — cast  sloth  away  ! 

It  is  not  thus  that  souls  are  won. 

2  Men  die  in  darkness  at  your  side. 
Without  a  hope  to  cheer  the  tomb  : 

Take  up  the  torch  and  wave  it  wide — 
The  torch  that  lights  time's  thickest  gloom. 

3  Toil  on — faint  not,  keep  wat,ch  and  pray  1 
Be  wise  the  erring  soul  to  win  ; 

Go  forth  into  the  world's  highway; 
Compel  the  wanderer  to  come  in. 

4  Go,  labor  on  :  your  hands  are  weak  ; 
Your  knees  are  faint,  your  soul  cast  down ; 

Yet  falter  not ;  the  prize  you  seek 
Is  near — a  kingdom  and  a  crown  ! 

This  popular  poem,  by  Rev.  Dr.  Horatius 
Bonar,  was  written  in  1843  and  first  printed 
in  a  small  booklet  of  three  or  four  hjTnns.  It 
was  included  in  his  Songs  for  the  Wilderness, 
1843,  and  consisted  of  eight  stanzas  ;  but  it  has 
frequently  been  altered  and  divided  into  two 
parts.  It  is  full  of  an  intense  realization  of 
the  need  of  the  world,  and  our  imperative  ob- 
ligation to  respond  to  such  a  demand  for 
help.  Although  what  we  can  do  may  seem  a 
mere  trifle,  yet  God's  blessing  can  turn  it  into 
a  powerful  aid.  An  English  clergyman  re- 
C.  M.  lates  the  following  incident,  which  proves  that 
we  should  not  despise  the  day  of  small  things  : 
"  During  a  voyage  to  India,  1  sat  one  dark 
evening  in  my  cabin  feeling  thoroughly  un- 
well, as  the  sea  was  rising  fast  and  I  was  but 
a  poor  sailor.  Suddenly  the  cr>-  of  '  Man 
overboard  ! '  made  me  spring  to  my  feet.  I 
heard  a  trampling  overhead,  but  resolved  not 
to  go  on  deck  lest  I  should  interfere  with  the 
crew  in  their  efforts  to  save  the  poor  man. 
'  What  can  I  do .' '  I  asked  myself,  and  in- 
stantly unhooking  my  lamp,  I  held  it  near  the 
top  of  my  cabin  and  close  to  my  bull's  eye  win- 
dow, that  its  light  might  shine  on  the  sea,  and 
as  near  the  ship  as  possible.     In  half  a  min- 


ACTIVITY   AND   ZEAL. 


395 


ute's  time  I  heard  the  joyful  cry,  '  It 's  all 
right,  he  's  safe,'  upon  which  I  put  my  lamp  in 
its  place.  The  next  day,  however,  I  was  told 
that  my  little  lamp  was  the  sole  means  of  sav- 
ing the  man's  life  ;  it  was  only  by  the  timely 
light  which  shone  upon  him  that  the  knotted 
rope  could  be  thrown  so  as  to  -each  him." 

909  Forbearance.  L.  M. 

Oh,  what  stupendous  mercy  shines 

Around  the  majesty  of  heaven  ! 
Rebels  he  deigns  to  call  his  sons — 

Their  souls  renewed,  their  sins  forgiven. 

2  Go,  imitate  the  grace  divine — 
The  grace  that  blazes  like  the  sun  : 

Hold  forth  your  fair  though  feeble  light. 
Through  all  your  lives  let  mercy  run. 

3  When  all  is  done,  renounce  your  deeds, 
Renounce  self-righteousness  with  scorn  : 

Thus  will  you  glorify  your  God, 
And  thus  the  Christian  name  adorn. 

Rev.  Dr.  Thomas  Gibbons,  author  of  this 
hymn,  was  the  biographer  as  well  as  the 
friend  of  Watts,  whose  influence  is  plainly 
seen  in  his  writings,  although  they  lack  the 
quality  which  gives  permanent  value  to  reli- 
gious poems.  Thomas  Gibbons  was  born  at 
Reak,  near  Newmarket,  England,  May  31, 
1720,  and  received  a  good  education  at  a 
grammar  school  and  an  academy.  In  1742 
he  was  ordained,  and  became  assistant  to 
Rev.  Thomas  Bures  at  Silver  St.  Chapel, 
London  ;  a  year  later  he  assumed  the  charge 
of  an  Independent  Church  in  Cheapside, 
where  he  remained  until  his  death,  February 
22,  1785.  In  addition  to  his  pastoral  work  he 
was  tutor  of  Logic,  Ethics,  and  Mathematics 
at  an  academy  in  London,  and  Sunday  Even- 
ing Lecturer  at  Monkwell  Street  Meeting 
House.  He  assisted  President  Davies  of 
Princeton  College,  N.  J.,  in  securing  funds  in 
England,  and  received  from  that  institution 
the  degree  of  D.  D.,  1760.  Four  years  later, 
1764,  he  received  the  same  degree  from  the 
University  of  Aberdeen.  Dr.  Gibbons  pub- 
lished a  number  of  works  both  in  prose  and 
poetry.  This  piece  is  from  his  Hymns,  1 784. 
He  was  a  friend  of  Lady  Huntingdon,  and  of 
Dr.  Samuel  Johnson,  and  in  that  brilliant  cir- 
cle was  distinguished  by  his  zealous  piety. 

9  I O  Faith  and  Works.  L.  M.       911 

One  cup  of  healing  oil  and  winej 
One  offering  laid  on  mercy's  shnncy 
Is  thrice  more  grateful,  Lord,  to  thee 
Than  lifted  eye  or  bended  knee. 

2  In  true  and  inward  faith  we  trace 
The  source  of  every  outward  grace; 
Within  the  pious  heart  it  plays, 
A  living  fount  of  joy  and  praise. 

3  Kind  deeds  of  peace  and  love  betray 
Where'er  the  stream  has  found  its  way; 
But,  where  these  spring  not  rich  and  fair, 
The  stream  has  never  wandered  there. 


Rev.  William  Hamilton  Drummond  was 
born  at  Larne,  County  Antrim,  Ireland,  in 
August,  1772.  His  father,  who  was  a  physi- 
cian, died  while  the  boy  was  very  young,  and 
his  education  was  the  result  of  his  mother's 
energy  and  determination.  He  studied  for 
the  ministry  at  the  University  of  Glasgow, 
and  at  the  early  age  of  twenty-one  became 
pastor  of  the  Second  Presbyterian  Church  in 
Belfast;  where  he  remained  until  1 816,  when 
he  assumed  charge  of  the  Strand  Street  Chapel 
in  Dublin.  He  continued  in  this  pastorate  un- 
til his  death,  which  occurred  October  i6,  1865. 
Mr.  Drummond  wrote  a  good  number  of 
poems  and  a  few  hymns,  of  which  the  one 
given  here  is  the  best  known.  It  illustrates, 
the  sentiment  of  Lowell's  beautiful  "  Vision  of 
Sir  Launfal :" 

"Who  gives  himself,  with  his  alms,  feeds  three. 
Himself,  his  hungering  neighbor,  and  Me." 

We  take  up  this  work  of  caring  for  the  poor ; 
we  do  it,  after  our  fashion.  But  wherein  lies 
the  discipline  of  surprise  ?  That  is  revealed  in 
a  Bible  text :  "  Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it 
unto  one  of  the  least  of  these  my  brethren,  ye 
have  done  it  unto  Me."  There  is  something 
exquisitely  interesting  in  the  ancient  legends 
of  the  saints,  always  referring  to  this.  One 
hermit  will  be  sitting  at  the  door  of  his  cave ;. 
along  comes  a  beggar ;  he  helps  him ;  then 
the  beggar  throws  back  his  garment  and  van- 
ishes. But  as  he  departs,  the  hermit  sees  the 
wounds  in  his  side  and  hands.  He  has  given 
food  to  Christ.  Then  another  will  be  in  his 
room  praying ;  in  stalks  a  laboring-man ;  he 
is  covered  with  dust ;  the  saint  washes  his 
feet,  and  sees  where  the  cross-nails  went 
through  ;  his  pauper  guest  is  Christ.  So  they 
visit  men  in  prison,  they  clothe  the  naked, 
they  watch  the  sick;  they  succor  the  oppressed. 
And  everywhere,  as  the  tale  ends,  it  is  made 
evident  that  they  have  been  tested  in  charity, 
and  given  help  to  Christ.  It  is  ever  the  "  poor 
wayfaring  man  of  grief "  who  eventually 
starts,  the  "  stranger  from  disguise,"  and 
praises  the  unconscious  man  who  has  given 
him  help  when  in  need. 

Liberality.  L.  M. 

When  Jesus  dwelt  in  mortal  clay, 
What  were  his  works  from  day  to  day 
But  miracles  of  power  and  grace 
That  spread  salvation  through  our  race  ? 

2  Teach  us,  O  Lord,  to  keep  in  view 
Thy  pattern,  and  thy  steps  pursue ; 
Let  alms  bestowed,  let  kmaness  done. 
Be  witnessed  by  each  rolling  sun. 

3  That  man  may  last,  but  never  lives. 
Who  much  receives,  but  nothing  gives  ; 
Whom  none  can  love,  whom  none  can  thank. 
Creation's  blot,  creation's  blank  ! 


394 


THE  CHURCH    OF   GOD. 


4  But  he  who  marks,  from  day  to  day, 
In  generous  acts  his  radiant  way. 
Treads  the  same  path  his  Saviour  trod, 
The  path  to  glory  and  to  God. 

In  Rev.  Dr.  Thomas  Gibbons'  Hymns 
adapted  to  Divine  Worship,  1784,  this  poem 
appears,  entitled  "  Jesus  our  Example."  It  has 
been  reprinted  in  several  American  collec- 
tions, its  chief  value  lying  in  the  third  verse, 
which  has  been  called  "  illustrious,"  from  the 
felicity  of  its  description  of  true  greatness. 
The  philanthropist  who  has  helped  the  poor  to 
rise ;  the  statesman  who  has  led  his  country 
on  to  higher  advancement ;  the  soldier  who 
has  bravely  periled  his  life  in  order  to  quell  a 
rising  in  arms,  and  establish  the  right  over 
the  wrong ;  the  scholar  who  has  wrought  out 
in  his  vigils  systems  or  appliances  of  truth 
which  show  men  advantage  or  aid  them  in 
bearing  their  burdens  ;  in  one  word,  the  man 
who  in  public  or  private  has  addressed  him- 
self sincerely  to  the  work  of  being  serviceable 
to  his  fellow-men,  he  it  is  who  receives  the 
award  of  greatness.  He  abides  in  the  emi- 
nent estimation  of  the  good  and  the  true  of  all 
ages.  "  Put  a  sun-dial  over  my  grave,  and  let 
me  be  forgotten,"  were  the  dying  words  of 
John  Howard.  A  most  modest  request  surely ; 
and  yet  it  is  fair  to  say  that,  though  his  coun- 
trymen, and  the  world  at  large,  would  have 
granted  him  any  other  prayer,  this  they 
promptly  denied.  "  The  name  of  the  righteous 
shall  be  held  in  everlasting  remembrance,  but 
the  name  of  the  wicked  shall  rot." 

9  I  2  God  giveth  all  things.  8s,  4s. 

O  Lord  of  heaven,  and  earth,  and  sea. 
To  thee  all  praise  and  glory  be  ; 
How  shall  we  show  our  love  to  thee. 
Who  givest  all  ? 

2  For  peaceful  homes  and  healthful  days, 
For  all  the  blessings  earth  displays. 

We  owe  thee  thanlcfulness  and  praise, 
Who  givest  all. 

3  Thou  didst  not  spare  thine  only  Son, 
But  gav'st  him  for  a  world  undone. 
And  freely  with  that  blessed  One 

Thou  givest  all. 

4  For  souls  redeemed,  for  sins  forgiven, 
For  means  of  grace  and  hopes  of  heaven. 
Father  what  can  to  thee  be  given. 

Who  givest  all? 

5  We  lose  what  on  ourselves  we  spend ; 
We  have  as  treasure  without  end 
Whatever,  Lord,  to  thee  we  lend. 

Who  givest  all. 

This  popular  poem  first  appeared  in  Bishop 
Christopher  Wordsworth's  Holy  Year,  1863, 
and  was  designed  by  him  to  be  used  as 
an  offertory  hymn.  The  refrain  of  each 
stanza  emphasizes  the  supreme  completeness 
of  God's  generosity ;   and  in  the  picture  of 


Christ's  sacrifice  there  comes  to  us  the  thought 
that  there  is  a  corresponding  duty  which 
devolves  upon  us.  Not  only  our  possessions, 
but  we  ourselves,  are  owed  to  Christ — due 
on  the  instant — as  St.  Paul  said,  "  I  am  a 
debtor."  Once  a  wealthy  merchant  gave  this 
excuse.  "  I  had  a  dream,"  he  said  ;  "  I  was 
erecting  a  pyramid  of  gold.  Its  vast  base 
stood  four-square  on  the  rock.  Its  glittering 
sides  shone  in  the  sun.  But  its  pinnacle  was 
yet  unfinished,  as  it  rose  near  the  sky.  I  saw 
how  the  gains  of  toiling  years  were  lifting  it 
layer  by  layer.  I  even  awoke  myself  by  ex- 
claiming, '  When  it  is  entirely  done  I  will  be- 
gin to  give  away.'  "  Then  the  slow  months 
passed  and  the  twelvemonth  vanished.  And 
again  came  the  call,  with  the  question,  Is  the 
pyramid  finished  yet  .-*  And  the  answer  was 
quite  ready.  "  I  have  had  another  dream ; 
the  mass  of  gold  was  shining  clear  to  its 
apex  ;  it  was  the  wonder  of  the  world ;  but  I 
said,  as  I  waked  from  sleep.  How  can  I  pluck 
away  from  its  beauty,  or  injure  the  symmetry 
of  its  pattern  }  I  am  now  busy  laying  up  a 
little  more,  lest  it  should  ever  crumble  and 
need  repairs." 

He  who  gives  tithes  at  the  start  will  grow 
himself  as  his  fortune  grows.  He  that  delays 
will  harden.  And  it  should  never  be  forgot- 
ten that  money  is  only  the  measure  of  man- 
hood, when  consecrated  to  Christ.  It  is  our- 
selves we  give  to  him,  ourselves  he  demands. 


913 


"Fear  not,  little  flock." 


C.  P.  M. 


Fear  not,  O  little  flock,  the  foe 
Who  madly  seeks  your  overthrow ; 

Dread  not  his  rage  and  power ; 
What  though  your  courage  sometimes  faints, 
His  seeming  triumph  o'er  God's  saints 

Lasts  but  a  little  hour. 

2  Be  of  good  cheer  ;  your  cause  belongs 
To  him  who  can  avenge  your  wrongs; 

Leave  it  to  him,  our  Lord  ! 
Though  hidden  yet  from  mortal  eyes, 
He  sees  the  Gideon  that  shall  rise 

To  save  us  and  his  word. 

3  As  true  as  God's  own  word  is  true. 
Not  earth  nor  hell  with  all  their  crew 

Against  us  shall  prevail ; 
A  jest  and  by-word  are  they  grown  ; 
God  is  with  us,  we  are  his  own, 

Our  victory  cannot  fail. 

4  Amen,  Lord  Jesus,  grant  our  prayer! 
Great  Cfiptain,  now  thine  arm  make  bare, 

Fight  for  us  once  again  ! 
So  shall  thy  saints  and  martyrs  raise 
A  mighty  chorus  to  thy  praise, 

World  without  end  :  Amen  ! 

This  is  a  translation  by  Miss  Catharine 
Winkworth  from  the  German,  "  Versage 
nicht,  du  Hati/lein  /c/ein."  It  was  published 
first  in  her  Lyra  Germanica,  1855,  and  has 
passed  into  use  in  many  hymnals  in  Great 
Britain  and  America.    The  original  poem  has 


ORGANIZATION   AND   INSTITUTIONS. 


395 


been  accredited  to  Gustavus  Adolphus,  and 
entitled  his  "  Swan  Song,"  from  the  fact  that 
his  army  sang  it  on  the  morning  of  the  battle 
of  Liitzen,  in  which  the  king  was  fatally 
wounded.  But  later  researches  seem  to  prove 
that  it  was  composed  by  Rev.  Johann  Michael 
Altenburg,  pastor  of  several  churches  near 
Erfurt  in  Thuringia.  In  the  troubled  time  of 
the  Thirty  Years'  War  he  was  forced  to  f\y  to 
Erfurt,  and  there,  on  hearing  of  the  victory  of 
Leipzig,  September  17,  1631,  he  wrote  this 
celebrated  hymn.  It  is  the  outpouring  of  a 
fervent  heart  that  is  praising  God  for  deliver- 
ance in  time  of  utmost  need.  It  is  astonish- 
ing to  see  how  far  a  truly  aroused  soul  can 
go  towards  the  throne  of  grace,  sometimes, 
under  strong  impulse  of  overwrought  feeling. 
There  is  found  on  record  one  of  the  persistent 
supplications  of  that  prince  of  praying  men, 
Martin  Luther.  One  time  a  sober  fear  fell 
over  the  feeble  band  of  Reformers  that  Ger- 
many would  be  lost  to  the  cause.  Then  it 
was  that  this  devoted  man  interposed  his 
voice,  and  claimed  a  hearing  from  God : 

"  O  God,  Almighty  God,  everlasting  !  How 
dreadful  is  this  world !  Behold,  how  its 
mouth  opens  to  swallow  me  up  !  How  small 
is  my  faith  in  thee  !  If  I  am  to  depend  upon 
any  strength  of  the  world,  all  is  over.  The 
knell  is  struck.  Sentence  is  gone  forth.  O 
God,  O  God !  O  thou,  my  God,  help  me 
against  all  the  wisdom  of  the  world.  Thou 
shouldst  do  this.  The  work  is  not  mine,  but 
thine.  I  have  no  business  here.  The  cause 
is  thine ;  and  it  is  righteous  and  everlasting. 

0  Lord,  help  me !  O  faithful  and  unchange- 
able God  !  I  lean  not  on  a  man.  My  God, 
my  God,  dost  thou  not  hear.?  My  God, 
art  thou  no  longer  living  ?  Nay,  thou  canst 
not  die.  Thou  dost  not  hide  thyself.  Thou 
hast  chosen  for  me  this  work.  I  know  it. 
Therefore,  O  God,  accomplish  thine  own 
will.  Forsake  me  not,  for  the  sake  of  thy 
well-beloved  Son,  Jesus  Christ,  my  defence, 
my  buckler,  and  my  stronghold  !" 

For  a  moment  he  seemed  then  to  pause. 
But  then  once  more  the  bursting  heart  con- 
tinued, with  importunate  yearning.  It  was  as 
if  he  had  reached  the  point  where  the  Angel- 
Jehovah  had  said — "  Let  me  go  !"  For  with 
loftier  faith  that  great  will  instantly  sprung 
its  bow  back,  to  wing  the  petition  higher : 

"  Lord,  where  art  thou  ?  My  God,  where 
art  thou  ?  Come,  I  pray  thee,  I  am  ready. 
Behold  me  prepared  to  lay  down  my  life  for 
the  truth.  For  the  cause  is  holy.  It  is 
thine  own.  /  wzV/  not  let  thee  go  ;  no,  nor 
yet  for  all  eternity !     My  soul  is  thine.     Yes. 

1  have  thine  own  word  to  assure  me  of  it. 


My  soul  belongs  to  thee,  and  will  abide  with 
thee  for  ever.  Amen.  O  God,  send  help ! 
Amen !" 

9  1 4  Unity  in  Diversity.  8s,  4s. 

Father  of  all,  from  land  and  sea 
The  nations  sing,  "  Thine,  Lord,  are  we, 
Countless  in  number,  but  in  thee 
May  we  be  one." 

2  O  Son  of  God,  whose  love  so  free 
For  men  did  make  thee  man  to  be, 
United  to  our  God  in  thee, 

May  we  be  one. 

3  Thou,  Lord,  didst  once  for  all  atone ; 
Thee  may  both  Jew  and  Gentile  own 
Of  their  two  walls  the  Corner  Stone, 

Making  them  one. 

4  Join  high  and  low,  join  young  and  old, 
In  love  that  never  waxes  cold ; 

Under  one  Shepherd,  in  one  fold, 
Make  us  all  one. 

5  So,  when  the  world  shall  pass  away, 
May  we  awake  with  joy  and  say, 

"  Now  in  the  bliss  of  endless  day 
We  all  are  one." 

This  hymn  was  written  by  Dr.  Christopher 
Wordsworth,  Bishop  of  Lincoln,  by  request, 
after  the  Church  Congress  at  Nottingham, 
England,  1871.  It  is  a  prayer  "For  Unity," 
and  is  so  entitled.  When  believers  are 
grouped  around  their  Head,  the  closer  they 
are  to  him,  the  closer  they  are  to  each  other. 
Thus  once  wrote  John  Wesley,  quoting  the 
cheerful  conversation  between  Jehonadab 
and  Jehu :  " '  Is  thine  heart  right,  as  my 
heart  is  with  thy  heart  ?  If  it  be,  give  me 
thine  hand.'  I  do  not  mean.  Be  of  my  opin- 
ion ;  thou  needest  not ;  neither  do  I  mean,  I 
will  be  of  thine  opinion;  I  cannot.  Let  all 
opinions  alone  ;  give  me  thine  hand." 


915 


The  Church  menaced. 


IIS,  5s. 


Lord  of  our  life,  and  God  of  our  salvation, 
Star  of  our  night,  and  hope  of  every  nation. 
Hear  and  receive  thy  church's  supplication, 
Lord  God  Almighty. 

2  Lord,  thou  canst  help  when  earthly  armor  faileth, 
Lord,  thou  canst  save  when  deadly  sin  assaileth. 
Lord,  o'er  thy  rock  nor  death  nor  hell  prevaileth; 

Grant  us  thy  peace.  Lord  : — 

3  Peace  in  our  hearts,  our  evil  thoughts  assuaging, 
Peace  in  thy  church,  where  brothers  are  engag^ing, 
Peace,  when  the  world  its  busy  war  is  waging  ; 

Calm  thy  foes  raging. 

4  Grant  us  thy  help  till  backward  they  are  driven, 
Grant  them  thy  truth,  that  they  may  be  forgiven, 
Grant  peace  on  earth,  and  after  we  have  striven, 

Peace  in  thy  heaven. 

This  hymn  can  scarcely  be  called  a  transla- 
tion, but  may  rather  be  said  to  have  been 
founded  upon  the  German  "  Christe,  du  Bet- 
stand  deiner   Kreuzgemeine "   of    Matthaus 


396 


THE  CHURCH   OF  GOD. 


Apelles  von  Lowenstern,  who  was  born  April 
20,  1594,  at  Neustadt,  in  Silesia.  At  an  early 
age  he  developed  fine  musical  talent,  and  was 
appointed  director  of  the  orchestra  of  the 
reigning  Duke,  at  Bernstadt,  in  1625,  and  a 
year  later  became  master  of  the  royal  school 
in  the  same  place.  Subsequently  he  became 
Director  of  Finance,  and  held  various  high 
positions  under  the  Emperors  Ferdinand  II. 
and  III.,  the  latter  of  whom  made  him  a  noble. 
He  died  at  Breslau,  April  11,  1648.  About 
thirty  hymns  are  attributed  to  him ;  these 
were  accompanied  in  the  first  editions  by  his 
own  music.  The  English  version  is  the  work 
of  Mr.  Philip  Pusey,  a  descendant  of  a  noble 
English  family,  who  was  born  June  25,  1799, 
and  died  July  9,  1855.  It  was  contributed  by 
him  to  A.  P.  Reinagle's  Psalm  and  Hymn 
Tunes,  1840. 


9f6 


The  Ministry. 


S.  M.  D. 


How  beauteous  are  their  feet 

Who  stand  on  Zion's  hill ! 
Who  bring  salvation  on  their  tongues, 

And  words  of  peace  reveal. 
How  charming  is  their  voice  ! 

How  sweet  their  tidings  are! 
"  Zion,  behold  thy  Saviour  King ; 

He  reigns  and  triumphs  here. 

2  How  happy  are  our  ears, 
That  hear  this  ioyful  sound  ! 

Which  kings  and  prophets  waited  for, 

.\nd  sought,  but  never  found. 
How  blessld  are  our  eyes, 

That  see  this  heavenly  light  I 
Prophets  and  kings  desired  it  long, 

But  died  without  the  sight. 

3  The  watchmen  join  their  voice. 
And  tuneful  notes  employ ; 

Jerusalem  breaks  forth  in  songs. 

And  deserts  learn  the  joy. 
The  Lord  makes  bare  his  arm 

Through  all  the  earth  abroad ; 
Let  every  nation  now  behold 

Their  Saviour  and  their  God ! 

In  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  Hymns  and  Spiritual 
5i?«^.y  this  poem  appeared  in  1707,  with  the 
title,  "  The  blessedness  of  Gospel  Times,  or, 
The  Revelation  of  Christ  to  Jews  and  Gen- 
tiles." It  was  inspired  by  the  passage  in  the 
fifty-second  chapter  of  Isaiah,  which  describes 
the  messengers  of  the  Gospel  bearing  over 
the  mountain-tops  the  glad  tidings  of  salvation. 
So  the  faithful  minister  comes  now  to  his 
flock  ;  his  daily  life  may  be  uniform  and  un- 
eventful, but  to  heaven's  eyes  his  work  is  in- 
teresting and  precious  as  any  done  on  earth. 
In  The  Pastor  of  Kilsyth  there  is  a  sketch 
of  such  a  career:  "  Angels  look  down  upon 
it ;  busy,  eager,  bustling  men  heed  it  not.  A 
calm  routine  of  lowly,  though  sacred  duties,  a 
constant  unvaried  ministry  of  love,  it  flows 
on  in  a  still  and  quiet  stream,  arresting  no  at- 
tention by  its  noise,  and  known  alone  to  the 


lowly  homes  it  visits  on  its  way  and  the 
flowers  and  fields  it  waters.  The  young  pas- 
tor of  Dun  was  no  exception  to  this.  He 
preached  the  Word ;  dispensed  the  sacrtd 
Supper  ;  warned  the  careless  ;  comforted  the 
sorrowing ;  baptized  little  children  ;  blessed 
the  union  of  young  and  loving  hearts  ;  visited 
the  sick,  the  dying ;  buried  the  dead  ;  pressed 
the  hand  and  whispered  words  of  peace  into 
the  ear  of  mourners ;  carried  to  the  poor 
widow  and  friendless  orphan  the  charity  of 
the  church  and  his  own  ;  slipped  in  softly  to 
some  happy  home  and  gently  broke  the  sad 
news  of  the  sudden  disaster  far  away  ;  lifted 
up  the  fallen  one  from  the  ground,  and  pointed 
to  Him  who  receiveth  the  publicans  and  the 
sinners — these  things  and  such  as  these  he 
did  in  that  little  homewalk  for  twenty  suc- 
cessive years  day  by  day ;  but  that  was  all. 
There  is  much  here  for  the  records  of  the  sky, 
but  nothing,  or  next  to  nothing,  for  the  noisy 
annals  of  time." 

917  More  Laborers,  S.  M.  D. 

Lord  of  the  harvest!  hear 

Thy  needy  servants'  cry; 
Answer  our  faith's  effectual  prayer, 

And  all  our  wants  supply. 
On  thee  we  humbly  wait ; 

Our  wants  are  in  thy  view ; 
The  harvest  truly,  Lord  !  is  great. 

The  laborers  are  few. 

2  Convert  and  send  forth  more 
Into  thy  Church  abroad  ; 

And  let  them  speak  thy  word  of  power, 

As  workers  with  their  God. 
Give  the  pure  Gospel-word, 

The  word  of  general  grace : 
Thee  let  them  preach,  the  common  Lord, 

The  Saviour  of  our  race. 

3  Oh,  let  them  spread  thy  name ; 
Their  mission  fully  prove; 

Thy  universal  grace  proclaim, 

Thy  all-redeeming  love. 
On  all  mankind  forgiven 

Empower  them  still  to  call, 
And  tell  each  creature  under  heaven 

That  thou  hast  died  for  all. 

This  is  taken  from  Rev.  Charles  Wesley's 
Hymns  and  Sacred  Poetns,  1742.  It  is  en- 
titled, "  A  Prayer  for  Laborers,"  and  it  is 
founded  upon  Matthew  9 :  36-38  :  "And  Jesus 
went  about  all  the  cities  and  villages,  teaching 
in  their  synagogues,  and  preaching  the  gospel 
of  the  kingdom,  and  healing  every  sickness, 
and  every  disease  among  the  people.  But 
when  he  saw  the  multitudes,  he  was  moved 
with  compassion  on  them,  because  they 
fainted,  and  were  scattered  abroad,  as  sheep 
having  no  shepherd.  Then  saith  he  unto  his 
disciples,  The  har\'est  truly  is  plenteous,  but 
the  laborers  are  few.  Pray  ye  therefore  the 
Lord  of  the  harvest,  that  he  will  send  forth 
laborers  into  his  harvest." 


ORGANIZATION    AND    INSTITUTIONS. 


397 


918  Psalm  137.  S.M. 

1  LOVE  thy  kingdom,  Lord ! 
The  house  of  thine  abode, 

The  church  our  blest  Redeemer  saved 
With  his  own  precious  blood. 

2  I  love  thy  church,  O  God ! 
Her  walls  before  thee  stand, 

Dear  as  the  apple  of  thine  eye, 
And  graven  on  thy  hand. 

3  For  her  my  tears  shall  fall, 
For  her  my  prayers  ascend ; 

To  her  my  cares  and  toils  be  given, 
Till  toils  and  cares  shall  end. 

4  Beyond  my  highest  joy 

I  prize  her  heavenly  ways. 
Her  sweet  communion,  solemn  vows, 
Her  hymns  of  love  and  praise. 

5  Sure  as  thy  truth  shall  last. 
To  Zion  shall  be  given 

The  brightest  glories  earth  can  yield. 
And  brighter  bliss  of  heaven. 

The  sentiment  of  the  old  temple  song  is 
the  thought  embodied  in  this  modern  hymn. 
Church  attachment  is  not  bigotry,  nor  is  it 
sectarianism.  The  spirit  of  divisiveness  is 
departing  in  our  American  churches  ;  perhaps 
that  is  well,  and  we  ought  to  be  at  least  grate- 
ful for  it.  Zealous  affection  for  our  own  de- 
nomination has  vanished  ;  but  in  some  quar- 
ters it  is  to  be  feared  that  much  went  away 
with  it.  Is  there  faith  in  anything  now  ?  Is 
there  love  for  anything  now  ?  Is  there  zeal 
for  anything  now  ?  These  questions  are 
worth  talking  about  sometimes. 

In  1797  Dr.  Timothy  Dwight,  then  a  use- 
ful and  beloved  pastor  of  Greenfield  Hill,  in 
the  town  of  Fairfield,  Conn.,  was  requested 
by  the  Congregationalist  ministers  of  Con- 
necticut to  revise  Dr.  Watts'  version  of  the 
Psalms,  and  "  to  versify  the  Psalms  omitted 
by  Watts,"  which  had  been  previously  done, 
but  very  imperfectly,  by  Joel  Barlow.  He 
accomplished  his  task  to  the  satisfaction  of 
the  parties  by  whom  he  was  employed,  add- 
ing upward  of  twenty  compositions  to  the 
volume ;  but  very  few  of  them  are  now  used. 
The  volume  he  prepared  is  now  generally 
known  and  mentioned  as  Dwighfs  Watts, 
1800.  In  this  the  hymn  now  under  our  study, 
since  grown  so  familiar  and  useful  in  all  the 
churches,  is  found.  It  is  a  free  version  of 
Psalm  137,  and  contains  eight  stanzas  in 
short  meter. 

919  Psalm  48.  S.M. 

Great  is  the  Lord  our  God, 

And  let  his  praise  be  great : 
He  makes  his  churches  his  abode, 

His  most  delightful  seat. 

2  In  Zion  God  is  known — 

A  refuge  in  distress ; 
How  bright  has  his  salvation  shone 

Through  all  her  palaces ! 


3  Oft  have  our  fathers  told. 
Our  eyes  have  often  seen, 

How  well  our  God  secures  the  fold 
Where  his  own  sheep  have  been. 

4  In  every  new  distress 
We'll  to  his  house  repair; 

We'll  think  upon  his  wondrous  grace, 
And  seek  deliverance  there. 

This  is  a  version  by  Dr.  Isaac  Watts  of 
Psalm  48,  and  was  originally  in  seven  stanzas. 
Its  central  thought  is  the  truth  that  "  the 
Church  is  the  honor  and  safety  of  a  nation," 
hence  the  spirit  of  worldliness  must  be 
guarded  against  as  a  doubly  dangerous  foe. 
No  church  was  ever  swamped  by  any  worldli- 
ness so  long  as  it  was  not  suffered  to  lay  hold 
of  the  members  of  it.  It  is  when  the  spirit 
of  greed  and  of  fashion,  of  rank  and  of  lust, 
creeps  in  over  the  proper  barrier  erected  be- 
tween the  church  and  the  world  that  the 
grand  peril  is  at  its  height.  Among  all  the 
sea-going  vessels,  little  and  large,  which  have 
sunk  in  the  waves  and  are  now  lying  down  on 
the  solemn  floor  of  the  ocean,  not  so  much  as 
one,  even  since  the  dawn  of  creation,  was 
foundered  by  the  storm  as  long  as  it  was  kept 
on  the  outside  of  it ;  it  was  always  the  water 
inside  which  made  the  trouble.  And  of  all 
the  churches  w'hich  have  perished,  since  the 
day  when  the  seven  that  received  the  letters 
in  the  Apocalypse  went  out  of  existence,  not 
one  ever  was  destroyed  by  the  world  beating 
upon  it  only  from  the  outside  ;  it  has  been  the 
rush  of  worldliness,  stealing  at  first  through 
little  crevices  of  cupidity  and  appetite,  that 
has  finally  overwhelmed  it.  Our  duty  is  to 
watch  our  own  hearts  cautiously,  and  help 
those  around  us  to  press  back  the  stream. 

920  The  Ministry.  S.  M. 

Ye  messengers  of  Christ  ! 

His  sovereign  voice  obey ; 
Arise,  and  follow  where  he  leads, 

And  peace  attend  your  way. 

2  The  Master,  whom  you  serve. 
Will  needful  strength  bestow  ; 

Depending  on  his  promised  aid. 
With  sacred  courage  go. 

3  Mountains  shall  sink  to  plains. 
And  hell  in  vain  oppose  ; 

The  cause  is  God's,  and  must  prevail 
In  spite  of  all  his  foes. 

Just  because  the  hymns  written  by  this 
mysterious  "  Mrs.  Yokes "  are  good,  and 
really  indispensable  at  times  to  a  missionary 
meeting,  it  is  all  the  more  to  be  regretted 
that  we  do  not  know  anything  about  her. 
There  was  in  1797  a  book  edited  and  pub- 
lished by  Rev.  J.  Griffin,  an  Independent  min- 
ister preaching  at  Portsea,  called  a  Selection 
of  Missionary  and  Deiwtional  Hymns.  In 
this  there  were  found  some  good  pieces,  and 
these  were   put    into  the    New  SelectioJi  of 


398 


THE   CHURCH   OF   GOD. 


Seven  Hundred  Evangelical  Hymns,  1806, 
by  J.  Dobell.  These  came  on  once  more  in 
W.  B.  Collyer's  Collection,  181 2.  They  had 
the  name  of  "  Mrs.  Vokes  "  attached  to  them. 
By  and  by  the  American  hymnals  began  to 
quote  them ;  and  some  of  them  spelled  the 
name  "  Voice,"  and  that  was  chronic.  And 
all  that  has  been  done  for  many  years  is  to 
add  that  missing  letter,  and  so  this  (no 
doubt)  most  estimable  lady  has  received  the 
distinction  of  a  restored  plural ;  and  there 
we  rest. 

921  Psalnn?,.  S.  M. 

Far  as  thy  name  is  known, 

The  world  declares  thy  praise ; 
Thy  saints,  O  Lord  !  before  thy  throne 

Their  songs  of  honor  raise. 

2  With  joy  let  Judah  stand 
On  Zion's  chosen  hill. 

Proclaim  the  wonders  of  thy  hand, 
And  counsels  of  thy  will. 

3  Let  strangers  walk  around 
The  city  where  we  dwell, 

Compass  and  view  thy  holy  ground, 
And  mark  the  buildmg  well — 

4  The  order  of  thv  house, 
The  worship  of  thy  court, 

The  cheerful  son^,  the  solemn  vows — 
And  make  a  fair  report. 

5  How  decent,  and  how  wise! 
How  glorious  to  behold  ! 

Beyond  the  pomp  that  charms  the  eyes, 
And  rites  adorned  with  gold. 

6  The  God  we  worship  now 
Will  guide  us,  till  we  die  ; 

Will  be  our  God,  while  here  below ; 
And  ours  above  the  sky. 

We  have  here  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  version  of 
Psalm  48,  Second  Part,  S.  M.  It  has  six 
stanzas,  and  has  been  handed  down  through 
the  years  almost  unchanged.  For  unreckoned 
decades  this  was  the  regular  hymn  for  ordi- 
nation services  in  New  England.  In  the 
fourth  stanza  the  first  line  was  originally, 
••  The  orders  of  thy  house  " — referring  to  in- 
stitutions, rules  and  regulations,  and  things 
of  that  kind. 

922  For  Dedication.  C.  M. 

O  THOU,  whose  own  vast  temple  stands. 

Built  over  earth  and  sea, 
Accept  the  walls  that  human  hands 

Have  raised  to  worship  thee. 

2  Lord,  from  thine  inmost  glory  send. 
Within  these  courts  to  bide, 

The  peace  that  dwelleth  without  end, 
Serenely  by  thy  side ! 

3  May  erring  minds  that  worship  here 
Be  taught  the  better  way  : 

And  they  who  mourn  and  thev  who  fear, 
Be  strengthened  as  they  pray. 

4  May  faith  grow  firm,  and  love  grow  warm, 
And  pure  devotion  rise, 

While  round  these  hallowed  walls  the  storm 
Of  earth-born  passion  dies. 


William  Cullen  Bryant  always  appeared  ex- 
ceedingly well  upon  public  occasions  involv- 
ing some  sort  of  pageant.  For  that  reason 
he  was  often  sought  to  grace  a  reception  or  a 
testimonial  meeting  or  a  memorial  assem- 
blage. Here  we  have  one  of  his  most  finished 
and  useful  hymns,  and  it  was  prepared  for  a 
church  dedication  in  New  York  in  1835.  The 
edifice  stood  in  Prince  Street,  and  was  long 
ago  destroyed  by  fire.  But  the  poem  speedily 
won  its  way  into  the  hymnals,  and  has  proved 
one  of  the  most  popular  of  the  modern  com- 
positions as  a  hymn  to  be  used  in  such  ser- 
vices, and  in  the  laying  of  corner-stones. 

In  his  later  life  Mr.  Bryant  became  con- 
nected with  the  congregation  of  Dr.  Henry 
W.  Bellows,  in  New  York,  and  was  reckoned 
as  belonging  to  the  Unitarian  Church.  This 
hymn,  beginning,  "  Thou  whose  unmeasured 
temple  stands,"  was  published  in  Singers  and 
Songs  of  the  Liberal  Faith,  1875.  The  open- 
ing line  was  changed — most  likely  by  the 
poet  himself. 

Mr.  Bryant,  during  his  life  of  over  thirty 
years  in  Roslyn,  identified  himself  with  the 
Presbyterian  Church  (of  which  his  wife  was  a 
member),  and  gave  it  his  hearty  cooperation. 
It  is  said  that  he  never  advanced  views  at 
variance  with  the  creed  of  this  church,  with 
which  he  always  partook  of  the  Lord's 
Supper, 

923  The  Ministry.  C.  M. 

'T  IS  not  a  cause  of  small  import 

The  pastor's  care  demands, 
But  what  might  fill  an  angel's  heart. 

And  filled  a  Saviour's  hands. 

2  They  watch  for  souls  for  whom  the  Lord 
Did  heavenly  bliss  forego — 

For  souls  that  must  for  ever  live 
In  rapture  or  in  woe. 

3  All  to  the  great  tribunal  haste. 
The  account  to  render  there ; 

And  shouldst  thou  strictly  mark  our  faults. 
Lord  !  how  should  we  appear  ? 

4  May  they  that  Jesus  whom  they  preach. 
Their  own  Redeemer,  see. 

And  watch  thou  daily  o'er  their  souls, 
That  they  may  watch  for  thee. 

This  poem  bears  the  date  "  Floor,  October 
21,  1736,"  and  w^as  wTitten  by  Dr.  Philip 
Doddridge  for  the  ordination  of  a  minister  in 
that  town  in  Northamptonshire,  England.  It 
was  not  published  until  the  posthumous 
Hymns  appeared  in  1755,  but  it  has  been 
widely  used  since  that  time,  especially  in  this 
country.  It  is  a  recognition  of  the  great 
qualities  needed  to  fit  a  clergyman  for  his 
task,  which,  in  the  hands  of  a  man  full  of  the 
"  divine  fire,"  may  have  a  boundless  influence, 
not  only  in  the  church  but  in  the  nation  and 


ORGANIZATION   AND  INSTITUTIONS. 


399 


the  world.  It  touches  the  question  of  obtain- 
ing men  to  be  ministers.  One  peculiarity 
there  is  in  all  the  Old  Testament  annals  of  the 
Jewish  race,  a  strong,  irrepressible  desire  for 
offspring  :  "  Give  me  children  or  I  die  ! " 
The  wish  had  its  root  in  the  reverent  hope  that 
each  new-born  infant  might  possibly  prove  to 
be  the  Messiah.  So  when  Cain  was  lying  in 
her  proud  arms.  Eve  said  joyously,  "  I  have 
gotten  a  man,  the  Lord !  "  Our  translators 
had  no  need  to  put  in  the  words  "  from  the," 
for  what  she  exultingly  proclaimed  was,  that 
the  Eden  promise  of  a  Redeemer  was  already 
fulfilled  ;  she  thought  she  had  the  Christ.  If 
all  our  modern  mothers  looked  with  equal 
longing,  faith,  hope,  and  prayer  upon  the 
sweet  face  of  each  new  infant ;  if  they  conse- 
crated it  as  Hannah  did  Samuel,  if  they 
trained  it  as  Eunice  did  Timothy,  or  Salome 
did  John,  the  man  wanted  would  be  at  our 
call  directly.  Indeed,  who  shall  say  he  is  not 
within  hearing  now  ?  Let  every  holy  woman 
bend  her  knee  this  night  by  the  bedside  to 
pray,  "Oh,  make  my  husband  the  man  more 
precious  than  gold  ! "  Let  every  father  plead 
thus  for  his  growing  child.  Perhaps  you  your- 
self are  the  man.  "  Who  knoweth  whether 
thou  art  come  to  the  kingdom  for  such  a  time 
as  this  ? "  Stir  up  the  kingly  gift  that  is 
within  you.  Try  on  the  garments  of  manly 
endeavor  and  see  whether  they  fit.  They  say 
the  wizard  warrior  of  France,  that  Napoleon 
who  so  moved  the  hearts  of  men,  once  stood 
in  front  of  his  guards  and  asked  for  a  hun- 
dred volunteers  to  lead  a  forlorn  hope.  He 
explained  how  it  must  likely  be  that  each 
would  be  killed  on  the  instant  they  drew  fire. 
Now  who  would  be  willing  to  die  for  the  em- 
peror.'' "  A  hundred  men,  forward,  step  out 
from  the  ranks  !  "  And  the  whole  regiment, 
as  one  man,  swept  three  steps  in  solid  advance 
to  the  line  and  rang  their  muskets  at  his  feet ! 
Hear  this  call  for  men,  true  men  to  the  front ! 
Are  the  heroic  days  all  ended?  Are  men 
wearied  of  Jesus  ?  Are  the  nobles  of  the 
Round  Table  all  tired  of  looking  for  good 
King  Arthur  to  come  back  to  them  again  ? 
What  is  wanted  in  every  church  is  a  man ; 
what  is  wanted  in  every  community  is  a  man ; 
what  is  wanted  in  the  land  and  the  world  is  a 
man.    Why  does  not  the  Coming  Man  come  ? 


924  A  growing  kingdom. 

Oh,  where  are  kings  and  empires  now. 
Of  old  that  went  and  came? 

But,  Lord,  thy  church  is  praying  yet, 
A  thousand  years  the  same. 

2  We  mark  her  goodly  battlements, 
And  her  foundations  strong  : 

We  hear  within  the  solemn  voice 
Of  her  unending  song. 


C.  M.  D. 


3  For  not  like  kingdoms  of  the  world 
Thy  holy  church,  O  God  ! 

Though  earthquake  shocks  are  threatening  her. 
And  tempests  are  abroad  ; — 

4  Unshaken  as  eternal  hills, 
Immovable  she  stands, 

A  mountain  that  shall  fill  the  earth, 
A  house  not  made  by  hands. 

Another  of  the  excellent  hymns  of  Rev. 
Arthur  Cleveland  Coxe,  D.  D.,  published  in 
his  Christian  Ballads,  1840.  It  was  first  print- 
ed as  a  fugitive  contribution  in  The  Church- 
man in  1 839 ;  there  it  appears  with  ten  double 
stanzas,  from  which  the  piece  in  common  use 
is  compiled  for  the  hymnals  of  almost  all  the 
modern  denominations.  The  author,  of  course, 
considered  its  sentiment  entirely  from  a  de- 
nominational point  of  view ;  but  Christian 
charity  is  exceedingly  wide  in  its  forms  of  ap- 
propriating what  it  finds  helpful  to  its  own  spir- 
itual life,  and  most  singers  probably  imagine 
that  the  thought  fits  the  history  and  useful- 
ness of  any  other  one  of  the  sects  as  well  as 
that  to  which  the  writer  gave  his  love  and 
loyalty  when  he  penned  the  verses.  The 
Evangelical  Alliance  in  1873  voiced  its  high- 
est hope  and  praise  on  one  memorable  occa- 
sion, and  all  the  churches  in  Christendom 
there  represented  found  utterance  in  the  ring- 
ing rhythm  of  this  lyric  of  Gospel  promise. 

925  Corner-stone.  H.  M. 

Christ  is  our  Corner-stone ; 

On  him  alone  we  build  ; 
With  his  true  saints  alone 
The  courts  of  heaven  are  filled : 
On  his  great  love 
Our  hopes  we  place, 
Of  present  grace 
And  joys  above. 

2  Oh,  then  with  hymns  of  praise 
These  hallowed  courts  shall  ring  ? 

Our  voices  we  will  raise, 
The  Three  in  One  to  sing  ; 
And  thus  proclaim. 
In  joyful  song 
Both  loud  and  long, 
That  glorious  name. 

3  Here  may  we  gain  from  heaven 
The  grace  which  we  implore, 

And  may  that  grace  once  given 
Be  with  us  evermore. 
Until  that  day 
When  all  the  blest 
To  endless  rest 
Are  called  away. 

In  Rev.  John  Chandler's  Hymns  of  the 
Primitive  Church,  1837,  is  found  this  fine 
translation  of  that  part  of  the  old  hymn, 
"  Urbs  beata  Hierusalem."  It  has  been  taken 
into  the  hymnals  generally,  and  has  grown 
into  frequent  use  as  a  piece  to  be  sung  at  lay- 
ing the  corner-stone  of  church  edifices.  Allu- 
sion is  made  to  three  passages,  more  or  less 
conspicuously  pointing  out  our  Lord  as  the 


400 


THE  CHURCH  OF  GOD. 


great  Head  of  the  Church:  Isaiah  28:16, 
quoted  also  in  I.  Peter  2 : 6,  and  with  these 
Ephesians  2  :  20.  In  a  pyramidal  structure  of 
architecture  there  are  five  corner-stones — four 
at  the  bottom,  and  one  aloft  on  the  top  ;  this 
is  the  "headstone"  that  is  spoken  of  in 
Zechariah  4 : 7,  and  the  "  head  of  the  corner," 
quoted  from  Psalm  1 18 :  22  in  Matthew  21:42. 

■926  The  spirit  and  the  Bride.  H.  M. 

O  THOU  that  hearest  prayer ! 

Attend  our  humble  cry ; 
And  let  thy  servants  share 

Thy  blessing  from  on  high : 
We  plead  the  promise  of  thy  word, 
Grant  us  thy  Holy  Spirit,  Lord  ! 

2  If  earthly  parents  hear 
Their  children  when  they  cry ; 

If  they,  with  love  sincere, 

Their  children's  wants  supply; 
Much  more  wilt  thou  thy  love  display. 
And  answer  when  thy  children  pray. 

3  Our  heavenly  Father  thou — 
We,  children  of  thy  grace — 

Oh,  let  thy  Spirit  now 

Descend  and  fill  the  place ; 
That  all  may  feel  the  heavenly  flame 
And  all  unite  to  praise  thy  name. 

4  And  send  thy  Spirit  down 
On  all  the  nations,  Lord, 

With  great  success  to  crown 

The  preaching  of  thy  word  : 
Till  heathen  lands  shall  own  thy  sway, 
And  cast  their  idol  gods  away. 

John  Burton,  Jr.,  author  of  this  hymn,  is  not 
to  be  confounded  with  John  Burton  of  Not- 
tingham, the  composer  of  "  Holy  Bible,  book 
divine,"  and  "  Time  is  winging  us  away." 
The  present  writer  was  born  July  23,  1803,  at 
Stratford,  a  village  in  Essex,  England,  where 
he  followed  his  trade  as  a  cooper  for  nearly 
half  a  century,  dying  there  in  1877.  Mr.  Bur- 
ton belonged  to  the  Congregational  church, 
and  was  identified  with  its  work  for  many 
years.  He  began  to  write  hymns  at  the  age 
of  nineteen,  and  his  productions  were  pub- 
lished at  first  in  the  Evangelical  Magazine. 
Later  they  appeared  in  other  periodicals  and 
in  book  form.  His  hymns  number  several 
hundred,  and  some  of  those  for  children  have 
attained  considerable  popularity,  especially 
the  one  here  given,  which  is  one  of  his  earliest 
pieces,  having  been  printed  in  1 824. 

•927  The  Church  one.  H.  M. 

One  sole  baptismal  sign, 

One  Lord  below,  above. 
One  faith,  one  hope  divine. 
One  only  watchword,  love  ; 
From  different  temples  though  it  rise, 
One  song  ascendeth  to  the  skies. 

2  Our  sacrifice  is  one ; 

One  Priest  before  the  throne, 
The  slain,  the  risen  Son, 
Redeemer,  Lord  alone ; 
And  sl^hs  from  contrite  hearts  that  spring 
Our  chief,  our  choicest  offering. 


3  Head  of  thy  church  beneath. 

The  catholic,  the  true. 
On  all  her  members  breathe. 
Her  broken  frame  renew  ; 
Then  shall  thy  perfect  will  be  done. 
When  Christians  love  and  live  as  one. 

This  poem  was  first  printed  in  J.  Leifchild's 
Original  Hymns,  1842,  with  the  name  of 
George  Robinson  as  its  author,  but  no  infor- 
mation in  regard  to  him  has  been  obtainable. 
He  is  known  to  have  written  several  other 
hymns,  but  the  one  here  given  is  the  only  one 
in  general  use  at  present.  The  title,  "  Unity," 
expresses  the  spirit  of  the  poem,  a  recog- 
nition of  the  single-minded  harmony  which 
should  characterize  the  members  of  Christ's 
church  in  all  the  essentials  of  faith  and  prac- 
tice. The  salvation  of  any  congregation  de- 
pends upon  the  restfulness  and  peace  it  en- 
joys. The  beginning  of  divisiveness  is  the 
beginning  of  death.  They  say  there  is  a 
star-fish  in  the  Caledonian  lakes,  sometimes 
dredged  up  from  the  deep  water.  It  looks 
firm  and  strong,  most  compactly  put  together. 
But  the  moment  you  pull  off  one  of  its  many 
branching  limbs,  no  matter  how  small  it  may 
be,  the  singular  creature  begins  itself  to  dis- 
locate the  rest  with  wonderful  celerity  of  con- 
tortion, throwing  away  its  radiate  arms  and 
jerking  from  their  sockets  its  members,  until 
the  entire  body  is  in  shapeless  wreck  and 
confusion  of  death,  and  nothing  remains  of 
what  was  one  of  the  most  exquisitely  beauti- 
ful forms  in  nature  save  a  hundred  wriggling 
■fragments,  each  repulsive,  and  dying  by  sui- 
cide. So  went  those  seven  fair  churches  in 
Asia  Minor  into  sudden,  remediless  ruin.  So 
any  church  may  go.  Once  rejected  of  God, 
congregations  generally  hurry  themselves  into 
dissolution  with  reckless  bickering  and  quar- 
rels, and  the  end  comes  swiftly. 

928  Christ  the  Foundation.  8s,  7s.  61. 

Christ  is  made  the  sure  foundation, 

Christ  the  head  and  corner-stone. 
Chosen  of  the  Lord  and  precious, 

Binding  all  the  church  in  one. 
Holy  Zion's  help  for  ever. 

And  her  confidence  alone. 

2  All  that  dedicated  city, 
Dearly  loved  of  God  on  high. 

In  exultant  jubilation 

Pours  perpetual  melody, 
God  the  One  in  Three  adoring 

In  glad  hymns  eternally. 

3  To  this  temple  where  we  call  thee, 
Come,  O  Lord  of  hosts,  to-day : 

With  thy  wonted  loving-kindness 

Hear  thy  servants  as  they  pray. 
And  thy  fullest  benediction 

Shed  within  its  walls  alway. 

4  Here  vouchsafe  to  all  thy  servants 
What  they  ask  of  thee  to  gain. 

What  they  gain  from  thee  for  ever 

With  the  Dless^d  to  retain. 
And  hereafter  in  thy  glory 

Evermore  with  thee  to  reign. 


ORGANIZATION    AND    INSTITUTIONS. 


401 


5  Glory  be  to  God  the  Father, 

Glory  be  to  God  the  Son, 
Glory  be  to  God  the  Spirit, 

Everlasting  Three  in  One  : 
Thee  let  heaven  and  earth  adore, 

Now,  henceforth,  and  evermore. 

From  the  second  part  of  the  old  Latin 
hymn,  "  Urbs  beata  H/er-usjilem,"  Dr.  John 
Mason  Neale  has  given  this  translation  in  his 
Medicpval  Hymns,  1851.  It  is  more  popular 
in  England  than  it  is  on  this  side  of  the 
water,  except,  perhaps,  among  Episcopalians, 
who,  as  a  denomination,  seem  very  fond  of  it. 
It  is  used  for  corner-stone  services,  and  for 
dedications  and  the  like,  with  much  accept- 
ance. 

929  Zion  above.  8s,  7s.  61. 

Blessed  city,  heavenly  Salem, 

Peaceful  vision  dim  descried; 
Built  of  living  stones  elected. 

Built  for  ever  to  abide  ; 
Angel-circled,  as  the  virgins 

For  the  Bridegroom  deck  the  bride. 

2  Newly  bright  from  heaven  descending. 
Robed  in  bridal  raiment  meet. 

Ready  for  the  heavenly  marriage. 

Forth  she  comes  her  Lord  to  greet ; 
Glorious  shine  her  golden  bulwarks  ; 

Shines  the  golden-paved  street. 

3  Radiant  gleam  her  pearly  portals. 
Widely  flung  each  ample  door. 

Where  in  marriage  garments  glistening 

They  are  entering  evermore. 
Who  the  bitter  cross  embracing 

Christ's  reproach  in  this  world  bore. 

4  All  her  halls  a  royal  priesthood 
Fills  with  music  gloriously, 

Praise  of  God  from  saintly  voices 

Ringing  out  melodiously. 
Heralding  with  endless  joyance 

God  the  One  in  persons  Three. 

5  Visit,  Lord,  this  earthly  temple 
Where  thy  presence  we  implore. 

Here  receive  the  rising  incense 

From  the  hearts  that  thee  adore, 
Sprinkle  here  thy  benedictions. 

Dews  of  healing  evermore. 

Rev.  Edward  White  Benson,  D.  D.,  is  the 
present  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  and  so  is 
denominated  the  Primate  of  all  England,  and 
in  the  order  of  rank  comes  next  to  the  royal 
family  in  Britain.  He  was  born  in  1829  in 
the  neighborhood  of  Birmingham,  and  there 
his  early  education  proceeded  till  he  entered 
Trinity  College  at  Cambridge.  He  was  grad- 
uated with  the  highest  honors  among  his 
classmates,  taking  prizes  and  honors  along  his 
course  with  a  bewildering  success  and  an  un- 
diminished popularity,  until  his  course  ended 
in  1852.  He  was  ordained  to  the  diaconate 
in  1853,  and  then  became  one  of  the  masters 
of  the  Rugby  School.  In  1857  he  received 
full  orders,  and  two  years  afterward  was  ap-  930 
pointed  the  first  Head  Master  of  Wellington 
College.  In  1869  he  was  chosen  for  a  Pre- 
bendary of  Lincoln  Cathedral,  and  discharged 


the  duties  of  examining  chaplain  to  the 
bishop.  Three  years  later  he  left  Wellington 
College  and  became  a  canon  residentiary  at 
Lincoln.     In  1873  he  was  appointed  chaplain 


ARCHBISHOP   BENSON. 


to  the  queen,  and  in  1876  was  nominated  by 
the  crown,  on  the  recommendation  of  the 
Earl  of  Beaconsfield,  first  Bishop  of  Truro, 
and  was  consecrated  to  the  episcopate  in 
April,  1877.  Five  years  he  spent  in  raising 
funds  for  a  cathedral  in  the  new  diocese,  at 
the  end  of  which  he  was  nominated  by  the 
crown,  on  the  recommendation  of  the  prime 
minister,  to  the  Archbishopric  of  Canterbury, 
then  vacant  by  the  death  of  Dr.  Tait.  Thus 
it  came  to  pass  that  this  distinguished  man 
kept  up  his  habit  of  taking  supreme  honors 
wherever  he  was.  He  must  have  been  a 
clergyman  of  the  most  exalted  character  in 
order  to  receive  such  positions  as  he  did  from 
the  old  rivals  in  office,  D'Israeli  and  Glad- 
stone alike,  satisfying  the  parties  that  were  so 
antagonistic  to  each  other,  and  reaching  the 
loftiest  position  in  the  Church. 

The  hymn  before  us  was  translated  by  Dr. 
Benson  from  the  ancient  Latin  poem  Urbs 
beata  Hierusalein,  supposed  by  the  scholars 
to  have  had  its  origin  in  the  seventh  century, 
though  its  author  is  unknown.  It  was  writ- 
ten at  Rugby,  and  was  sung  at  the  dedica- 
tion of  Wellington  College  Chapel,  July  16, 
1863.  The  rendering  is  made  from  the  first 
part  of  the  piece. 


"  A  Mighty  Fortress." 

A  MIGHTY  fortress  is  our  God, 
A  bulwark  never  failing; 

Our  Helper  he,  amid  the  flood 
Of  mortal  ills  prevailing. 

26 


P.M. 


402 


THE  CHURCH   OF  GOD. 


For  still  our  ancient  foe 
Doth  seek  to  work  his  woe ; 
His  craft  and  power  are  great, 
And  armed  with  cruel  hate, 
On  earth  is  not  his  equal. 

2  Did  we  in  our  own  strength  confide. 
Our  striving  would  be  losing ; 

Were  not  the  right  man  on  our  side, 
The  man  of  God's  own  choosing. 

Dost  ask  who  that  ;nay  be  ? 

Christ  Jesus,  it  is  he; 

Lord  Sabaoth  is  his  name, 

From  age  to  age  the  same. 
And  he  must  win  the  battle. 

3  And  though  this  world,  with  devils  filled. 
Should  threaten  to  undo  us ; 

We  will  not  fear,  for  God  hath  willed 
His  truth  to  triumph  through  us. 

Let  goods  and  kindred  go. 

This  mortal  life  also  : 

The  body  they  may  kill : 

God's  truth  abideth  still, 
His  kingdom  is  for  ever. 


im.j« 


WARTBURG  CASTLE. 


Since  the  commemoration  of  Martin  Lu- 
ther's name  and  fame  in  that  grand  anniver- 
sary celebration  which  the  churches  at  home 
and  abroad  in  their  enthusiasm  took  up  a  Ht- 
tle  while  ago,  the  translations  have  increased 
rapidly  by  which  his  admirers  have  sought  to 
bring  his  wonderful  hymn,  EM  Feste  Burg, 
into  familiar  use  in  English-speaking  cofigre- 
gations.  Some  historians  have  said  that  this 
famous  piece,  founded  upon  the  opening 
verses  of  Psalm  46,  was  written  by  Luther  on 
his  way  fo  the  Diet  of  Worms,  and  others 
have  said  that  he  composed  it  while  in  con- 
finement in  Wartburg  Castle.  But  the  dates 
of  his  hymn-books  argue  against  this.  It  was 
probably  prepared  in  a  later  year,  1529.  But 
he  may  well  be  conjectured  to  have  had  in 
mind  the  helpfulness  of  the  old  stronghold 
on  the  hill  at  Eisenach,  inside  of  whose  walls 
he  found  his  safety  in  152 1.  It  was  there  he 
defied  his  enemips  raging  without,  and  there 


he  fiung  his  inkstand  at  the  vision  of  the 
devil  within. 

The  rendering  into  English,  assumed  to  be 
on  the  whole  the  best  for  American  use,  was 
written  by  Rev.  Frederic  Henry  Hedge,  D.  D. 
He  gave  it  to  the  public  first  in  Dr.  Furness's 
Getns  of  Gerfttan  Verse,  1852,  and  after- 
wards introduced  it  into  his  own  Hymns  for 
the  Church  of  Christ,  1853.  The  author 
was  born  in  Cambridge,  Mass.,  December  12, 
1805.  He  accompanied  George  Bancroft 
during  a  foreign  tour  while  a  child  and 
studied  at  schools  in  Hanover  and  Saxony 
before  returning  to  America.  He  graduated 
at  Harvard  College  in  1825.  Having  com- 
pleted his  theological  studies  in  1829,  and 
having  preached  in  West  Cambridge  there- 
after for  six  years,  he  was  ordained  pastor  of 
a  Unitarian  Church  in  Bangor,  Me.  In  1850 
he  removed  to  Providence,  R.  I.,  and  in  1856 
to  Brookline,  Mass.,  in  each  case  with  pas- 
toral duties.  As  early  as  1857,  however,  he 
was  appointed  professor  of  ecclesiastical  his- 
tory in  the  Divinity  School  at  Cambridge. 
There  he  spent  the  rest  of  his  life,  teaching, 
editing,  issuing  books,  adorning  every  posi- 
tion he  accepted,  down  to  a  ripe  old  age. 
He  died  August  22,  1890. 

As  for  this  great  psalm  of  the  Reformation, 
nothing  needs  now  to  be  said  ;  if  only  people 
would  learn  the  music  so  as  to  sing  it  easily, 
it  would  be  like  the  voice  of  a  trumpet  at  the 
large  meetings  of  our  societies  and  boards. 
It  was  the  battle-hymn  of  Gustavus  Adolphus 
on  the  eve  of  the  conflict  at  Leipsig,  1631  ;  he 
caused  his  whole  army  to  lift  the  mighty 
choral  just  before  the  engagement.  It  was 
published,  with  the  music  also  composed  by 
Luther,  in  Klug's  Gesatigbuch,  1529.  In  Ger- 
many ever  since  that  along  the  ages  the 
whole  people  use  it  as  a  household  song  of 
adoration  and  trust.  Mendelssohn  wove  the 
strains  of  music  into  his  "  Reformation  Sym- 
phony "  with  matchless  power.  The  open- 
ing line  in  the  German  tongue  is  inscribed 
on  Luther's  monument  at  Wittenberg, 

93 1  "  One  as  we  are  one."  C.  M. 

Lord,  thou  on  earth  didst  love  thine  own. 

Didst  love  them  to  the  end  ; 
Oh,  still  from  thy  celestial  throne 

Let  gifts  of  love  descend. 

2  The  love  the  Father  bears  to  thee, 
His  own  eternal  Son, 

Fill  all  thy  saints,  till  all  shall  be 
In  pure  affection  one. 

3  As  thou  for  us  didst  stoop  so  low, 
Warmed  by  love's  holy  name. 

So  let  our  deeds  of  kindness  flow 
To  all  that  bear  thy  name. 


CHRISTIAN   FELLOWSHIP. 


403 


4  One  blessed  fellowship  of  love, 

Thy  living  church  should  stand, 
Till,  faultless,  she  at  last  above 

Shall  shine  at  thy  right  hand. 

3  Oh,  glorious  day,  when  she,  the  Bride, 

With  her  dear  Lord  appears  ! 
Then,  robed  in  beauty  at  his  side. 

She  shall  forget  her  tears  ! 

Among  Dr.  Ray  Palmer's  many  valuable 
hymns  is  to  be  found  the  one  quoted  above, 
which  first  appeared  in  Songs  /or  the  Sanc- 
tuary, 1865.  It  is  a  prayer  for  the  reconcili- 
ation of  all  opposing  elements  in  the  Chris- 
tian Church,  and  their  union  through  love  in  a 
perfect  whole.  For  thousands  of  years  the 
brightest  minds  and  the  purest  hearts  of  his- 
tory have  been  laboring  to  reduce  doctrines 
to  creeds,  and  duties  to  codes  of  behavior. 
Yet  they  have  not  succeeded,  in  any  one 
grand  particular,  in  the  effort  to  command 
universal  consent.  The  announcement  of 
any  plan  of  reconciliation  between  two  op- 
posing parties  almost  invariably  leads  to  the 
formation  of  a  still  more  belligerent  third  one. 
But  be  of  good  courage,  brother  man  !  Leave 
it  to  a  petulant  Pilate  to  ask,  "  What  is 
truth  }"  and  go  out  without  waiting  a  decor- 
ous instant  for  his  answer.  The  ancient  an- 
agrammatists  found  long  ago  that  the  letters 
which  make  up  Quid  est  Veritas  ?  are  exact- 
ly the  same  as  those  which  make  up  Est  vzr 
qui  adest.  What  is  truth  ?  Truth  was  the 
man  who  stood  before  him  !  That  was  the 
truth  in  life ;  he  was  the  King  of  the  king- 
dom of  truth,  Jesus  the  Christ. 

Truth  in  doctrine  still  lies  at  the  bottom  of 
the  well.  "  Thou  hast  nothing  to  draw  with, 
and  the  well  is  deep."  But  if  you  go  on  be- 
coming more  and  more  purely  the  child  of 
God  among  your  brothers  and  sisters  on 
earth,  seeking  more  and  more  devoutly  for 
just  a  glimpse  of  truth,  gazing  down  wist- 
fully after  it,  bending  over  the  curb  as  you 
used  to  bend  in  your  childhood  under  the 
sweep  when  you  thirsted  for  the  cool  stream, 
God  your  Father  may  not  give  you  truth,  but 
he  will  show  you  the  thing  next  to  it  in  value — 
the  face  of  a  true  man,  which  you  may  thank 
him  humbly  that  you  recognize  as  your  own. 


932 


'  Little  Flock: 


CM. 


Church  of  the  ever-living  God, 

The  Father's  gracious  choice, 
Amid  the  voices  of  this  earth 

How  feeble  is  thy  voice ! 

2  Not  many  rich  or  noble  called, 
Not  many  great  or  wise  ; 

They  whom  God  makes  his  kings  and  priests 
Are  poor  in  human  eyes. 

3  But  the  chief  Shepherd  comes  at  length  ; 
Their  feeble  days  are  o'er. 

No  more  a  handful  in  the  earth, 
A  little  flock  no  more. 


4  Then  entering  the  eternal  halls, 

In  robes  of  victor>'. 
That  mighty  multitude  shall  keep 

The  joyous  jubilee. 

In  Dr.  Horatius  Bonar's  Hymns  of  Faith 
and  Hope,  first  series,  1857,  this  forms  part 
of  a  long  piece  with  thirteen  stanzas.  From 
this  the  verses  now  before  us  have  been 
selected.  "  Fear  not,  little  flock ;  for  it  is 
your  Father's  good  pleasure  to  give  you  the 
kingdom,"  Luke  12:32.  This  might  well 
have  been  the  motto  of  the  poem.  There  is 
a  sense  of  pitiableness  in  the  weakness  of 
human  endeavor  as  it  sets  itself  deliberately 
to  evangelize  the  whole  world.  The  figures 
cross  each  other ;  rhetoric  has  no  right  to 
talk  about  giving  a  kingdom  to  some  sheep. 
But  there  are  seasons  when  the  mind  catches 
dim  similitudes  one  at  a  time,  disintegrates 
them  swiftly,  and  accepts  the  instruction. 
The  Church  is  so  feeble,  and  yet  God's  help 
makes  it  omnipotent.  The  sheep  in  Christ's 
fold,  suddenly  called  into  royal  rank,  obey  the 
same  rules  of  speech  as  the  Lamb  does 
when  he  sits  in  the  midst  of  the  throne  to  be 
their  King. 

933  I.John  \:2\.  CM. 

How  sweet,  how  heavenly  is  the  sight, 

When  those  who  love  the  Lord 
In  one  another's  peace  delight. 

And  so  fulfill  his  word  ! 

2  When  each  can  feel  his  brother's  sigh. 
And  with  him  bear  a  part ! 

When  sorrow  flows  from  every  eye. 
And  joy  from  heart  to  heart ! 

3  When,  free  from  envy,  scorn,  and  pride, 
Our  wishes  all  above. 

Each  can  his  brother's  failings  hide. 
And  show  a  brother's  love ! 

4  Let  love,  in  one  delightful  stream, 
Through  every  bosom  flow ; 

And  union  sweet  and  dear  esteem 
In  every  action  glow. 

5  Love  is  the  golden  chain  that  binds 
The  happy  souls  above ; 

And  he  's  an  heir  of  heaven  who  finds 
His  bosom  glow  with  love. 

The  Walworth  Hymns,  1792,  by  Rev. 
Joseph  Swain,  contains  this  poem,  which  is 
entitled  "  Communion  of  Saints."  It  has  re- 
tained a  place  in  common  use,  from  its  sim- 
plicity of  expression  joined  to  beauty  of  sen- 
timent. Love  is  the  burden  of  its  song,  the 
"  golden  chain  that  binds  the  happy  souls 
above." 

In  an  old  ecclesiastical  tradition  it  is  related 
of  the  apostle  John,  who  was  then  the  very 
last  of  the  chosen  followers  of  Jesus,  that  in 
his  closing  years  of  feebleness,  when  too 
infirm  for  walking,  he  was  wont  to  be  borne 
into  the  Christian  assemblies  for  the  mere 


40+ 


THE  CHURCH   OF  GOD. 


purpose  of  repeating  a  brief  sentence :  "Little 
children,  love  one  another." 

He  was  the  apostle  of  love,  as  Paul  was 
the  apostle  of  logic.  So  it  is  exceedingly  in- 
teresting to  find  Paul  in  one  great  instance 
giving  a  description  of  that  peculiar  grace 
which  John  had  so  urged  and  exemplified. 
For  certainly  everybody  understands  that  the 
gift  called  "charity,"  in  I.  Corinthians  13,  is 
nothing  more  nor  less  than  Christian  love. 
Our  later  uses  of  the  word  have  limited  it,  so 
that  it  refers  now  almost  exclusively  to  gen- 
erosity in  the  bestowment  of  alms.  But  in 
the  New  Testament  it  signifies  that  far- 
reaching  brotherly  affection  which  is  the 
peculiar  characteristic  of  the  household  of 
God. 

934  "  One  family.'"  C.  M.  D. 

Let  saints  below  in  concert  sing 

With  those  to  glory  gone ; 
For  all  the  servants  of  our  King 

In  earth  and  heaven  are  one. 
One  family — we  dwell  in  him — 

One  church  above,  beneath, 
Though  now  divided  by  the  stream, 

The  narrow  stream  of  death  ;— 

2  One  army  of  the  living  God, 
To  his  command  we  bow  ; 

Part  of  the  host  have  crossed  the  flood, 

And  part  are  crossing  now. 
Ev'n  now  to  their  eternal  home 

Some  happy  spirits  fly ; 
And  we  are  to  the  mai^in  come, 

And  soon  expect  to  die. 

3  Ev'n  now  by  faith  we  join  our  hands 
With  those  that  went  before, 

And  greet  the  ransomed  blessed  bands 

Upon  the  eternal  shore. 
Lord  Jesus,  be  our  constant  guide ! 

And,  when  the  word  is  given, 
Bid  death's  cold  flood  its  waves  divide 

And  land  us  safe  in  heaven. 

This  is  taken  from  Rev.  Charles  Wesley's 
Funeral  Hynms,  second  series,  1759.  The 
author  died  in  London,  March  29,  1788.  His 
biographer  says  it  was  afterwards  ascertained 
that  John  Wesley  was  in  Shropshire,  and  at 
the  moment  of  his  brother's  death  he  and  his 
congregation  were  singing  Charles  Wesley's 
hymn — 

"  One  army  of  the  living  God, 
To  his  command  wc  bow ; 
Part  of  the  host  have  crossed  the  flood. 
And  part  are  crossing  now." 

The  spiritual  vision  it  suggests  is  that  of  an 
unbroken  line  of  pilgrims  approaching  the 
stream,  and  then  waiting  in  "  the  land  of  Beu- 
lah  "  for  the  summons  to  cross  over  into  the 
Celestial  City.  It  makes  us  glad  to  see  how 
well  such  a  conception  antidotes  the  "  Vision 
of  Mirza"  in  Addison's  Spectator.  The  mel- 
ancholy of  a  ceaseless  disappearance  through 
the  trap-doors  of  a  bridge  is  truly  unspeak- 


able. Here  all  is  full  of  cheer  and  joy.  We 
are  so  close  to  each  other  after  all !  In  our 
feebleness  and  mistake  we  sometimes  look 
upon  those  who  are  taken  from  us  as  dead  ; 
whereas,  the  correct  conception  is  that  they 
have  never  been  so  much  alive  as  now.  An  aged 
believer  was  met  by  his  friend,  who,  grasp- 
ing his  hand,  said,  "  Why,  I  had  not  thought 
you  were  in  the  land  of  the  living  !"  "  I  am 
not  yet,"  was  the  clearer  answer,  "  but  I  shall 
enter  it  soon."  Those  who  are  gone  are  pre- 
served, those  who  are  departed  are  at  home, 
those  who  are  lost  are  saved.  "  That  which 
thou  sowest  is  not  quickened  except  it  die." 
In  all  the  plenitude  of  enjoyment,  in  all  the 
exercise  of  powers  newly  invigorate,  in  the 
very  sunlight  of  reunion  and  communion,  they 
are  w^alking  this  very  day  in  an  exalted  exist- 
ence, of  which  we  know  nothing  as  yet  but 
the  glimmer  of  its  gladness  through  the  trans- 
lucent gates  of  pearl.  Said  the  dying  Taylor, 
"  God  has  a  work  even  in  heaven  for  his  chil- 
dren to  do." 

935  Hebrews  12 :  18-24.  C.  M.  D. 

Not  to  the  terrors  of  the  Lord, 

The  tempest,  fire,  and  smoke  ; 
Not  to  the  thunder  of  that  word 

Which  God  on  Sinai  spoke; 
But  we  are  come  to  Zion's  hill, 

The  city  of  our  God  ; 
Where  milder  words  declare  his  will, 

And  speak  his  love  abroad. 

2  Behold  the  innumerable  host 
Of  angels  clothed  in  light ; 

Behold  the  spirits  of  the  just, 
Whose  faith  is  turned  to  sight ! 

Behold  the  blest  assembly  there, 
Whose  names  are  writ  in  heaven  ! 

And  God,  the  Judge  of  all,  declare 
Their  vilest  sins  forgiven. 

3  The  saints  on  earth,  and  all  the  dead, 
But  one  communion  make ; 

All  join  in  Christ,  their  living  Head, 

And  of  his  grace  partake. 
In  such  society  as  this 

My  weary  soul  would  rept ; 
The  man  that  dwells  where  Jesus  is 

Must  be  for  ever  blest. 

In  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  Hymns  this  is  No.  152 
of  Book  II.  It  bears  the  title,  "  Sinai  and 
Sion,"  and  refers  to  Hebrews  12 :  18-24.  In- 
deed, it  is  a  paraphrase  of  that  entire  passage, 
one  of  the  most  wonderfully  picturesque  in 
all  the  Bible.  The  apostle  is  contrasting  the 
position  of  Christians  under  the  new  covenant 
with  that  of  believers  under  the  old.  He 
brings  to  their  remembrance  the  terms  of 
communication  upon  which  they  could  hear 
from  God  or  send  messages  to  heaven.  Then 
all  was  awful  and  alarming ;  now  all  was 
peace,  pardon,  and  love.  "  For  ye  are  not  come 
unto  the  mount  that  might  be  touched,  and 
that  burned  with  fire,  nor  unto  blackness,  and 


CHRISTIAN    FELLOWSHIP. 


405 


darkness,  and  tempest,  and  the  sound  of  a 
trumpet,  and  the  voice  of  words ;  which  voice 
they  that  heard  entreated  that  the  word  should 
not  be  spoken  to  them  any  more:  (for  they  could 
not  endure  that  which  was  commanded.  And 
if  so  much  as  a  beast  touch  the  mountain,  it 
shall  be  stoned,  or  thrust  through  w^ith  a  dart : 
and  so  terrible  was  the  sight,  that  Moses  said, 
I  exceedingly  fear  and  quake :)  but  ye  are 
come  unto  mount  Sion,  and  unto  the  city  of 
the  living  God,  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  and 
to  an  innumerable  company  of  angels,  to  the 
general  assembly  and  church  of  the  firstborn, 
which  are  written  in  heaven,  and  to  God  the 
Judge  of  all,  and  to  the  spirits  of  just  men 
made  perfect,  and  to  Jesus  the  mediator  of 
the  new  covenant,  and  to  the  blood  of  sprink- 
ling, that  speaketh  better  things  than  that  of 
Abel." 

93'5  "IVe  are  thine."  S.  M. 

Dear  Saviour!  we  are  thine, 

By  everlasting  bands ; 
Our  hearts,  our  souls,  we  would  resign 

Entirely  to  thy  hands. 

2  To  thee  we  still  would  cleave 
With  ever-growing  zeal ; 

If  millions  tempt  us  Christ  to  leave. 
Oh,  let  them  ne'er  prevail ! 

3  Thy  Spirit  shall  unite 

Our  souls  to  thee,  our  Head  ; 
Shall  form  in  us  thine  image  bright, 
And  teach  thy  paths  to  tread. 

4  Death  may  our  souls  divide 
From  these  abodes  of  clay  ; 

But  love  shall  keep  us  near  thy  side 
Through  all  the  gloomy  way. 

5  Since  Christ  and  we  are  ore, 
Why  should  we  doubt  or  fear  ? 

If  he  in  heaven  has  fixed  his  throne 
He'll  fix  his  members  there. 

Dr.  Philip  Doddridge  wrote  this  to  go  with 
a  sermon  upon  I.  Corinthians  6  :  17.  His  title 
was,  "  Being  joined  to  Christ  and  one  Spirit 
with  him."  It  has  five  stanzas,  and  is  reck- 
oned as  No.  267  in  his  Hyjtins,  1755.  The 
believer  is  represented  as  having  a  living  un- 
ion to  the  Lord  Jesus  by  faith.  Thoroughly 
consecrated  to  him,  he  takes  his  life  from  him 
as  the  members  of  the  body  take  it  from  the 
head.  His  reverence  for  Jesus  is  simply  mas- 
terful and  complete.  Once,  among  the  Scot- 
tish highlands,  the  Queen  of  Great  Britain, 
storm-stayed,  took  refuge  in  a  cottage.  Not 
till  after  she  had  gone  did  the  simple-hearted 
housekeeper  know  who  it  was  she  had  shel- 
tered under  her  roof.  Then  she  quietly  took 
the  chair  which  her  sovereign  had  occupied, 
and  set  it  reverently  aside,  saying,  "  None 
shall  ever  sit  in  that  seat  less  than  the  heir  of 
a  crown  I  "  Loyal  word  that !  And  when 
the   august   Monarch  of  heaven  has  conde- 


scended just  to  enter  our  hearts,  there  is  no 
place  there  for  any  one  less  than  one  of  his 
children.  There  is  nothing  in  all  our  posses- 
sions that  can  possibly  be  too  good  for  him. 
Whatever  he  will  grace  with  his  touch,  or 
honor  with  his  use,  shall  be  reserved  to  him, 
and  to  him  alone.  There  is  nothing  more 
pathetic  than  the  length  of  self-devotion,  to 
the  extreme  of  which  young  converts  appear 
ready  to  go.  Like  children,  just  come  home 
to  a  loved  and  loving  parent,  they  find  luxury 
in  simply  trying  to  surrender  all — all — to  him. 
They  are  not  going  to  be  merely  cinnamon- 
trees,  fragrant  in  the  outer  bark  only ;  they 
the  rather  choose  sandal-wood  for  their  sym- 
bol, and  mean  to  be  strongest  at  the  inner- 
most heart,  in  order  to  fill  the  whole  house 
with  innocent  love. 

937  "  Our  common  faith."  S.  M. 

Jesus,  our  faith  increase  ; 

Fast  knit,  O  Lord,  to  thee, 
Around  us  bind  the  bond  of  peace. 

The  Spirit's  unity. 

2  One  God  and  Father  ours, 
One  Christ  his  gift  of  love, 

One  Spirit  shed  in  living  showers. 
One  home  prepared  above. 

3  To  one  glad  hope  we  cling, 
Through  Jesus'  life  and  death  ; 

One  theme  of  saving  grace  we  sing. 
And  ours  one  common  faith. 

4  Then  ^rant  us,  Lord,  one  mind, 
One  will  in  all  our  ways, 

One  heart  to  thine  own  truth  inclined. 
One  mouth  to  speak  thy  praise. 

In  the  Hymns  and  Spiritual  Songs  com- 
piled for  the  use  of  the  denomination  known 
as  the  Plymouth  Brethren,  this  poem  was 
published  anonymously  in  1870.  Nothing  is 
known  of  the  author,  but  the  hymn  itself  is  a 
good  expression  of  the  urgent  need  of  the 
whole  race,  a  larger  measure  of  Christ's  great 
love  in  his  followers.  It  is  awful  for  men 
to  pervert  piety  into  pressure,  and  turn  grace 
into  grip ;  and  no  sanctimoniousness  of  unc- 
tuous talk  can  apologize  for  it.  Pure,  sweet 
sunshine  in  God's  vineyard  was  never  intended 
to  dry  up  and  harden  the  vines  into  wire,  as 
if  their  w^hole  autumn  work  consisted  in  climb- 
ing a  trellis  or  strangling  a  tree.  It  is  meant 
to  swell  out  fresh  buds  and  broaden  new 
branches  ;  to  warm  up  the  leaves  and  render 
more  succulent  the  tendrils  ;  and  by  and  by, 
in  the  time  thereof,  to  kindle  the  clusters  with 
luminous  purple  and  flash  their  mysterious 
juices  into  wine. 

Indeed,  indeed,  what  this  poor,  lost,  weary 
world  needed,  on  the  night  when  the  Bethle- 
hem angels  sang,  was  not  so  much  Christian- 
ity as  it  was  Christ !     And  what  this  waiting, 


4o6 


THE  CHURCH   OF  GOD. 


wistful  race  wants  here  and  needs  to-day  is 
not  so  much  a  religion  as  it  is  some  religious 
men  ;  not  so  much  Christ  in  creed  and  Christ 
in  miracle  as  it  is  Christ  in  love,  Christ  in  life, 
whole,  human,  and  humane  ! 

938  Blest  communion.  S.  M. 

Blest  are  the  sons  of  peace, 
Whose  hearts  and  hopes  are  one  ; 

Whose  kind  designs  to  serve  and  please 
Through  all  their  actions  run. 

2  Thus  on  the  heavenly  hills 

The  saints  are  blest  above, 
Where  joy  like  morning  dew  distills, 

And  all  the  air  is  love. 

This  is  Ur.  Watts'  version  of  Psalm  1 33,  S. 
M.  It  consists  of  four  stanzas,  and  is  enti- 
tled, "  Communion  of  Saints,  or,  Love  and 
Worship  in  a  Family."  It  finds  a  "  parallel 
passage "  in  the  quaint  legend  of  a  Persian 
sage  :  "  Having  once  in  my  youth,"  he  says, 
"  notions  of  severe  piety,  I  used  to  rise  in  the 
night  to  pray  and  read  the  Koran.  And  on 
one  occasion,  as  I  was  engaged  in  these  exer- 
cises, my  father,  a  man  of  practical  religion 
and  of  eminent  virtue,  awoke  while  I  was 
studying  aloud.  I  said  to  him,  '  Behold,  thy 
other  children  are  lost  in  slumber,  but  I  alone 
wake  to  praise  God.'  And  he  answered, 
'  Son  of  my  soul,  it  is  better  to  sleep  than  to 
wake  to  remark  the  faults  of  thy  brethren.'  " 
In  the  biography  of  the  author  of  this  hymn, 
it  is  related  that  he  grew  to  be  of  so  gentle 
and  gracious  a  disposition  that  once,  when  an 
intimate  friend,  being  indignant  at  some  in- 
jury inflicted  upon  him,  blamed  him  for  not 
seriously  reprehending  the  man  who  had  done 
it,  he  said,  in  tones  of  deprecation,  "  I  wish, 
my  dear  sir,  you  would  do  it  for  me  I "  Such 
songs  as  this  must  often  have  been  sung  in 
the  household  of  Sir  Thomas  Abney.  This 
must  have  been  the  "  pious  house "  where 
"  zeal  and  friendship  "  often  met.- 

939  Meeting,  after  absence.  S.  M. 

And  are  we  yet  alive, 

And  see  each  other's  face  ? 
Glory  and  praise  to  Jesus  give 

For  his  redeeming  grace. 

2  What  troubles  have  we  seen. 
What  conflicts  have  we  passed. 

Fightings  without  and  fears  within, 
Since  we  assembled  last ! 

3  But  out  of  all  the  Lord 
Hath  brought  us  by  his  love : 

And  still  he  doth  his  help  aflford, 
And  hides  our  life  above. 

This  piece  of  Rev.  Charles  Wesley  is  found 
m  the  Hymns  and  Sacred  Poems,  1749.  It  is 
used  at  the  opening  session  of  an  American 
Conference  in  the  Methodist  denomination. 
The  presiding  bishop  gives  it  out,  and  then 


follow  the  reading  of  the  Scriptures  and 
prayer.  Evangelical  fervor  vents  itself  in 
loud  responses  to  praise  and  suppHcation. 
Living  piety  is  naturally  liturgical.  Thus 
prepared  for  business,  a  secretary,  who 
chooses  his  own  assistants,  is  elected  and  the 
roll  of  members  is  called.  Seriousness  ap- 
pears in  ever}^  face  as  names  are  called  whose 
owners  are  silent,  "  dead  on  the  field  of  battle.'' 

940  "  Hold  us,  that  we  may  not  fall."  S.  M. 

O  Christ,  the  eternal  Light 

Of  every  sun  and  sphere  ! 
Illumine  thou  our  mortal  night. 

And  keep  our  spirits  clear. 

2  Let  nothing  evil  smite, 
Nor  enemy  invade, 

And  let  us  stainless  be,  and  white. 
By  nothing  base  betrayed. 

3  Guard  thou  the  hearts  of  all. 
But  chiefly  of  thine  own; 

And  hold  us  that  we  may  not  fall, 
Through  thy  great  might  alone  I 

4  That  so  our  souls  may  sing, 
When  favoring  light  they  see. 

And  every  vow  a  tribute  bring 
To  God  in  Trinity ! 

This  is  one  of  the  best  of  Rev.  Samuel  Wil- 
loughby  Duflfield's  pieces.  It  was  one  of  the 
fruits  of  his  study  of  Latin  hymns.  He  pub- 
lished it  in  Laudes  Domini,  1 884,  as  a  transla- 
tion of  the  "  Chrisie  lumen  perpetuum  "  of 
Magnus  Felix  Ennodius,  bishop  of  Pavia  ;  he 
said  no  rendering  of  it  into  English  for  Chris- 
tian use  had  ever  been  made  of  it  before. 
The  sentiment  suggested  by  it  is  quite  fresh 
and  spirited.  It  represents  the  serene  happi- 
ness of  the  pardoned  believer  as  he  comes  to 
his  first  communion.  He  is  now  a  child  ac- 
cepted into  his  Father's  house.  He  loves,  he 
trusts,  he  rejoices,  he  sings.  It  would  seem 
as  if  a  true  Christian  could  not  possibly  live  a 
moment  without  experiencing  the  promptings 
of  these  new  feelings  within.  Satisfied  that 
God  is  faithful,  and  that  Christ  is  in  earnest, 
the  believer  imbibes  his  Master's  spirit.  He 
enters  into  an  actual  joyous  repose  of  soul. 
All  his  powers  are  reduced  to  obedience  to 
law  and  are  working  under  rules  of  harmony 
and  naturalness.  He  has  suddenly  come  back 
to  spiritual  health ;  and,  like  all  convalescents, 
feels  generous  and  agreeable,  glad  to  meet 
and  to  make  a  world  full  of  friends.  Sin  is 
forgiven  and  the  curse  removed  from  his  soul. 
There  may  be  a  few  clouds  of  old  wrath  still 
hanging  over  his  head ;  but  the  storm  is  in 
full  retreat,  and  the  thunders  already  growing 
distant  are  no  longer  for  him  to  hear.  And 
through  many  a  little  rift  among  their  folds 
his  eye  at  times  gains  glimpses  of  the  pure, 
blue,  stormless  sky  beyond  them.     Now  and 


CHRISTIAN    FELLOWSHIP. 


407 


then  there  comes  a  ray  of  serene  sunshine, 
so  warm  and  fresh,  so  bright  and  gladdening, 
that  he  lifts  his  heart  in  childlike  greeting 
unto  him  who  sent  it,  and  thankfully  mur- 
murs, "  My  Lord  and  my  God  ! " 

941  "  Christian  Love."  S.  M. 

Blest  be  the  tie  that  binds 
Our  hearts  in  Christian  love; 

The  fellowship  of  kindred  minds 
Is  like  to  that  above. 

2  Before  our  Father's  throne 
We  pour  our  ardent  prayers  ; 

Our  fears,  our  hopes,  our  aims  are  one, 
Our  comforts  and  our  cares. 

3  We  share  our  mutual  woes, 
Our  mutual  burdens  bear; 

And  often  for  each  other  flows 
The  .sympathizing  tear. 

4  When  we  asunder  part, 
It  gives  us  inward  pain  ; 

But  we  shall  still  be  joined  in  heart. 
And  hope  to  meet  again. 

5  This  glorious  hope  revives 
Our  courage  by  the  way  ; 

While  each  in  expectation  lives. 
And  longs  to  see  the  day. 

6  From  sorrow,  toil,  and  pain, 
And  sin,  we  shall  be  free, 

And  perfect  love  and  friendship  reign 
Through  all  eternity. 

This  is  the  best  and  most  welcome  of  all 
the  hymns  given  to  sacred  use  among  the 
churches  by  Re\^  John  Fawcett,  D.  D.  It  was 
written  in  1772.  The  traditional  incident  of 
its  composition  is  given  in  all  the  biographies  of 
this  excellent  man.  It  had  this  quaint  origin. 
After  he  had  been  preaching  several  years  to 
his  faithful  and  loving  flock  at  Wainsgate, 
meanwhile  his  family  increasing  far  more 
rapidly  than  his  income,  he  thought  it  was  his 
duty  to  accept  a  call  to  settle  as  pastor  of  a 
Baptist  church  in  London,  to  succeed  the  cel- 
ebrated Dr.  Gill,  which  he  did.  He  preached 
his  farewell  sermon  to  his  church  in  York- 
shire, and  loaded  six  or  seven  wagons  with  his 
furniture,  books,  etc.,  to  be  carried  to  his  new 
residence.  All  this  time  the  members  of  his 
poor  church  were  almost  broken  -  hearted  ; 
fervently  did  they  pray  that  even  now  he 
might  not  leave  them  ;  and  as  the  time  for  his 
departure  arrived,  men,  women,  and  children 
clung  around  him  and  his  family  in  perfect 
agony  of  soul.  The  last  wagon  was  being 
loaded,  when  the  good  man  and  his  wife  sat 
down  on  one  of  the  packing-cases  to  weep. 
Looking  into  his  tearful  face,  while  tears  like 
rain  fell  down  her  own  cheeks,  his  devoted 
wife  said,  "  O  John,  John,  I  cannot  bear  this ! 
I  know  not  how  to  go !"  "  Nor  I  either," 
said  the  good  man ;  "  nor  will  we  go.  Un- 
load the  wagons  and  put  everything  in  the 


place  where  it  was  before."  The  people  cried 
for  joy.  A  letter  was  sent  to  the  church  in 
London  to  tell  them  that  his  coming  to  them 
was  impossible ;  and  the  good  man  buckled 
on  his  armor  for  renewed  labors  on  a  salary' 
of  less  than  two  hundred  dollars  a  year.  It  is 
said  that  this  hymn  was  written  to  commem- 
orate his  continuance  with  his  people.  It  was 
not  only  useful  then,  but  has  been  sung  by 
tens  of  thousands  since,  and  no  doubt  will 
be  for  generations  yet  to  come. 

Other  invitations  came  to  this  devoted  ser- 
vant of  God,  but  he  invariably  declined  them, 
and  went  along  in  his  patient  and  growing 
way  in  the  midst  of  his  loving  people  for  a 
generation  more.  In  February,  18 16,  he  re- 
linquished his  pastoral  duties  by  reason  of  a 
stroke  of  paralysis.  He  died  July  25,  1817: 
his  last  words  were,  as  the  end  drew  near, 
"  Come,  Lord  Jesus,  come  quickly  !" 

942  Christ's  Presence.  S.  M. 

Jesus,  we  look  to  thee, 

Thy  promised  presence  claim  ; 

Thou  in  the  midst  of  us  shalt  be, 
Assembled  in  thy  name. 

2  Not  in  the  name  of  pride 
Or  selfishness  we  meet ; 

From  nature's  paths  we  turn  aside. 
And  worldly  thoughts  forget. 

3  We  meet  the  grace  to  take 
Which  thou  hast  freely  given  ; 

We  meet  on  earth  for  thy  dear  sake, 
That  we  may  meet  in  heaven. 

4  Present  we  know  thou  art, 
But,  oh,  thyself  reveal! 

Now,  Lord,  let  every  bounding  heart 
Thy  mighty  comfort  feel. 

5  Oh,  may  thy  quickening  voice 
The  death  of  sin  remove ; 

And  bid  our  inmost  souls  rejoice, 
In  hope  of  perfect  love. 

The  selection  is  made  once  more  from  the 
Hymns  and  Sacred  Poe/iis  of  Rev.  Charles 
Wesley,  Vol.  II.,  1749,  and  entitled  by  him, 
"  At  Meeting  of  Friends." 

943  Christian  Union.  S.  M. 

s  ■     Let  party  names  no  more 

The  Christian  world  o'erspread  ; 
Gentile  and  Jew,  and  bond  and  free. 
Are  one  in  Christ  their  head. 

2  Among  the  saints  on  earth 
Let  mutual  love  be  found ; 

Heirs  of  the  same  inheritance, 
With  mutual  blessings  crowned. 

3  Thus  will  the  church  below 
Resemble  that  above, 

Where  streams  of  pleasure  ever  flow. 
And  every  heart  is  love. 

It  is  of  singular  interest  that  we  discover 
this  touching  little  hymn,  so  appropriate  for 
singing  at  a  Communion  service,  was  com- 
posed by  the  eminent  Baptist  minister,  Rev, 


4o8 


THE   CHURCH  OF  GOD. 


Benjamin  Beddome,  and  first  published  in  the 
Bristol  Baptist  Collection,  1769.  We  choose 
to  leave  the  comment  upon  it  to  the  great 
Baptist  preacher,  the  most  honored,  perhaps, 
of  all  the  leaders  in  that  denomination,  Rob- 
ert Hall.  He  was  bitterly  opposed  to  the 
dogma  of  close  communion  which  still  main- 
tains itself  in  the  Baptist  Church  of  America, 
but  which  is  comparatively  extinct  in  Great 
Britain.  "  Reflect,"  he  says,  "on  the  enormous 
impropriety  of  demanding  a  greater  unifor- 
mity amongst  the  candidates  for  admission 
into  the  Church  militant  than  is  requisite  for 
union  with  the  Church  triumphant — of  claim- 
ing from  the  faithful,  while  encompassed  with 
darkness  and  imperfection,  more  harmony 
and  correctness  of  sentiment  than  is  necessary 
to  qualify  them  to  sit  down  with  Abraham, 
Isaac,  and  Jacob,  in  the  kingdom  of  God — 
of  pretending  to  render  a  Christian  society 
more  sacred  and  more  difficult  of  access  than 
the  abode  of  the  Divine  Majesty — and  of  in- 
vesting every  little  Baptist  teacher  with  the 
prerogative  of  repelling  from  his  communion 
a  Howe,  a  Leighton,  or  a  Brainerd,  whom  the 
Lord  of  glory  will  welcome  to  his  presence. 
Transubstantiation  presents  nothing  more  re- 
volting to  the  dictates  of  common  sense." 

944  "  Glorious  things."  8s,  7s.  D. 

Glorious  things  of  thee  are  spoken, 

Zion,  city  of  our  God  ! 
He,  whose  word  cannot  be  broken, 

Formed  thee  for  his  own  abode : 
On  the  Rock  of  Ages  founded, 

What  can  shake  thy  sure  repose  ? 
With  salvation's  walls  surrounded, 

Thou  inay'st  smile  at  all  thy  foes. 

2  See !  the  streams  of  living  waters. 
Springing  from  eternal  love, 

Well  supply  thy  sons  and  daughters, 

And  all  fear  of  want  remove : 
Who  can  faint,  while  such  a  river 

Ever  flows  their  thirst  to  assuage? — 
Grace,  which  like  the  Lord,  the  Giver, 

Never  fails  from  age  to  age. 

3  Round  each  habitation  hovering, 
See  the  cloud  and  fire  appear 

For  a  glory  and  a  covering. 
Showing  that  the  Lord  is  near! 

Thus  deriving  from  their  banner 
Light  by  night  and  shade  by  day. 

Safe  they  feed  upon  the  manna 
Which  he  gives  them  when  they  pray. 

One  of  Rev.  John  Newton's  best  contribu- 
tions to  the  Olney  Hymns,  1779,  entitled, 
"Zion;  or.  The  City  of  God."  The  piece, 
which  consists  of  five  double  stanzas,  bristles 
with  Scripture  references.  Mainly  it  is  founded 
upon  Psalm  87,  and  opens  with  the  very  words 
of  the  third  verse  of  it.  But  the  chief  mention 
is  made  of  Isaiah  33:20,  21:  "Look  upon 
Zion,  the  city  of  our  solemnities ;  thine  eyes 
shall  see  Jerusalem  a  quiet  habitation,  a  taber- 
nacle that  shall  not  be  taken  down ;  not  one 


of  the  stakes  thereof  shall  ever  be  removed, 
neither  shall  any  of  the  cords  thereof  be 
broken.  But  there  the  glorious  Lord  will  be 
unto  us  a  place  of  broad  rivers  and  streams : 
wherein  shall  go  no  galley  with  oars,  neither 
gallant  ship  pass  thereby." 


945 


The  covenant. 


8s,  7S.  D. 


Hear  what  God  the  Lord  hath  spoken : 

O  my  people,  faint  and  few, 
Comfortless,  afflicted,  broken. 

Fair  abodes  I  build  for  you ; 
Scenes  of  heartfelt  tribulation 

Shall  no  more  perplex  your  ways  j 
You  shall  name  your  walls  "  Salvation," 

And  your  gates  shall  all  be  "  Praise." 

2  There,  like  streams  that  feed  the  garden. 
Pleasures  without  end  shall  flow; 

For  the  Lord,  your  faith  rewarding, 

All  his  bounty  shall  bestow. 
Still  in  undisturbed  possession 

Peace  and  righteousness  shall  reign  ; 
Never  shall  you  feel  oppression. 

Hear  the  voice  of  war  again. 

3  Ve,  no  more  your  suns  descending, 
Waning  moon  no  more  shall  see, 

But,  your  griefs  for  ever  ending, 

Find  eternal  noon  in  me. 
God  shall  rise,  and  shining  o'er  you, 

Change  to  day  the  gloom  of  night ; 
He,  the  Lord,  shall  be  your  Glory, 

God,  your  everlasting  Light. 

This  is  one  of  the  contributions  of  William 
Cowper  to  the  Olney  Hymns,  1779.  It  stands 
as  No.  65  of  Book  I.,  and  is  entitled,  "  The 
Future  Peace  and  Glorj'^of  the  Church."  The 
text  referred  to  is  found  in  Isaiah  60 :  1 5-20. 
Indeed,  the  hymn  is  almost  a  paraphrase  of 
the  promise  in  that  passage.  The  good  Lord 
does  not  lose  patience  with  even  his  weakest 
saints  ;  he  expostulates,  and  renews  covenant 
engagements,  and  presses  his  unfaltering 
love.  Then,  if  murmuring  continue,  he  takes 
the  complaining  believer  at  his  word  and 
gives  to  him  his  own  will.  We  must  be  very 
careful  about  quick  speeches.  When  the 
people  murmured,  the  voice  came  from 
heaven  to  Moses  and  Aaron  :  "  Say  unto 
them.  As  truly  as  I  live,  saith  the  Lord,  as  ye 
have  spoken  in  mine  ears,  so  will  I  do  to  you." 
Our  very  thoughts  are  heard  in  heaven.  God 
says  he  will  do  to  you  "  as  ye  have  spoken." 
Then  be  cautious  ;  and  moreover,  remember 
that  our  ways  of  expression  recoil  upon  us. 
Words  ill-considered,  like  muskets  ill-loaded, 
often  kick  back  with  more  force  than  they 
shoot.  God  says  to  you  precisely  what  you 
say  to  your  children — "  If  you  get  in  the  habit 
of  crying  out, '  I  cannot,  I  cannot,'  you  certain- 
ly never  can." 


946 


The  Church  One. 


8s,  7s.  D. 


Through  the  night  of  doubt  and  sorrow. 
Onward  goes  the  pilgrim  band. 

Singing  songs  of  expectation. 
Marching  to  the  promised  land. 


CHRISTIAN    FELLOWSHIP. 


409 


Clear  before  us,  through  the  darkness, 
Gleams  and  burns  the  guiding  light ; 

Brother  clasps  the  hand  of  brother, 
Stepping  fearless  through  the  night. 

2  One  the  light  of  God's  own  presence, 
O'er  his  ransomed  people  shed. 

Chasing  far  the  gloom  and  terror, 
Brightening  all  the  path  we  tread  : 

One  the  object  of  our  journey, 
One  the  faith  which  never  tires, 

One  the  earnest  looking  forward, 
One  the  hope  our  God  inspires. 

3  One  the  strain  the  lips  of  thousands 
Lift  as  from  the  heart  of  one; 

One  the  conflict,  one  the  peril. 

One  the  march  in  God  begun : 
One  the  gladness  of  rejoicing 

On  the  far  eternal  shore. 
Where  the  one  Almighty  Father 

Reigns  in  love  for  evermore. 

Rev.  Sabine  Baring-Gould  gave  this  fine 
hymn  to  the  EngUsh-speaking  world  in  the 
Peoples  Hymnal,  1867.  Some  alterations 
were  made  or  accepted  in  it  afterwards  in 
Hymns,  Ancient  and  Modern,  1875.  It  is  a 
translation  of  a  piece  written  by  the  Danish 
Professor  of  Languages  and  Literature  at  the 
Academy  of  Soro  in  Zealand,  Denmark,  Bern- 
hardt Severin  Ingemann;  born  1789,  died 
1862. 


Kingsland,  in  1838.  It  was  his  first  and  only 
charge.  Part  of  the  time  he  labored  in  con- 
junction with  Rev.  John  Campbell ;  but  on 
the  death  of  his  associate  he  assumed  the 
entire  responsibility,  until  after  forty-six  years 
of  toiling  in  his  little  corner  of  the  Master's 
vineyard,  he  laid  down  life's  burdens  at  Reed- 
ham,  July  3,  1884.  He  wrote  but  few  hymns, 
and  these  were  mainly  published  in  maga- 
zines. The  piece  quoted  is  said  to  have  been 
first  sung  June  16,  1844,  at  the  jubilee  of  the 
old  Congregational  Chapel,  Kingsland. 


948 


The  army  of  God. 


IDS.  3I. 


947  Christian  Union.  8s,  7s.  D. 

Hail  !  thou  God  of  grace  and  glory  ! 

Who  thy  name  hast  magnified. 
By  redemption's  wondrous  story, 

By  the  Saviour  crucified  ; 
Thanks  to  thee  for  every  blessing. 

Flowing  from  the  Fount  of  love; 
Thanks  for  present  good  unceasing, 

And  for  hopes  of  bliss  above. 

2  Hear  us,  as  thus  bending  lowly. 
Near  thy  bright  and  burning  throne; 

We  invoke  thee,  God  most  holy  ! 

Through  thy  well  beloved  Son  ; 
Send  the  baptism  of  thy  Spirit, 

Shed  the  pentecostal  fire; 
Let  us  all  thy  grace  inherit. 

Waken,  crown  each  good  desire. 

3  Bind  thy  people.  Lord  !  in  union, 
With  the  sevenfold  cord  of  love; 

Breathe  a  spirit  of  communion 

With  the  glorious  hosts  above ; 
Let  thy  work  be  seen  progressing ; 

Bow  each  heart,  ana  bend  each  Icnee; 
Till  the  world,  thy  truth  possessing. 

Celebrates  its  jubilee. 

Inheriting  from  his  mother  the  fire  and  elo- 
quence of  the  Celts,  it  is  no  wonder  that  Rev. 
Thomas  William  Ba.xter  Aveling  won  a  fame 
as  a  pulpit  orator.  He  was  born  at  Castle- 
town, Isle  of  Man,  May  11,  1815,  and  began 
to  study  at  a  private  school  in  Cambridge-  949 
shire,  England.  His  parents  were  by  no 
means  religious  people,  and  he  received' little 
encouragement  at  home  when  he  began  his 
education  for  the  ministry  at  Highbury  Col- 
lege. Finishing  his  four  years'  course,  he  was 
ordained  to  the  Congregational  pastorate  of 


For  all  thy  saints,  who  from  their  labors  rest, 
Who  thee  by  faith  before  the  world  confessed. 
Thy  name,  O  Jesus,  be  for  ever  blest. 

2  Thou  wast  their  rock,  their  Fortress,  and  their 

Might ; 
Thou,  Lord,  their  Captain,  in  the  well-fought  fight ; 
Thou,  in  the  darkness  drear,  their  Light  of  light. 

3  Oh,  may  thy  soldiers,  faithful,  true,  and  bold. 
Fight  as  the  saints  who  nobly  fought  of  old, 
And  win,  with  them,  the  victor's  crown  of  gold. 

4  Oh,  blest  communion,  fellowship  divine ! 
We  feebly  struggle,  they  in  glory  shine; 
Yet  all  are  one  in  thee,  for  all  are  thine. 

5  But,  lo,  there  breaks  a  yet  more  glorious  day : 
The  saints  triumphant  rise  in  bright  array : 
The  King  of  glory  passes  on  his  way. 

6  From  earth's  wide  bounds,  from  ocean's  farthest 
coast. 

Through  gates  of  pearl  streams  in  the  countless  host. 
Singing  to  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost. 

This  piece,  perhaps  the  most  popular  of  all 
Bishop  William  Walsham  How's  composi- 
tions, was  first  published  in  Hymns  for  Saints' 
Days,  and  Other  Hymns,  by  a  Layman  (Earl 
Nelson),  1864.  It  consisted  of  eleven  stanzas, 
from  which  varying  selections  have  been  made 
for  the  later  hymnals.  It  has  been  praised  by 
the  best  critics,  accepted  by  the  highest  au- 
thorities, introduced  in  nearly  all  the  compila- 
tions over  the  world,  and  is  worthily  going  to 
be  one  of  the  standard  hymns  of  Christendom. 
It  voices  the  eagerness  of  the  demand,  which 
every  believing  heart  cherishes,  for  its  own 
part  and  right  in  the  sainthood  of  past  genera- 
lions  in  the  great  Church  of  God.  It  fairly 
takes  our  breath  away  as  we  seem  to  see 
the  matchless  procession  which  the  final  verse 
conjures  up  before  our  imagination— "Through 
gates  of  pearl  streams  in  the  countless  host !" 


Sabbath-  School  Meeting.  8s,  7s.  D. 

Saviour  King,  in  hallowed  union. 

At  thy  sacred  feet  we  bow ; 
Heart  with  heart,  in  blest  communion. 

Join  to  crave  thy  favor  now ! 
Though  celestial  choirs  adore  thee, 

Let  our  prayer  as  incense  rise. 
And  our  praise  be  set  before  thee, 

Sweet  as  evening  sacrifice. 


4IO 


THE  CHURCH   OF  GOD. 


2  Heavenly  Fount,  thy  streams  of  blessing 
Oft  have  cheered  us  on  our  way  ; 

By  thy  power  and  grace  unceasing 

We  continue  to  this  day. 
Raise  we  then  with  glad  emotion 

Thankful  lays ;  and,  while  we  sing. 
Vow  a  pure,  a  full  devotion 

To  thy  work,  O  Saviour  King! 

3  When  we  tell  the  wondrous  story 
Of  thy  .  ich,  exhaustless  love, 

Send  thy  Spirit,  Lord  of  glory. 

On  the  youthful  heart  to  move ! 
Oh,  that  he,  the  ever  living, 

May  descend,  as  fruitful  rain. 
Till  the  wilderness,  reviving. 

Blossoms  as  the  rose  again  ! 

This  poem  appeared  anonymously  in  1861, 
and  was  published  in  a  collection  of  hymns 
for  the  Presbyterian  Sunday-School  use.  Its 
authorship  has  never  been  given,  and  later 
attempts  at  identifying  it  have  been  unsuc- 
cessful. It  has  proved,  however,  very  popu- 
lar, its  spirit  being  simple  but  earnest.  Look 
in  for  a  moment,  in  imagination,  upon  a 
working  and  effective  Sunday-School.  Mark 
one  peculiarity  in  attitude.  The  pupil,  in  the 
intensity  of  his  interest,  has  leaned  forward 
from  the  bench ;  and  the  instructor,  in  the 
absorption  of  his  subject,  has  bent  forward 
from  the  chair,  and  that  circle  of  foreheads 
almost  touch  each  other.  We,  who  are  a 
little  enthusiastic  in  such  matters,  call  that 
characteristic  posture  the  "  Sunday-School 
arch."  You  never  find  it  except  at  the  seats 
of  the  most  intelligent  and  faithful  teachers. 
Remember  that  they  have  studied  that  lesson 
most  carefully,  and  that  their  whole  hearts 
are  in  the  duty  they  are  doing.  Remember 
that  they  have  wrestled  in  earnest  prayer  on 
bended  knees  before  their  Lord  that  very 
morning,  pleading  for  all  needed  assistance. 
Then  bear  in  mind  that  their  pupils  love 
them,  honor  them,  and  now  listen  with  all 
the  inquisitiveness  of  kindled  desire  to  learn 
something  new  and  fresh.  And  the  eyes  fill 
sometimes  with  the  suffusion  of  tender  appeal 
and  affectionate  exhortation.  Ah,  is  not  this 
the  place  in  which  to  educate  a  .soul  for  God .'' 
And  is  there  not  in  this  Sunday-School  arch  a 
fitting  symbol  of  the  divine  promise,  the  very 
bow  of  the  ancient  covenant,  bending  over 
these  young  immortals  with  its  benediction 
of  peace  ?  Keep  a  child  there,  in  that  focus 
of  intense  spiritual  heat  and  light,  aglow  for 
a  term  of  years.  Let  him  grow  up  under  it. 
Let  that  immature  form  become  manlier,  and 
perforce  straighten  somewhat  with  tallness ; 
and  that  other  form  that  has  been  bending 
with  eagerness  begin  to  stoop  with  age ;  and 
still  let  the  patient  process  be  continued  and 
never  relax  until  the  place  is  changed  and  the 
pupil  becomes  a  teacher,  and,  beginning  with 


a  little  group,  makes  and  tends  a  new  arch  of 
his  own  ;  what  will  be  the  result  of  all  this 
pressure  of  training  in  the  truth?  Go  ask 
church  records  what  it  has  been.  Read  the 
names  of  those  who  come  from  the  Sabbath 
classes  into  communion  and  membership. 

950  "  These  little  ones."  8s,  7s.  D. 

Saviour  !  who  thy  flock  art  feeding 
With  the  shepherd's  kindest  care, 

All  the  feeble  gently  leading. 
While  the  lambs  thy  bosom  share — 

2  Now,  these  little  ones  receiving. 
Fold  them  in  thy  gracious  arm  ; 

There,  we  know,  thy  word  believing, 
Only  there,  secure  from  harm. 

3  Never,  from  thy  pasture  roving, 
Let  them  be  the  lion's  prey ; 

Let  thy  tenderness,  so  loving, 
Keep  them  all  life's  dangerous  way  : 

4  Then  within  thy  fold  eternal 
Let  them  find  a  resting-place, 

Feed  in  pastures  ever  vernal. 
Drink  the  rivers  of  thy  grace. 

This  is  one  of  Dr.  Muhlenberg's  most 
widely  known  hymns  and  was  published  first  in 
the  Prayer  Book  Collectioti,  1826.  It  is  filled 
with  tenderness  toward  the  defenceless  lambs 
of  the  flock,  the  little  children,  who  must  ever 
be  especially  dear  to  the  church  for  their  very 
weakness.  It  has  come  to  be  confessed  by 
the  wisest  philosophers  that  the  clearest  evi- 
dence of  a  lofty  civilization  for  any  people  in 
any  age  or  clime  is  found  in  the  provisions 
which  are  made  for  little  children.  Savages 
bind  up  their  infants  with  afflictive  thongs  of 
bark,  as  the  most  expeditious  disposal  to  be 
made  of  them.  Never  till  a  land  has  leisure, 
never  till  a  nation  has  refinement,  never  till 
most  of  the  steps  upward  have  been  taken  in 
the  way  towards  exalted  attainment,  does  there 
come  even  one  look  of  appreciation  or  sym- 
pathy for  these  "  feeble  folk  "  of  society  more 
than  the  merest  necessities  of  existence  or  the 
exigencies  of  convenience  require.  He  who, 
with  kind  heart  and  subtle  ingenuity  of  in- 
vention, sits  down  at  his  desk  to  illuminate  a 
juvenile  volume  with  an  extraordinary  frontis- 
piece, or  who  toils  at  his  bench  to  construct  a 
mechanical  toy  for  a  little  child,  is  in  one 
sense  both  the  product  and  the  type  of  the 
truest  and  the  highest  civilized  humanity. 


951 


Before  the  Administration. 


1  The  mercy  of  the  Lord  is  from  everlasting  to  ever- 

lasting upon  I  them   that  I  {ear  him,  |      And   his 
righteousness  |  unto  |  children's  |  children. 

2  To  such  as  keep  his  |  covenant ;  ||  And  to  those  that 

remember  his  com-  |  mandments  to  |  do —  |  them. 

3  Suffer  little  children  to  come  unto  me,  and  for-  |  bid 

them  I  not:  |  For  of  |  such   -is  the  |  kingdom"  •  of  | 
heaven. 

4  For  the  promise  is  unto  you,  and  |  to  your  |  children  ; 

\  And  to  all  that  are  afar  off,  even  as  many  as  the  | 
Lord  our  |  God  shall  |  call. 


THE   ORDINANCE   OF    BAPTISM. 


411 


After  the  Administration. 

1  Then  will    I    sprinkle  clean  |  water- -up-  |  on  you,  || 

And  I  ye  shall  |  be—  |  clean ; 

2  A   new  heart   also  |  will  I  |  give  you,  ||    And   a    new 

spirit  I  will  I  |  put  with-  |  in  you, 

3  And  I  will  take  away  the  stony  heart  |  out  of-  -your  | 

flesh,  II    And  I  will  |  give-  -you  a  |  heart  of  |  flesh. 

4  I  will  pour  my  Spirit  up-  |  on  thy  |  seed,  |  And  my  | 

blessing- -up-  |  on  thine  |  offspring: 

5  And  thev  shall  spring  up  as  a-  1  mong  the  |  grass,*! 

As  I  willows-  -Dy  the  |  water-  |  courses. 
Gloria  Patri. 

Some  passages  from  the  Word  of  God 
which  were  compiled  for  the  Choir  to  sing  in 
the  administration  of  the  ordinance  of  bap- 
tism. 

952  Genesis  2S:'  ig-22.  ,   CM. 

O  God  of  Bethel,  by  whose  hand 

Thy  people  still  are  fed  ; 
Who  through  this  wearj- pilgrimage 
'  Hast  all  our  fathers  led! 

2  Our  vows,  our  prayers,  we  now  present 
Before  thy  throne  of  grace  ; 

God  of  our  fathers  !  be  the  God 
Of  their  succeeding  race. 

3  Through  each  perplexing  path  of  life 
Our  wandering  footsteps  guide  ; 

Give  us,  each  day,  our  daily  bread. 
And  raiment  fit  provide. 

4  Oh,  spread  thy  covering  wings  around 
Till  all  our  wanderings  cease, 

And  at  our  Father's  loved  abode 
Our  souls  arrive  in  peace. 

5  Such  blessings  from  thy  gracious  hand 
Our  humble  prayers  implore; 

And  thou  shalt  be  our  chosen  God, 
Our  portion  evermore. 

Dr.  Philip  Doddridge  wrote  this  hymn  to  be 
sung  after  a  sermon  on  "  Jacob's  Vow,"  Gen- 
esis 28  :  20-22,  which  he  preached  on  January 
16,  1737.  This  is  the  hymn  which  was  found 
among  the  effects  of  David  Livingstone,  the 
one  which  sustained  his  heart  through  the 
wilderness  journeys  over  Africa,  and  which,  as 
his  favorite,  was  sung  at  his  funeral  beneath 
the  arches  of  Westminster  Abbey,  April  18, 
1874.  It  is  usually  considered  a  family  hymn 
now,  and  is  of  great  service  at  domestic  devo- 
tion. One  of  the  prominent  ministers  of  New 
York  sent  a  circular  letter  to  many  ministers 
and  others  asking  the  particulars  of  their 
conversion.  In  the  answers  as  to  the  human 
instrumentality  which  had  largest  influence  in 
leading  the  soul  to  decision,  the  Christian 
home  has  the  foremost  place.  Rev.  N.  G. 
Cheney  says  :  "  My  mother  had  the  strongest 
power  over  my  heart.  She  died  when  I  was 
a  youth.  But  in  everything  else  that  moved 
me  I  could  feel  that  power  clearly.  Next  to 
home  influence  was  preaching."  Rev.  Dun- 
can McGregor,  who  was  converted  in  a  re- 
vival, reverses  the  order,  and  gives  as  the  hu- 
man  means   of  his   conversion :  "  Preaching 


and  mother's  prayers."  So  Dr.  Cuyler  says  : 
"  Both  pastor  and  mother."  Several  Brook- 
lyn Sunday-School  superintendents,  also, 
when  asked  at  the  gate  of  heaven,  "  What 
brings  you  here  ?"  will  reply  to  the  angel :  "  A 
mother's  tear  and  prayer."  One  of  them 
says  :  "  A  mother's  early  teaching,  prayers, 
and  constant  consistent  life  before  me  had, 
I  think,  most  influence  in  deciding  my  course, 
though  a  faithful  Sunday-School  teacher  and 
pastor  were,  perhaps,  also  used  as  instru- 
ments." Dr.  Francis,  of  Greenpoint,  who 
was  converted  in  a  college  revival,  attributes 
the  largest  credit  for  that  step,  outside  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  to  his  mother's  influence  and  ex- 
ample, which  had  more  to  do  with  moulding 
his  life  than  all  other  instrumentalities.  Very 
beautiful  is  Dr.  J.  G.  Roberts'  reply:  "  I  was 
converted  in  very  early  childhood  through  the 
influence  of  parental  teaching.  My  father 
used  to  instruct  us  in  the  Bible  every  Sunday, 
and  at  the  close  of  one  of  our  lessons  he 
asked  that  those  of  us  who  would  give  our 
hearts  to  Christ  should  come  and  kiss  him. 
That  was  the  time  I  was  converted."  Rev. 
J.  G.  Phipps  says  that  he  became  seriously 
impressed  from  the  age  of  eleven  through 
the  faithfulness  of  parents,  his  father  being  a 
pastor  who  preached  outside  of  the  pulpit  as 
well  as  in  it.  Dr.  Withrow  was  converted  at 
the  age  of  eleven  by  "  a  solemn  scene  at  fam- 
ily worship  one  Sunday  evening."  Dr.  A.  H. 
Plumb,  of  Boston,  attributes  his  conversion 
to  the  same  home-influence,  although  the  im- 
mediate occasion  of  his  tinal  decision  was  the 
"  personal  efforts  of  my  pastor,  added  to  the 
testimony  of  happy  and  consistent  Christians 
talking  about  religion  in  the  store  where  I  was 
clerk  at  a  time  when,  setting  out  in  life,  I  felt 
the  need  of  a  friend."  Dr.  William  M.  Tay- 
lor, of  New  York,  says  :  "  I  cannot  speak  of 
any  precise  date  of  conversion  at  all ;  I  grew 
up  into  the  Church  under  the  training  of  wise 
Christian  parents." 

953  Christ  receiving-  children.  C.  M. 

See  Israel's  gentle  Shepherd  stands. 

With  all-engaging  charms ! 
Hark  I  how  he  calls  the  tender  lambs. 

And  folds  them  in  his  arms! 

2  "  Permit  them  to  approach,"  he  cries, 
"  Nor  scorn  their  humble  name ; 

For  't  was  to  bless  such  souls  as  these 
The  Lord  of  angels  came." 

3  We  bring  them,  Lord,  in  thankful  hands. 
And  yield  them  up  to  thee ; 

Joyful  that  we  ourselves  are  thine — 
Thine  let  our  offspring  be. 

Dr.  Philip  Doddridge   introduced  this  into 
his  Hymtts,  1755,  as  No.  198  :  "  Christ's  con- 


412 


THE  CHURCH   OF   GOD. 


descending  Regard  to  Little  Children,   Mark 
lo:  14. 

954  ^  Christian   Child.  CM. 
Bv  cool  Siloam's  shady  rill 

How  fair  the  lily  grows ! 
How  sweet  the  breath  beneath  the  hill 
Of  Sharon's  dewy  rose  ! 

2  Lo !  such  the  child  whose  early  feet 
The  paths  of  peace  have  trod  ; 

Whose  secret  heart,  with  influence  sweet, 
Is  upward  drawn  to  God. 

3  By  cool  Siloam's  shady  rill 
The  lily  must  decay : 

The  rose  that  blooms  beneath  the  hill 
Must  shortly  fade  away. 

4  And  soon,  too  soon,  the  wintry  hour 
Of  man's  maturer  age 

May  shake  the  soul  with  sorrow's  power 
And  stormy  passion's  rage. 

5  O  thou,  whose  infant  feet  were  found 
Within  thy  Father's  shrine. 

Whose  years,  with  changeless  virtue  crowned, 
Were  all  alike  divine  ! 

6  Dependent  on  thy  bounteous  breath, 
We  seek  thy  grace  alone 

In  childhood,  manhood,  age  and  death. 
To  keep  us  still  thine  own. 

This  familiar  hymn  was  first  published  by 
Bishop  Reginald  Heber  in  the  Christian  Ob- 
server, April,  1812.  The  first  line  was,  "By 
cool  Siloam's  shady  fountain."  Subsequently 
he  re-wrote  the  piece  in  its  present  form,  and 
it  was  put  in  his  posthumous  collection  of 
Hymns,  1827, 

955  Our    Children.  S.  M. 

Great  God,  now  condescend 

To  bless  our  rising  race; 
Soon  may  their  willing  spirits  bend. 

The  subjects  of  thy  grace. 

2  Oh,  what  a  pure  delight 
Their  happiness  to  see : 

Our  warmest  wishes  all  unite. 
To  lead  their  souls  to  thee. 

3  Now  bless,  thou  God  of  love. 
This  ordinance  divine; 

Send  thy  good  Spirit  from  above. 
And  make  these  children  thine. 

The  circumstances  of  John  Fellows'  life 
are  surrounded  with  much  obscurity,  even 
the  time  and  place  of  his  birth  being  un- 
known. He  is  supposed  to  have  been  a 
poor  shoemaker  living  in  Birmingham,  Eng- 
land, a  member  of  the  Baptist  denomination. 
In  the  records  of  that  church,  which  was  for- 
merly in  Cannon  St.,  Birmingham,  the  death 
of  John  Fellows  is  entered  as  having  occurred 
July  30,  1785.  In  view  of  the  fact  that  he 
published  a  number  of  books  both  in  prose 
and  poetry,  it  is  surprising  that  so  little  is 
known  of  his  career.  He  wrote  many  hymns 
on  the  subject  of  Baptism  ;  the  one  given 
here  was  published  with  a  number  of  others 
in  1 773,  and  has  remained  in  general  use.     It 


is  a  prayer  for  the  favor  of  God  upon  the 
young,  that  they  may  be  willing  to  accept  his 
guidance  in  their  daily  life,  and  so  escape  the 
errors  into  which  they  may  so  easily  fall  if 
they  attempt  to  direct  their  course  by  their 
own  wisdom.  The  Bible  contains  many  in- 
stances of  the  grievous  mistakes  which  even 
well-meaning  men  may  commit,  if  they  yield 
to  an  influence  from  without  which  is  not 
wise  and  pure.  It  is  instinctive  with  us  all 
to  believe  that  Jacob  was  more  sinned 
against  than  sinning.  To  much  of  his  early 
wrong-doing  he  was  put  up.  A  character, 
never  over-strong  at  the  best,  was  overborne 
by  one  which  was  stronger.  There  is  an  an- 
cient proverb  which  has  in  it  much  wisdom  ; 
"  A  child  may  have  more  of  his  mother  than 
her  blessing."  Jacob  had  Isaac's  blessing 
and  enjoyed  Rebekah's  advice ;  and  «  was 
just  this  last  which  hurt  him,  and  put  him  to 
bed  on  the  stones  at  Bethel.  Her  injudi- 
cious partiality  brought  upon  him  his  temp- 
tation. In  the  domestic  drama  of  deceit 
she  played  Jezebel  to  his  Ahab.  She  knew 
the  exact  cast  to  make.  Her  part  became 
her,  and  showed  her  unusual  gifts  in  that  di- 
rection. But  she  had  her  hands  full  to  get 
this  son  of  hers  through  his  drill  any  way. 
And  that  midnight  departure  from  his  home 
was  what  it  came  to. 

956  '^  Suffer  them  to  come.'"  S.  M. 

The  Saviour  kindly  calls 

Our  children  to  his  breast ; 
He  folds  them  in  his  gracious  arms. 

Himself  declares  them  blest. 

2  "  Let  them  approach,"  he  cries, 
"  Nor  scorn  their  humble  claim  ; 

The  heirs  of  heaven  are  such  as  these, 
For  such  as  these  I  came." 

3  With  joy  we  bring  them,  Lord, 
Devoting  them  to  thee, 

Imploring,  that,  as  we  are  thine, 
Thine  may  our"offspring  be. 

This  hymn,  by  Bishop  Onderdonk,  was  con- 
tributed to  the  Prayer  Book  Collection,  1826. 
It  is  an  adaptation  from  a  poem  by  Rev.  Dr. 
Doddridge,  and  is  entitled  "  Christ  Accepting 
Children."  There  is  an  expression  in  the  last 
verse  which  it  may  be  well  for  us  to  ponder  : 
"  As  we  are  thine,  thine  may  our  offspring 
be."  When  we  stop  to  think  of  it,  are  we 
sure  that  we  ourselves  are  fit  models  for  others 
to  follow  ?  There  is  a  verse  in  Colossians 
which  says, "  Children,  obey  your  parents  in 
all  things :  for  this  is  well  pleasing  unto  the 
Lord."  Most  of  us  know  what  that  means, 
and  first  and  last  have  had  it  somewhat  ex- 
tensively explained  to  us.  But  do  we  now 
dwell  as  much  on  this :     "  Fathers,  provoke 


THE   ORDINANCE   OF    BAPTISM. 


413 


not  your  children  to  anger,  lest  they  be  dis- 
couraged." I  distinctly  remember  that,  as  a 
child,  I  thought  this  one  of  the  wisest  texts  in 
the  Bible,  and  used  to  get  a  good  deal  of  com- 
fort out  of  it  in  seasons  of  home  depres- 
sion. A  child  has  the  keenest  sort  of  sense 
of  injustice.  Generally  a  decent  boy  means 
well,  if  we  can  only  get  at  what  he  means. 
He  wants  a  chance  to  explain.  More  real 
wrong  has  been  done  to  after  life  than  in  any 
other  way  by  hasty  and  impetuous  demands 
for  unquestioning  silence,  when  a  child  has 
only  been  trying  to  make  his  righteousness 
appear.  The  saddest  of  all  my  human  ex- 
periences, I  do  here  soberly  assert,  have  been 
when  I  was  unable  to  secure  a  fair  showing, 
and  got  "  discouraged." 

^57  "  This  child  we  dedicate."  L.  M. 

This  child  we  dedicate  to  thee, 

O  God  of  grace  and  purity  ! 

Shield  it  from  sin  and  threatening  wrong, 

And  let  thy  love  its  life  prolong. 

2  Oh,  may  thy  Spirit  gently  draw 
Its  willing  soul  to  keep  thy  law  ; 
May  virtue,  piety,  and  truth 
Dawn  even  with  its  dawning  youth. 

3  We  too,  before  thy  gracious  sight, 
Once  shared  the  blest  baptismal  rite, 
And  would  renew  its  solemn  vow 

With  love,  and  thanks,  and  praises,  now. 

4  Grant  that,  with  true  and  faithful  heart, 
We  still  may  act  the  Christian's  part, 
Cheered  by  each  promise  thou  hast  given. 
And  laboring  for  the  prize  in  heaven. 

The  information  in  regard  to  this  hymn 
comes  to  us  in  fragments.  Professor  F.  M. 
Bird  contributes  a  date,  1823,  while  Putnam's 
Singers  and  Songs  of  the  Liberal  Faith,  1875, 
speaks  of  it  as  a  translation  from  the  German. 
No  poem  which  corresponds  to  it,  however, 
has  been  traced,  and  it  seems  fair  to  regard  it 
as  the  original  work  of  Rev.  Dr.  Samuel  Gil- 
man,  a  Unitarian  clergyman  who  was  born 
at  Gloucester,  Mass.,  February  16,  1791.  He 
graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1811,  and 
eight  years  afterward  became  the  pastor  of 
a  Unitarian  church  at  Charleston,  S.  C. ;  re- 
maining in  this  charge  until  his  death,  which 
occurred  at  Kingston,  Mass.,  February  9,  1858. 
The  hymn  is  appropriate  for  baptismal  occa- 
sions, and  expresses  the  desire  of  the  parent 
that  the  child  may  grow  in  grace  as  it  does  in 
years.  If  there  be  any  truth  in  the  line  "  The 
child  is  father  of  the  man,"  it  is  manifest 
most  plainly  in  religious  life.  The  young  be- 
liever perpetuates  himself  in  the  old.  Mau- 
rice, son  of  William  the  Silent,  at  the  age  of 
seventeen,  took  for  his  device  a  fallen  oak, 
with  a  young  sapling  springing  from  its  root ; 
to  this  he  ga\'e  the  motto,  Tandevt  Jit  sur cu- 


ius arbor,  "  The  sapling  will  by  and  by  be- 
come a  tree."  It  seems  very  trite  to  write  all 
that  out  soberly ;  but  really  it  is  a  thing  most 
unfortunately  forgotten. 

953  "  They  are  thine."  L.  M. 

Dear  Saviour,  if  these  lambs  should  str&y 
From  thy  secure  enclosure's  bound. 

And,  lured  by  worldly  joys  away. 
Among  the  thoughtless  crowd  be  found — 

2  Remember  still  that  they  are  thine, 
That  thy  dear  sacred  name  they  bear; 

Think  that  the  seal  of  love  divine, 
The  sign  of  covenant  grace  they  wear. 

3  In  all  their  erring,  sinful  years. 
Oh,  let  them  ne'er  forgotten  be; 

Remember  all  the  prayers  and  tears 
Which  made  them  consecrate  to  thee. 

4  And  when  these  lips  no  more  can  pray, 
These  eyes  can  weep  for  them  no  more. 

Turn  thou  their  feet  from  folly's  way ; 
The  wanderers  to  thy  fold  restore. 

This  "  Prayer  on  behalf  of  Children,"  as  it 
is  entitled,  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  and 
touching  of  the  poems  written  by  Mrs.  Abby 
Bradley  Hyde.  It  was  first  published  in 
Nettleton's  Village  Hymns,  1824,  and  has 
become  a  general  favorite  on  account  of  a 
certain  pathos  and  tenderness  of  sentiment  it 
possesses.  Its  closing  stanzas  remind  many 
of  us  of  the  loving  mothers  who  have  watched 
over  the  lambs  of  the  flock  and  followed  their 
steps  with  fervent  prayers.  One  of  these  faith- 
ful guardians,  now  gone  to  her  rest,  used  to 
take  her  children  with  her  into  her  chamber, 
whenever  an  hour  from  the  busy  day  could 
be  found.  There  she  would  read  a  Bible- 
story  with  them  or  to  them ;  sometimes  about 
Samuel,  and  David,  and  Joseph ;  but  more 
often  about  Jesus,  and  Mary,  and  Lydia,  and 
Timothy.  Then  she  would  question,  and  con- 
verse, and  explain  till  the  mind  had  caught 
the  truth  it  needed  and  the  conscience  had 
felt  it.  She  kneeled  then  by  the  chair,  and 
the  child  knelt  likewise.  Sometimes  she  prayed 
for  him,  oftener  with  him.  He  was  taught  to 
repeat,  as  his  own  request  to  an  unseen  God, 
the  petitions,  short  and  simple,  she  uttered. 
And  so  years  passed  on,  and  there  is  no  for- 
getting, even  now,  the  power  of  those  seasons. 
She  respected  her  engagement  with  her  Sa- 
viour. She  talked  of  it,  and  urged  it,  and  lived 
in  it,  so  firmly,  that  her  words  were  carved  in 
the  slab  over  her  grave,  "  My  covenant-keep- 
ing God." 


959  The  Rock  of  Ages. 

Rock  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me  ! 

Let  me  hide  myself  in  thee ; 

Let  the  water  and  the  blood, 

From  thy  wounded  side  thai  flowed, 

Be  of  sin  the  perfect  cure  ; 

Save  me,  Lord  !  and  make  me  pure. 


7S.  61. 


414 


THE   CHURCH    OF   GOD. 


2  Should  my  tears  for  ever  flow, 
Should  my  zeal  no  languor  know, 
This  for  sin  could  not  atone, 
Thou  must  save  and  thou  alone : 
In  my  hand  no  price  I  bring; 
Simply  to  thy  cross  I  cling. 

3  While  I  draw  this  fleeting  breath, 
When  mine  eyelids  close  in  death. 
When  I  rise  to  worlds  unknown, 
And  behold  thee  on  thy  throne. 
Rock  of  ages,  cleft  for  me ! 

Let  me  hide  myself  in  thee. 

A  hymn,  which  the  great  prime-minister  of 
England,  W.  E.  Gladstone,  would  pause  long 
enough  to  put  into  beautiful  Latin,  and  which 
the  English-speaking  world  now  agrees  to 
pronounce  the  supreme  hymn  of  the  language, 
only  needs  to  be  sung  :  the  day  of  annotations 
upon  it  has  passed.  It  first  appeared  in  the 
English  Gospel  Magazine  for  October,  1775,  in 
an  article  entitled  "  Life  a  Journey."  A  familiar 
signature  that  was  known  by  all.  Minimus, 
showed  the  author  to  be  Rev.  Augustus  Mon- 
tague Toplady.  Next  year,  March,  1776,  the 
piece  was  enlarged,  altered  at  points,  and  re- 
printed. In  181 5  Thomas  Cotterill  changed 
many  of  the  stanzas,  compacting  the  lines, 
and  so  produced  a  lyric  of  three  verses  in- 
stead of  the  original  four.  This  one  now  be- 
fore us  is  Cotterill's  form ;  it  has  really  dis- 
placed the  original  composition  of  the  previ- 
ous century ;  it  is  smoother,  shorter,  and  more 
musical,  as  well  as  less  rugged  in  theology. 

960  "  Manifest  thyself ."  7s.  61 

Son  of  God  !  to  thee  I  cr>- : 
By  rhe  holy  mysterv- 
Of  thy  dwelling  here  on  earth. 
By  thy  pure  and  holy  birth. 
Lord,  thy  presence  let  me  see, 
Manifest  thyself  to  me. 

2  Lamb  of  God  !  to  thee  I  cry : 
By  thy  bitter  agony, 

By  thy  pangs  to  us  unknown. 
By  thy  spirit's  parting  groan. 
Lord,  thy  presence  let  me  see. 
Manifest  thyself  to  me. 

3  Prince  of  Life !  to  thee  I  cry : 
By  thy  glorious  majesty, 

By  thy  triumph  o'er  the  grave. 
Meek  to  suffer,  strong  to  save. 
Lord,  thy  presence  let  me  see. 
Manifest  thyself  to  me. 

4  Lord  of  glor>-,  God  most  high, 
Man  exalted  to  the  sky  ! 

With  thy  love  my  bosom  fill. 
Prompt  me  to  perform  thy  will ; 
Then  thy  glory  I  shall  see. 
Thou  wilt  Dring  me  home  to  thee. 

Written  by  Richard  Mant,  D.  D.,  Bishop 
of  Down  and  Connor  in  Ireland.  It  used  to 
begin  with  the  line,  "  Saviour,  who  exalted 
high,"  and  may  be  found  in  his  Holydays  of 
the  Church  ;  or.  Scripture  Narratives  of  our 
Blessed  Lara's   Life    and    Ministry,    1828. 


The  reference  is  to  the  conversation  between 
Jesus  and  his  disciples  as  recorded  in  John 
14 :  22.  But  there  is  here  in  the  hymn  a 
measure  of  wrestling  desire,  as  if  one  were 
under  the  pressure  of  pain,  and  could  not  see 
his  way.  Such  experiences  are  common  to 
the  best  of  believers.  We  think  we  ought  to 
be  made  to  understand  the  mysteries  of  life  ; 
God  ought  to  explain  himself  more.  But  the 
truth  is,  we  could  not  comprehend  the  divine 
Being  or  his  character  or  his  providence. 
Our  capacities  are  not  sufficient ;  God  is  will- 
ing but  we  are  not  able.  In  one  of  the  Conti- 
nental galleries  is  an  exquisite  painting  by 
Murillo,  entitled,  "  The  Vision  of  Saint  Au- 
gustine." It  represents  a  dream  of  this  great 
father  of  the  church,  narrated  by  himself. 
He  tells  us  that  while  busied  in  writing  his 
discourse  upon  the  Trinity,  he  wandered  along 
the  seashore  wrapped  in  meditation.  Sud- 
denly he  beheld  a  child,  who,  having  dug  a 
hole  in  the  sand,  appeared  to  be  bringing 
water  from  the  sea  to  fill  it.  Augustine  in- 
quired what  was  the  object  of  his  task  }  He 
replied  that  he  intended  to  empty  into  this 
cavity  all  the  waters  of  the  great  deep.  Of 
course  the  philosopher  exclaimed,  "  Impossi- 
ble !"  But  the  boy  answered, "  Not  more  im- 
possible, surely,  than  for  thee,  O  Augustine, 
to  explain  the  mystery  on  which  thou  art 
meditating !"  There  is  a  theme  for  any 
chastened  and  thoughtful  imagination !  See 
that  tall  figure  in  priestly  robes,  on  the  bor- 
der of  the  sea,  looking  pitifully  down  upon 
the  Divine  Child — the  infant  Christ — holding 
in  his  slender  hand  his  scoop  of  shell,  his 
ladle,  his  small  bowl  of  water,  while  he  looks 
up  so  wise  with  the  majesty  of  a  sweet  sug- 
gestion of  rebuke  in  his  gentle  face  ! 

961  "  Till  he  come."  "s,  6s. 

"Till  He  come:"  oh,  let  the  words 
Linger  on  the  trembling  chords ; 
Let  the  little  while  between 
In  their  golden  light  be  seen ; 
Let  us  think  how  heaven  and  home 
Lie  beyond  that — "Till  he  come." 

2  When  the  weary  ones  we  love 
Enter  on  their  rest  above, 
Seems  the  earth  so  poor  and  vast. 

All  our  life  joy  overcast  ?  t 

Hush,  be  every  murmur  dumb  ; 
It  is  only—"  Till  he  come." 

3  See,  the  feast  of  love  is  spread, 
Drink  the  wine,  and  break  the  bread  ; 
Sweet  memorials,  till  the  Lord 

Call  us  round  his  heavenly  board  ; 
Some  from  earth,  from  glorj-  some, 
Severed  only—"  Till  he  come." 

Another  of  the  hymns  of  Rev.  Edward 
Henry  Bickersteth,  D.D.,and  characterized  by 
his  peculiar  views  as  a  pronounced  premillen- 
narian  of  the  school  to  which  Mr.  Spurgeon, 


THE  LORDS   SUPPER. 


415 


Dr.  Bonar,  Dr.  MacLaren,  Mr.  Moody,  with 
most  of  the  modern  evangelists,  have  always 
been  represented  as  prominent  adherents.  It 
is  an  almost  literal  paraphrase  of  the  words 
found  in  the  story  of  the  first  Lord's  Supper  : 
"  For  as  often  as  ye  eat  this  bread,  and  drink 
this  cup,  ye  do  show  the  Lord's  death  till  he 
come."  The  piece  was  written  in  1861,  and 
first  printed  in  his  work,  'The  Blessed  Dead, 
1862.  There  are  four  six-line  stanzas  to  it 
altogether,  and  it  has  the  text  affixed  to  it  for 
its  proper  reference,  L  Corinthians  11:  26. 

962  "  whwA  me.  Saviour."  7s.  61. 

Rock  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me ! 

Let  me  hide  myself  in  thee  ; 

Let  the  water  and  the  blood, 

From  thy  wounded  side  that  flowed, 

Be  of  sin  the  double  cure : 

Cleanse  me,  from  its  guilt  and  power. 

2  Not  the  labor  of  my  hands 
Can  fulfill  the  law's  demands  ; 
Could  my  zeal  no  respite  know, 
Could  my  tears  for  ever  flow, 
All  for  sin  could  not  atone  ; 
Thou  must  save,  and  thou  alone. 

3  Nothing  in  my  hand  I  bring, 
Simply  to  thy  cross  I  cling  ; 
Naked,  come  to  thee  for  dress. 
Helpless,  look  to  thee  for  grace; 
Vile,  1  to  the  fountain  fly, 
Wash  me,  Saviour,  or  I  die ! 

4  While  I  draw  this  fleeting  breath, 
When  my  eyelids  close  in  death, 
When  I  soar  to  worlds  unknown. 
See  thee  on  thy  judgment  throne. 
Rock  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me ! 

Let  me  hide  myself  in  thee. 

The  original  hymn,  very  nearly  as  Rev. 
Augustus  Montague  Toplady  wrote  it.  A 
few  changes  were  absolutely  necessary.  We 
could  manage  to  say,  "  When  I  soar  through 
tracts  unknown,"  but  it  would  be  impossible 
to  sing,  "  When  my  eye-strings  break  in 
death  "  without  a  demurrer.  But  this  form 
of  the  poem  is  much  stronger  than  the  other. 
The  doctrinal  belief  of  the  author  is  disclosed 
in  the  paragraph  which  stands  just  before  his 
song  :  "  We  can  only  admire  and  bless  the 
Father  for  electing  us  in  Christ  and  for  lay- 
ing on  him  the  iniquities  of  us  all — the  Son, 
for  taking  our  nature  and  our  debts  upon 
himself,  and  for  that  complete  righteousness 
and  sacrifice,  whereby  he  redeemed  his  mys- 
tical Israel  from  all  their  sins — and  the  co- 
equal Spirit,  for  causing  us  (in  conversion) 
to  feel  our  need  of  Christ,  for  inspiring  us 
with  faith  to  embrace  him,  for  visiting  us  with 
his  sweet  consolations,  by  shedding  abroad 
his  love  in  our  hearts,  for  sealing  us  to  the 
day  of  Christ,  and  for  making  us  to  walk  in 
the  path  of  his  commandments." 

In  this  faith  the  author  of  our  best  hymn 
died ;   he  was   a  strong   Calvinist,  and  the 


hymn  shows  his  bias.  At  the  last  he  seems 
to  have  found  how  good  it  was  to  be  saved 
by  sovereign  grace.  His  biographer  says 
that  during  his  final  illness  the  poet  seemed 
to  lie  in  the  vestibule  of  glory.  To  a  friend's 
inquiry  he  answered  with  a  sparkling  eye  : 
"  Oh.  my  dear  sir  I  cannot  tell  the  comforts  I 
feel  in  my  soul — they  are  past  expression. 
The  consolations  of  God  are  so  abundant 
that  he  leaves  me  nothing  to  pray  for.  My 
prayers  are  all  converted  into  praise.  I  en- 
joy a  heaven  already  within  my  soul."  And 
within  an  hour  of  dying  he  called  his  friends 
and  asked  if  they  could  give  him  up :  and 
when  they  replied  in  the  affirmative,  tears  of 
joy  ran  down  his  cheeks  as  he  added,  "  Oh, 
■  what  a  blessing  that  you  are  made  willing  to 
give  me  over  to  the  hands  of  my  dear  Re- 
deemer and  part  with  me ;  for  no  mortal 
can  live  after  having  seen  the  glories  which 
God  has  manifested  to  my  soul !" 

963  "  Take  my  Heart."  7s.  61. 

Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost, 
One  in  Three  and  Three  in  One, 

As  by  the  celestial  host, 
Let  thy  will  on  earth  be  done: 

Praise  by  all  to  thee  be  given. 

Glorious  Lord  of  earth  and  heaven  ! 

2  Vilest  of  the  fallen  race, 
Lo,  I  answer  to  thy  call : 

Meanest  vessel  of  thy  grace, 
Grace  divinely  free  for  all ; 
Lo,  I  come  to  do  thy  will, 
All  thy  counsel  to  fulfill. 

3  If  so  poor  a  worm  as  I 
May  to  thy  great  glory  live. 

All  my  actions  sanctify, 

All  my  words  and  thoughts  receive ; 
Claim  me  for  thy  service,  claim 
All  I  have  and  all  I  am. 

4  Take  my  soul  and  body's  powers. 
Take  my  memory,  mind  and  will, 

All  my  goods  and  all  my  hours, 

All  I  know  and  all  I  feel, 
All  I  think,  or  speak,  or  do  ; 
Take  my  heart,  but  make  it  new. 

Rev.  Charles  Wesley  has  furnished  us  this 
piece  from  his  Hymns  on  the  Lord's  Supper, 
1745.  He  entitled  it  "  Entire  Consecration." 
It  might  well  have  taken  for  its  text  Romans 
12:1:  "I  beseech  you  therefore,  brethren,  by 
the  mercies  of  God,  that  ye  present  your 
bodies  a  living  sacrifice,  holy,  acceptable  unto 
God,  which  is  your  reasonable  service."  What 
is  a  livmg  sacrifice?  One  who  considers 
himself  a  victim  any  moment,  and  yet  the 
knife  of  the  priest  does  not  fall  on  his  neck. 
The  Christian  is  not  offered  by  fire,  but  by 
zeal.  He  stands  pledged  to  any  extreme. 
His  picture  is  found  in  the  ox  engraved  upon 
the  ancient  seal,  standing  between  an  altar 
and  a  plough  ;  the  motto  underneath  tells  the 
story  in  simple  but  sincere  words,  "  Ready  for 


4i6 


THE  CHURCH   OF  GOD. 


either."  I  will  go  to  the  flame  or  the  furrow. 
My  Saviour  shall  call,  and  I  will  answer : 
Here  am  I.  If  I  live,  I  live  to  che  Lord ;  if  I 
die,  I  die  unto  the  Lord ;  whether  living  or 
dying,  therefore,  I  am  the  Lord's.  1  am  a 
living  sacrifice. 

964  "  His  Banner."  8s,  7s. 

Jesus  spreads  his  banner  o'er  us, 

Cheers  our  famished  souls  with  food  ; 

He  the  banquet  spreads  before  us 
Of  his  mystic  flesh  and  blood. 

2  Precious  banquet ;  bread  of  heaven ; 
Wine  of  gladness,  flowing  free  : 

May  we  taste  it,  kindly  given 
In  remembrance,  Lord,  of  thee ! 

3  In  thy  trial  and  rejection  ; 

In  thy  sufferings  on  the  tree  ; 
In  thy  glorious  resurrection, 
May  we,  Lord,  remember  thee ! 

Rev.  Roswell  Park,  D.  D.,  was  born 
at  Lebanon,  Conn.,  October  i,  1807,  and 
entered  Hamilton  College,  which  he  left 
on  receiving  an  appointment  as  cadet  at 
West  Point.  He  graduated  there  in  1831, 
and  in  the  same  year  passed  the  final  examina- 
tions at  Union  College.  He  received  his 
commission  as  lieutenant  of  engineers,  and 
was  employed  on  the  fortifications  at  New- 
port and  Boston  until  he  resigned  his  office 
in  1836.  The  next  change  in  his  varied  life 
was  from  the  army  to  a  professorship  in  the 
University  of  Pennsylvania,  where  he  taught 
chemistry  and  natural  history.  He  held  this 
position  until  1842,  resigning  it  in  order  to  fit 
himself  for  the  ministry  of  the  Episcopal 
Church.  He  was  ordained  in  1 843,  and  nine 
years  later  was  appointed  President  of  Racine 
College,  Wisconsin,  an  office  which  he  held 
until  1859,  when  he  became  Chancellor.  In 
1863  he  removed  to  Chicago,  where  he  found- 
ed a  literary  and  scientific  school  called  Im- 
manuel  Hall,  of  which  he  was  rector  until  his 
death,  July  16,  1869.  Dr.  Park  was  the  author 
of  several  books  on  various  subjects,  history, 
travels,  and  poems  being  included  among 
them.  He  is  known  in  hymnology  as  the 
author  of  the  piece  quoted  here,  which  was 
published  in  his  Poetns  in  1836,  and  is  in 
general  use  on  both  sides  of  the  ocean. 

965  "/«  remembrance.'"  8s,  7s. 
While  in  sweet  communion  feeding 

On  this  earthly  bread  and  wine. 

Saviour,  may  we  see  thee  bleeding 

On  the  cross,  to  make  us  thine. 

2  Though  unseen,  now  be  thou  near  us. 
With  the  still  small  voice  of  love  ; 

Whispering  words  of  peace  to  cheer  us— 
Every  doubt  and  fear  remove. 

3  Bring  before  us  all  the  stor>- 
Of  thy  life,  and  death  of  woe; 

And,  with  hopes  of  endless  glory. 
Wean  our  hearts  from  all  below. 


Sir  Edward  Denny  gave  this  to  the  public 
in  his  Selection  of  Hymns,  1839.  It  bears  the 
simple  title,  "  Holy  Communion."  After- 
wards, when  he  issued  it  in  his  Miscellaneous 
Hymns,  1848-70,  he  entitled  it,  "  On  the 
Lord's  Supper.  I.  Corinthians  11:26,  and 
Canticles  i  :  12." 

966  "  Follow  me."  8s,  7s. 
Jesus  calls  us,  o'er  the  tumult 

Of  our  life's  wild,  restless  sea  ; 
Day  by  day  his  sweet  voice  soundeth, 
Saying,  Christian,  follow  me! 

2  Jesus  calls  us — from  the  worship 
Of  the  vain  world's  golden  store; 

From  each  idol  that  would  keep  us — 
Saying,  Christian,  love  me  more! 

3  In  our  joys  and  in  our  sorrows. 
Days  of  toil  and  hours  of  ease. 

Still  he  calls,  in  cares  and  pleasures — 
Christian,  love  me  more  than  these! 

4  Jesus  calls  us  !  by  thy  mercies. 
Saviour,  may  we  hear  thy  call ; 

Give  our  hearts  to  thy  obedience. 
Serve  and  love  thee  best  of  all ! 

If  any  one  wishes  to  test  the  baleful  power 
of  a  hymn-tinker,  let  him  tr}'  his  taste  upon  the 
change  made  of  one  of  the  lines  in  this  poem 
by  the  editor  of  the  Anglican  Hymtt-Book, 
1868:  "Jesus  calls  us,  mid  the  tumult,"  as 
contrasted  with  "  Jesus  calls  us,  o'er  the  tu- 
mult." The  one  is  poetry,  the  other  far  below 
it,  and  no  gain  anyway.  The  hymn  was  writ- 
ten by  Mrs.  Cecil  Frances  Alexander,  wife  of 
the  Bishop  of  Derry  in  Ireland,  and  contrib- 
uted to  Church  Hymns,  1852.  The  allusion 
is  to  the  picturesque  scenes  in  the  gospel  nar- 
ratives in  which  our  Lord  is  presented  as  call- 
ing his  disciples,  one  after  another,  and  we 
seem  to  hear  the  "  sweet  voice  "  sounding 
across  the  waters  of  the  Galilean  Sea. 

967  "  Take  my  heart."  8s,  7s. 

Take  my  heart,  O  Father !  take  it ; 

Make  and  keep  it  all  thine  own  ; 
Let  thy  Spirit  melt  and  break  it — 

This  proud  heart  of  sin  and  stone. 

2  Father,  make  me  pure  and  lowly, 
Fond  of  peace  and  far  from  strife; 

Turning  from  the  paths  unholy 
Of  this  vain  and  sinful  life. 

3  Ever  let  thy  grace  surround  me. 
Strengthen  me  with  power  divine. 

Till  thy  cords  of  love  have  bound  me: 
Make  me  to  be  wholly  thine. 

4  May  the  blood  of  Jesus  heal  me, 
And  my  sins  be  all  forgiven  ; 

Holy  Spirit,  take  and  seal  me. 
Guide  me  in  the  path  to  heaven. 

This  poem  was  published  anonymously  in 
a  Unitarian  collection,  Hytnns  for  the  Sanc- 
tuary, 1849.  Although  it  has  been  widely 
used,  there  is  no  information  to  be  had  con- 
cerning its  authorship.     The  poem  is  an  en- 


THE   LORD'S   SUPPER. 


417 


treaty  for  the  grace  of  the  Holy  Spirit  to  at- 
tract and  then  transform  the  erring  one.  No 
human  instrumentality  alone  can  convert  a 
soul ;  but  any  amount  of  intelligent  help  avails 
somewhat  to  render  a  soul  readier  for  con- 
version. Each  person's  share  in  the  moment- 
ous undertaking  will  have  to  be  estimated 
according  to  the  measure  of  persistent  fidelity 
with  which  he  has  presented  and  enforced 
evangelical  doctrine  and  spiritual  truth.  All 
sincere  believers  are  declared  to  have  been 
"  born  again,  not  of  corruptible,  but  of  incor- 
ruptible seed,  which  is  the  word  of  God." 
Hence,  men's  part  in  the  regeneration  of  men 
appears  to  be  confined  to  the  faithful  and  clear 
offers  of  the  gospel  and  the  affectionate  ap- 
peal to  consience. 

But  let  no  mistake  be  made  here ;  it  is  not 
because  of  promising  usefulness  and  loveli- 
ness in  human  character  that  men  are  chosen  ; 
it  is  in  order  to  all  that.  The  choice  of  di- 
vine sovereignty  turns  upon  knowledge,  not 
upon  foreknowledge.  Christ's  love  seeks  its 
subjects,  not  for  what  they  may  become,  but 
for  what  they  are.  Grace  is  not  conditioned 
upon  graces — grace  is  in  order  to  graces. 
The  gifts  of  the  Holy  Spirit  are  free,  and  are 
not  grounded  on  any  prophetic  perception  of 
a  soul's  future  excellence.  Our  Lord  wel- 
comed Simon  Peter  that  day  just  as  Andrew 
brought  him.  He  took  an  undoubted  risk  in 
the  man  upon  his  own  sovereign  responsibil- 
ity. And  everybody  might  learn  from  this, 
beyond  any  question  or  cavil  whatsoever,  that 
Christians  are  commissioned  to  bring  to 
Jesus  all  men  just  as  they  are  :  and  that  we 
all  are  to  go  to  him  exactly  as  we  are.  No- 
body needs  to  try  to  render  himself  any  bet- 
ter before  he  starts.  Nobody  needs  to  shrink 
and  wait  because  he  has  a  fear  he  may  prove 
fickle,  and  so  do  damage  by  a  failure.  If 
the  good  Lord  will  take  him,  and  take  the 
responsibility  of  him  as  he  did  of  Simon 
Peter,  the  least  he  can  do  is  to  go.  The 
prayer  of  a  penitent  sinner  is  not  this :  "I 
come  to  thee,  because  I  am  going  to  be  good, 
shining  and  useful ;"  but  "  I  come  to  thee, 
because  I  am  neither  good  nor  useful ;  I  come 
— just  as  1  am  !" 


968  Glorying  in  the  Cross. 

In  the  cross  of  Christ  I  glor>', 
Towering  o'er  the  wrecks  of  time  ; 

All  the  light  of  sacred  story- 
Gathers  round  its  head  sublime. 

3  When  the  woes  of  life  o'ertake  me, 
Hopes  deceive,  and  fears  annoy. 

Never  shall  the  cross  forsake  me : 
Lo  !  it  glows  with  peace  and  joy. 

27 


8s,  7s. 


3  When  the  sun  of  bliss  is  beaming 
Light  and  love  upon  my  way, 

From  the  cross  the  radiance,  streaming, 
Adds  more  luster  to  the  day. 

4  Bane  and  blessing,  pain  and  pleasure, 
By  the  cross  are  sanctified  ; 

Peace  is  there,  that  knows  no  measure, 
Joys  that  through  all  time  abide. 

5  In  the  cross  of  Christ  I  glorj-, 
Towering  o'er  the  wrecks  of  time  ; 

All  the  light  of  sacred  story 
Gathers  round  its  head  sublime. 

This  well-known  poem  by  Sir  John  Bow- 
ring  was  published  mhxs  Hymns,  1825,  and 
has  since  been  included  in  numerous  collec- 
tions, both  in  Great  Britain  and  America. 
Its  glowing  words  have  been  like  a  trumpet 
call  to  many  a  Christian  whose  faith  has  been 
weakened  by  the  cares  and  trials  of  the 
world.  He  suddenly  feels  that  with  Christ 
strengthening  him  he  can  do  all  things. 

An  army  officer  in  the  civil  war  rode  a 
horse  which  knew  as  well  as  a  human  being 
when  the  battle  was  impending.  The  ap- 
proach of  the  conflict  always  gave  the  beast 
the  keenest  terror ;  he  trembled  in  every 
nerve,  and  was  apparently  unable  to  stir. 
But  when  the  battle  was  once  begun,  and  he 
was  urged  forward  into  the  thick  of  the  fight, 
all  trembling  and  hesitancy  left  him ;  his  nos- 
trils were  proudly  raised  in  air,  and  ever>' 
motion  was  swift  and  fearless.  So  it  is  with 
some  men  in  the  Christian  life.  They  trem- 
ble  at  the  thought  of  entering  the  church  ; 
they  feel  themselves  utterly  unworthy  to  sit 
at  the  table  of  the  Lord  ;  their  first  words  in 
the  prayer-meeting  are  feeble  and  faltering. 
But  the  believer  who  is  most  timid  at  the 
outset  often  becomes  the  most  fearless  and 
the  most  useful  of  all.  That  very  honesty  of 
purpose  and  delicacy  of  action  which 
harasses  the  would-be  Christian  with  fears 
of  his  unworthiness,  are  transmuted  into  the 
power  which,  with  the  same  feeling  of  per- 
sonal humility,  can  yet  do  all  things  by  the 
strength  of  God. 

969  ••  Till  he  come."  P.M. 

Bv  Christ  redeemed,  in  Christ  restored, 
We  keep  the  memory  adored, 
And  show  the  death  of  our  dear  Lord, 
Until  he  come. 

2  His  body  broken  in  our  stead 
Is  here,  in  this  memorial  bread  ; 
And  so  our  feeble  love  is  fed, 

Until  he  come. 

3  His  fearful  drops  of  agony, 
His  life-blood  shed  for  us  we  see  : 
The  wine  shall  tell  the  mystery. 

Until  he  come. 

4  And  thus  that  dark  betrayal  night, 
With  the  last  advent  we  unite — 
The  shame,  the  glor>-,  by  this  rite, 

Until  he  come. 


4i8 


THE  CHURCH   OF  GOD. 


5  Until  the  trump  of  God  be  heard, 
Until  the  ancient  graves  be  stirred, 
And  with  the  great  commanding  word. 

The  Lord  shall  come. 

6  Oh,  blessed  hope !  with  this  elate. 
Let  not  our  hearts  be  desolate. 

But,  strong  in  faith,  in  patience  wait, 
UntU  he  come! 

This  hymn  was  contributed  to  the  book  en- 
titled Psalms  and  Hymns  for  the  Baptist 
Denomination,  published  in  1858.  The 
piece  itself  is  dated  1857  by  its  author, 
George  Ravvson,  the  "  Leeds  Layman."  It 
makes  an  e.xcellent  communion  meditation, 
having  a  singular  blending  of  present 
thought  in  it  with  that  far-off  reach  of  an- 
ticipation concerning  a  feast  in  the  kingdom 
of  God,  of  which  the  ordinance  is  the  inspired 
symbol.  In  that  strange  book  of  Robert 
Southey,  The  Doctor,  he  relates  that,  when 
Wilkie  was  in  the  Escurial,  looking  at  Ti- 
tian's picture  of  the  Last  Supper  which  hangs 
in  the  refectory  there,  an  old  Jeronimite  said 
to  him  ;  "  I  have  sat  daily  in  the  sight  of  that 
painting  for  now  nearly  threescore  years ; 
during  that  time  my  companions  have 
dropped  off  one  after  another,  all  who  were 
my  seniors,  all  who  were  my  contemporaries, 
and  many  or  most  of  those  who  were  young- 
er than  myself ;  more  than  one  generation 
has  passed  away,  and  yet  there  the  figures  in 
the  picture  have  remained  unchanged.  I  look 
at  them,  till  sometimes  I  think  they  are  the 
realties,  and  we  but  shadows !"  And  sud- 
denly Southey  adds,  as  a  swift  reminiscence 
of  his  own  reflection,  that  he  wishes  he  knew 
who  was  the  author  of  the  tragedy  of  Nero, 
of  which  he  proceeds  to  repeat  the  line : 
"  The  shows  of  things  are  better  than  them- 
selves." From  this  he  flashes  along  with 
other  comments  on  sights  and  insights,  and 
then  quotes  Edmund  Spenser,  saying  we  all 
ought  to  think 

"Of  that  same  time  when  no  more  change  shall  be, 

But  steadfast  rest  of  all  things,  firmly  staid 

Upon  the  pillars  of  eternity, 

That  is  contraire  to  mutability  : 

For  all  that  moveth  doth  in  change  delight, 

But  thenceforth  all  shall  rest  eternally 

With  him  that  is  the  God  of  Sabaoth'  bight. 

That  great  Sabaoth!  God  grant  me  that  Sabbath's  sight!" 

970  The  Last  Supper.  L.  M. 

'T  was  on  that  dark,  that  doleful  night. 
When  powers  of  earth  and  hell  arose 
Against  the  Son  of  God's  delight, 
And  friends  betrayed  him  to  his  foes. 

2  Before  the  mournful  scene  began, 

He  took  the  bread,  and  blessed,  and  brake  • 
What  loye  through  all  his  actions  ran  !  ' 

What  wondrous  worcls  of  grace  he  spake  ! 

3  "  This  is  my  body,  broke  for  sin  : 
Receive  and  eat  the  living  food  :" 

Then  took  the  cup  and  blessed  the  wine  ; 
"  'T  is  the  new  covenant,  in  my  blood." 


4  "  Do  this,"  he  cried,  "till  time  shall  end. 
In  memory  of  your  dying  Friend  ; 

Meet  at  my  table,  and  record 
The  love  of  your  departed  Lord." 

5  Jesus,  thy  feast  we  celebrate  ; 

We  show  thy  death,  we  sing  thy  name. 
Till  thou  return,  and  we  shall  eat 
The  marriage  supper  of  the  Lamb. 

This  is  from  Rev.  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  Hymns 
and  Spiritual  Songs, 'axx^  was  WTitten  in  1707, 
bearing  the  title  "  The  Lord's  Supper  Insti- 
tuted." It  was  inspired  by  the  account  in  the 
eleventh  chapter  of  I.  Corinthians,  of  the  scene 
in  the  upper  chamber  at  Jerusalem,  when  the 
disciples  met  their  Master  to  eat  with  him  the 
Passover. 

"  Our  Lord  Jesus,  in  the  night  wherein  he 
was  betrayed,  instituted  the  sacrament  of  his 
body  and  blood,  called  the  Lord's  Supper,  to 
be  observed  in  his  church,  unto  the  end  of 
the  world  ;  for  the  perpetual  remembrance  of 
the  sacrifice  of  himself  in  his  death,  the  seal- 
ing all  benefits  thereof  unto  true  believers, 
their  spiritual  nourishment  and  growth  in 
him,  their  further  engagement  in  and  to  all 
duties  which  they  owe  unto  him ;  and  to  be  a 
bond  and  pledge  of  their  communion  with 
him,  and  with  each  other,  as  members  of  his 
mystical  body." 

97  i  The  Institution.  L.  M. 

At  thy  command,  our  dearest  Lord, 

Here  we  attend  thy  dying  feast ; 
Thy  blood,  like  wine,  adorns  the  board. 

And  thine  own  flesh  feeds  every  guest. 

2  Our  faith  adores  thy  bleeding  love. 
And  trusts  for  life  in  One  that  died  ; 

We  hope  for  heavenly  crowns  above 
From  a  Redeemer  crucified. 

3  Let  the  vain  world  pronounce  it  shame. 
And  fling  their  scandals  on  the  cause ; 

We  come  to  boast  our  Saviour'e  name, 
And  make  our  triumphs  in  his  cross. 

4  With  joy  we  tell  the  scoffing  age. 
He  that  was  dead  has  left  his  tomb ; 

He  lives  above  their  utmost  rage. 
And  we  are  waiting  till  he  come. 

Dr.  Isaac  Watts  has  this  in  his  Hymns,  Book 
III.,  No.  19.  It  is  entitled  "  Glory  in  the  Cross ; 
or,  Not  Ashamed  of  Christ  Crucified."  For 
unreckoned  years  it  has  been  the  custom  in 
most  of  the  New  England  churches  to  intro- 
duce the  administration  of  the  Lord's  Supper 
with  these  verses.  A  certain  kind  of  roll-call 
is  mysteriously  lodged  in  them  now.  The 
moment  the  well-known  syllables  of  that  first 
line  fall  on  the  ear,  we  seem  to  see  the  table 
with  its  white  spread,  the  forms  of  venerable 
men  coming  up  the  aisle,  dear  faces  growing 
calm  and  reverent  in  the  pew,  and  the  sacra- 
ment begins. 


THE    lord's    supper. 


419 


972  Crucifying  the  Lord  afresh.  L.  M. 

O  Jesus  !  bruised  and  wounded  more 
Than  bursted  grape  or  bread  of  wheat, 

The  Life  of  life  within  our  souls, 
The  Cup  of  our  salvation  sweet ! 

2  We  come  to  show  thy  dying  hour, 
Thy  streaming  vein,  thy  broken  flesh  ; 

And  still  the  blood  is  warm  to  save, 
And  still  the  fragrant  wounds  are  fresh. 

3  O  Heart !  that,  with  a  double  tide 
Of  blood  and  water   maketh  pure  ; 

O  Flesh  !  once  offered  on  the  cross, 
The  gift  that  makes  our  pardon  sure — 

4  Let  never  more  our  sinful  souls 
The  anguish  of  thy  cross  renew. 

Nor  forge  again  the  cruel  nails 
That  pierced  thy  victim  body  through. 

5  Come,  Bread  of  heaven,  to  feed  our  souls, 
And  with  thee  Jesus  enter  in  ! 

Come,  Wine  of  God  !  and,  as  we  drink 
His  precious  blood,  wash  out  our  sin  ! 

Written  by  Mrs.  Cecil  Frances  Alexander, 
wife  of  the  Bishop  of  Derry,  in  Ireland.  It 
met  the  public  first  as  a  hymn  for  "  Holy 
Communion,"  as  its  title  suggests,  in  her 
work.  The  Legend  of  the  Golden  Prayers, 
and  Other  Poems,  1859.  It  has  had  since 
then  a  wide  circulation  and  a  deserved 
popularity. 


973  Feeding  on  Christ.  L.  M. 

I  FEED  by  faith  on  Christ ;  my  bread, 
His  body  broken  on  the  tree; 

1  live  in  him,  my  living  Head, 

Who  died  and  rose  again  for  me. 

2  This  be  my  joy  and  comfort  here, 
This  pledge  of  future  glory  mine  : 

Jesus,  in  spirit  now  appear, 

And  break  the  bread  and  pour  the  wine. 

3  From  thy  dear  hand  may  I  receive 
The  tokens  of  thy  dying  love. 

And,  while  I  feast  on  earth,  believe 
That  I  shall  feast  with  thee  above. 

James  Montgomery  published  this  first  in 
his  Christian  Psalmist,  1825,  and  again  with- 
out alteration  in  his  Original  Hymns,  1853, 
entitled  "  The  Lord's  Supper." 


97  4  Immanuel. 

Oh,  sweetly  breathe  the  lyres  above. 
When  angels  touch  the  quivering  string. 

And  wake  to  chant  Inimanuel's  love, 
Such  strains  as  angel-lips  can  sing  ! 

2  And  sweet  on  earth  the  choral  swell, 
From  mortal  tongues,  of  gladsome  lays, 

When  pardoned  souls  their  raptures  tell. 
And,  grateful,  hymn  Immanuel's  praise. 

3  Jesus,  thy  name  our  souls  adore  ; 

We  own  the  bond  that  makes  us  thine  ; 
And  carnal  joys  that  charmed  before 
For  thy  dear  sake  we  now  resign. 

4  Our  hearts,  by  dying  love  subdued, 
Accept  thine  ofTerecT grace  to-day  ; 

Beneath  the  cross,  with  blood  bedewed, 
We  bow  and  give  ourselves  away. 


5  In  thee  we  trust,  on  thee  rely  ; 

Though  we  are  feeble,  thou  art  strong ; 
Oh,  keep  us  till  our  spirits  fly 

To  join  the  bright,  immortal  throng  ! 

In  the  volume  of  Dr.  Ray  Palmer's  poems 
this  hymn  is  not  printed  by  the  author ;  he 
himself  reported  such  an  omission  as  a 
"  strange  mischance."  And  the  account  of 
its  composition  is  from  his  own  pen :  on  a 
communion  occasion  when  a  large  number  of 
young  persons  were  to  be  received,  he  wished 
a  hymn  similar  in  spirit  and  thought  to  that 
of  Philip  Doddridge,  "  Oh,  happy  day  that 
fixed  my  choice."  This  he  had  given  at  the 
season  just  previous,  and,  not  caring  to  repeat 
it,  he  wrote  new  stanzas  to  take  its  place  ;  and 
thus  he  gave  the  church  a  better  one  to  do 
service  as  a  convert's  joyous  confession  of 
faith.  It  was  published  first  in  the  collection 
of  Rev.  S.  C.  Brace,  Parish  Hymns,  1843. 


975  "  Thou  preparest  a  table."  L.  M- 

My  God,  and  is  thy  table  spread. 
And  doth  thy  cup  with  love  o'erflow  ? 

Thither  be  all  thy  children  led, 
And  let  them  all  its  sweetness  know. 

2  Hail,  sacred  Feast,  which  Jesus  makes. 
Rich  banquet  of  his  flesh  and  blood  ! 

Thrice  happy  he  who  here  partakes 
That  sacred  stream,  that  heavenly  food. 

3  Oh,  let  thy  table  honored  be 
And  furnished  well  with  joyous  guests  ; 

And  may  each  soul  salvation  see, 
•  That  here  its  sacred  pledges  tastes. 

4  To  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost, 
One  God  whom  heaven  and  earth  adore, 

From  men,  and  from  the  angel-host. 
Be  praise  and  glory  everniore  ! 

The  printer,  J.  Archdeacon,  who  appended 
this  piece  of  Dr.  Philip  Doddridge  to  the  re- 
vised book  of  Psalms  atid  Hymns  of  Tate 
and  Brady,  1782,  just  to  fill  up  a  blank,  never 
did  a  thing  more  unintentionally  but  surely 
calculated  to  make  his  name  immortal.  It  is 
a  good  hymn ;  but  the  authorities  of  the 
Church  of  England  never  gave  permission  to 
a  dissenting  publisher  of  Ijooks  to  introduce 
L.  M.  new  matter  into  the  prayer-book.  Yet  there 
it  was  permitted  to  stand  for  years.  The 
title  to  the  hymn  is  the  quaintest  part  of  the 
transaction  :  "  God's  Name  profaned,  when 
his  Table  is  treated  with  Contempt,  Malachi 
1:12.     Applied  to  the  Lord's  Supper." 


976  "  Otir  exalted  Lord." 

To  Jesus,  our  exalted  Lord, 
That  name  in  heaven  and  earth  adored 
Fain  would  our  hearts  and  voices  raise 
A  cheerful  song  of  sacred  praise. 

2  But  all  the  notes  which  mortals  know 
Are  weak,  and  languishing,  and  low  : 
Far,  far  above  our  humble  songs. 
The  theme  demands  immortal  tongues. 


L.  M. 


420 


THE  CHURCH   OF   GOD. 


3  Yet  whilst  around  his  board  we  meet, 
And  worship  at  his  sacred  feet, 
Oh,  let  our  warm  affections  move, 
In  glad  returns  of  grateful  love. 

Miss  Anne  Steele  published  this  in  her 
Poems,  by  Theodosia,  1760,  with  the  title, 
"  Communion  with  Christ  at  his  Table." 
She  has  another  hymn  beginning,  "  To  Jesus, 
our  victorious  Lord." 

977  At  the  Cross.  L.  M 

Dear  Lord,  amid  the  throng  that  pressed 

."Vround  thee  on  the  cursed  tree, 
Some  loyal,  loving  hearts  there  were. 

Some  pitying  eyes  that  wept  for  thee. 

2  Like  them  may  we  rejoice  to  own 

Our  dying  Lord,  though  crowned  with  thorn ; 
Like  thee,  thy  blessed  self,  endure 
The  cross  with  all  its  cruel  scorn. 

3  Thy  cross,  thy  lonely  path  below. 
Show  what  thy  brethren  all  should  be  ; 

Pilgrims  on  earth,  disowned  by  those 
Who  see  no  beauty.  Lord,  in  thee. 

This  is  taken  from  the  Selection  of  Hymns 
of  Sir  Edward  Denny,  1839.  It  is  entitled, 
"  The  Faithful  Few,"  Luke  23  :  49  :  "  And 
all  his  acquaintance,  and  the  women  that  fol- 
lowed him  from  Galilee,  stood  afar  off,  be- 
holding these  things." 

978  The  day  0/ Espousals.  L.  M. 

Jesus,  thou  everlasting  King! 
Accept  the  tribute  that  we  bring  ; 
Accept  the  well-deserved  renown. 
And  wear  our  praises  as  thy  crown. 

2  Let  every  act  of  worship  be, 
Like  our  espousals.  Lord  !  to  thee ; 
Like  the  dear  hour,  when,  from  above, 
We  first  received  thy  pledge  of  love. 

3  The  gladness  of  that  happy  day — 
Our  hearts  would  wish  it  long  to  stay  ; 
Nor  let  our  faith  forsake  its  hold. 
Nor  comfort  sink,  nor  love  grow  cold. 

4  Each  following  minute,  as  it  flies. 
Increase  thy  praise,  improve  our  joys ; 
Till  we  are  raised  to  sing  thy  name, 
At  the  great  supper  of  the  Lamb. 

This  poem  by  Dr.  Isaac  Watts  in  its  orig- 
inal form  consisted  of  six  stanzas,  and  was 
published  in  his  Hymns  and  Spiritual  Songs, 
1709.  It  was  suggested  by  the  passage  in 
the  Song  of  Solomon  which  represents  Christ 
as  a  royal  bridegroom  about  to  be  espoused 
to  the  Church.  So  our  hearts  should  remem- 
ber gladly  the  promises  we  have  made  to 
our  Lord,  and  the  love  we  owe  him.  There 
is  one  sweet  verse  of  an  old  Psalm  which 
can  be  quoted  easily ;  it  could  be  engraved 
upon  a  seal  ring;  I  once  thought  I  would 
have  it  etched  on  my  watch-dial,  so  as  to 
read  it  every  time  I  sought  to  know  the  hour. 
You  ought  to  find  it  familiar  when  you  hear 
it :  "  Thy  vows  are  upon  me,  O  God  ;  I  will 
render  praises  unto    thee !"     How  sweet  to 


say  in  the  morning,  when  one  first  looks  out 
upon  the  new  day,  "  Thy  vows  are  upon  me, 
O  God  !"  How  nne  it  is  to  say  in  the  even- 
ing, when  the  shadows  fold  over  us  at  the 
end  of  a  busy  day,  "  Thy  vows  are  upon  me, 
O  God !"  How  inexpressibly  solemn,  but 
welcome  to  the  heart  of  us  all,  it  is  to  say  in 
the  deep  midnight,  when  the  bell  tolls,  "  Thy 
vows  are  upon  me,  O  God ;  I  will  render 
praises  unto  thee !" 

979  "  Thou  art  near."  L.  M. 

O  Love  Divine  !  that  stooped  to  share 
Our  sharpest  pang,  our  bitterest  tear. 

On  thee  we  cast  each  earth-born  care. 
We  smile  at  pain,  while  thou  art  near. 

2  Though  long  the  weary  way  vve  tread. 
And  sorrow  crown  each  lingering  year. 

No  path  we  shun,  no  darkness  dread. 
Our  hearts  still  whispering,  thou  art  near. 

3  When  drooping  pleasure  turns  to  grief. 
And  trembling  faith  is  changed  to  fear. 

The  murmuring  wind,  the  quivering  leaf, 
Shall  softly  tell  us  thou  art  near. 

4  On  thee  we  fling  our  burdening  woe, 
O  Love  Divine,  forever  dear; 

Content  to  suffer  while  we  know. 
Living  or  dying,  thou  art  near ! 

It  seems  a  little  strange  to  think  of  Oliver 
Wendell  Holmes,  the  author  of  the  "  Won- 
derful One-hoss  Shay,"  as  a  writer  of  hymns. 
But  no  one  can  ever  read  or  sing  the  two  ex- 
quisite lyrics  he  has  lent  to  Laudes  Domini 
without  admitting  their  supreme  fitness,  de- 
votion, and  beauty.  The  original  title  to  this 
one  is :  "  Hymn  of  Trust."  Its  pathetic 
little  refrain  is  taken  from  Psalm  119:151  : 
"  Thou  art  near,  O  Lord " — which  would 
make  a  grand  text  for  a  sermon  by  itself. 
It  was  written  in  1848,  and  published  in  the 
Professor  at  the  Breakfast  Table,  in  1859. 

9S0  "  The  living  bread."  L.  M. 

Away  from  earth  my  spirit  turns. 
Away  from  every  transient  good  ; 

With  strong  desire  my  bosom  burns 
To  feast  on  heaven's  diviner  food. 

2  Thou,  Saviour,  art  the  living  bread  ; 
Thou  wilt  my  every  want  supply  ; 

By  these  sustained,  and  cheered,  and  led, 
I  '11  press  through  dangers  to  the  sky. 

3  What  though  temptations  oft  distress. 
And  sin  assails  and  breaks  my  peace ; 

Thou  wilt  uphold,  and  save,  and  oless, 
And  bid  the  storms  of  passion  cease. 

4  Then  let  me  take  thy  gracious  hand, 
And  walk  beside  thee  onward  still ; 

Till  my  glad  feet  shall  safely  stand, 
For  ever  firm,  on  Zion's  hill. 

Another  of  Dr.  Ray  Palmer's  poems.  It 
was  written  in  New  Haven,  Conn.,  and  seems 
to  have  been  one  of  a  number  of  pieces  which 
he  contributed   to    Lowell    Mason's    Union 


THE   LORD  S   SUPPER. 


421 


Hymns,  1833.  It  is  founded  on  John  6:51: 
•'  I  am  the  living  bread  which  came  down 
from  heaven  :  if  any  man  eat  of  this  bread,  he 
shall  live  for  ever :  and  the  bread  that  I  will 
give  is  my  flesh,  which  I  will  give  for  the  life 
of  the  world." 

98 1  Parting  Song.  L.  M. 

Oh,  the  sweet  wonders  of  that  cross 
Wliere  my  Redeemer  loved  and  died  ! 

Her  noblest  life  my  spirit  draws 
From  his  dear  wounds  and  bleeding  side. 

2  I  would  for  ever  speak  his  name 
In  sounds  to  mortal  ears  unknown ; 

With  angels  join  to  praise  the  Lamb, 
And  worship  at  his  Father's  throne. 

3  O  Lord,  the  Lord  of  lords,  to  thee 
Eternal  praise  and  glory  be ; 

Whom  with  the  Father  we  adore, 
And  Holy  Ghost  for  evermore. 

In  the  Hymns  of  Dr.  Isaac  Watts  this 
appears  as  No.  10  in  Book  III.  There  it 
commences  with  the  line,  "  Nature  with  open 
volume  stands,"  and  has  six  stanzas.  The 
communion  hymn  before  us  is  made  up  of 
the  last  two  verses  of  the  six,  and  a  doxology, 
taken  from  the  Baptist  Hymn  and  Tune 
Book.  To  many  persons  it  seems  as  if  the 
crucifixion  of  Jesus  Christ  was  not  made  for 
the  theme  of  a  song.  Some  one  has  said  that 
it  teaches  a  theology  which  can  never  be  sung  ; 
but  it  is  the  only  theology  which  has  called 
forth  the  tenderest  and  loftiest  tones  of  human 
feeling,  all  its  abasement  for  sin,  all  its  joy 
in  salvation,  which  finds  its  full  expression 
.equally  in  that  saddest  of  human  music,  the 
woful  Miserere,  which  recalls  the  sacred,  aw- 
ful passion  of  our  dying  Lord,  and  the  jubilant 
and  triumphant  anthem  which  celebrates  his 
accomplished  victory. 

982  Living  to  Christ.  L.  M. 

Mv  gracious  Lord,  I  own  thy  right 

To  every  service  I  can  pay, 
And  call  it  my  supreme  delight 

To  hear  thy  dictates  and  obey. 

2  What  is  my  being,  but  for  thee, 
Its  sure  support,  its  noblest  end? 

Thine  ever-smiling  face  to  see, 
And  serve  the  cause  of  such  a  Friend. 

3  I  would  not  breathe  for  worldly  joy, 
Or  to  increase  my  worldly  good  ; 

Nor  future  days  nor  powers  employ 
To  spread  a  sounding  name  abroad. 

4  'T  is  to  my  Saviour  I  would  live. 
To  him  who  for  my  ransom  died ; 

Nor  could  the  bowers  of  Eden  give 
Such  bliss  as  blossoms  at  his  side. 

5  His  work  my  hoary  a^e  shall  bless. 
When  youthful  vigor  is  no  more ; 

And  my  last  hour  oflife  confess 
His  dying  love,  his  saving  power. 

This  is  No.  294  of  Dr.  Philip  Doddridge's 
Hymns  and  is  entitled,  "  Christ's  Service,  the 


Fruit  of  our  Labors  on  Earth."  Philippians 
I  :  22.  It  was  first  published  in  1755,  and  it 
has  been  much  changed  in  form  and  purpose 
since  then.  It  has  fallen  into  most  successf til 
use  as  a  communion  hymn  on  introducing 
young  people  into  membership.  It  suggests 
many  profitable  thoughts  concerning  the  seri- 
ousness of  such  a  step.  A  visitor  at  the  In- 
dian School  in  Carlisle  asked  a  Cheyenne  girl 
if  she  was  a  member  of  the  Church.  She  re- 
plied :  "  Not  much — just  a  little."  In  a  sense 
in  which,  perhaps,  she  did  not  mean  it,  her 
reply  would  apply  to  a  good  many  who  are 
yet,  technically,  "  in  good  and  regular  stand- 
ing," so  far  as  the  records  of  the  books  show. 

983  "  Bought  with  a  price."  L- M. 

Lord,  I  am  thine,  entirely  thine. 
Purchased  and  saved  by  blood  divine, 
With  full  consent  thine  I  would  be, 
And  own  thy  sovereign  right  in  me. 

2  Grant  one  poor  sinner  more  a  place 
Among  the  children  of  thy  grace; 

A  wretched  sinner,  lost  to  God, 
But  ransomed  by  Immanuel's  blood. 

3  Thine  would  I  live,  thine  would  I  die, 
Be  thine  through  all  eternity  ; 

The  vow  is  past  beyond  repeal  ; 
And  now  I  set  the  solemn  seal. 

4  Here  at  that  cross  where  flows  the  blood 
That  bought  my  guilty  soul  for  God, 
Thee  my  new  Master  now  I  call. 

And  consecrate  to  thee  my  all. 

5  Do  thou  assist  a  feeble  worm 
The  great  engagement  to  perform  ; 
Thy  grace  can  full  assistance  lend. 
And  on  that  grace  I  dare  depend. 

Although  the  writer  of  this  hymn.  Rev. 
Samuel  Davies,  D.  D.,  had  but  thirty-seven 
years  of  life  allotted  to  him,  he  was  a  power 
for  good  in  the  world.  Born  in  Newcastle, 
Delaware,  November  3,  1724,  he  was  assisted 
in  his  education  by  a  pastor  in  New  Bruns- 
wick. N,  J.,  and  studied  for  the  ministry  un- 
der the  direction  of  Rev.  Samuel  Blair,  of 
Chester  Co.,  Pa.  In  1746  he  was  licensed  to 
preach,  and  two  years  later  was  settled  over 
a  church  in  Virginia.  Afterwards  he  was 
selected  by  the  trustees  of  the  college  in 
Princeton  to  solicit  funds  in  England,  whither 
he  went  in  1753  in  company  with  Rev.  Gil- 
bert Tennent.  He  was  elected  President  of 
the  college  in  1759,  being  successor  to  Jona- 
than Edwards,  but  he  held  the  office  only  a 
short  time,  as  his  death  occurred  February  4, 
1 761.  It  is  a  singular  fact  that  his  first 
sermon  in  that  year  was  on  the  text,  "  This 
year  thou  shalt  die."  Dr.  Davies  was  a  man 
of  great  ability  and  wide  influence.  Several 
volumes  of  his  sermons  have  been  published, 
and  although  he  wrote  but  sixteen  hymns, 
half  of  that  number  are  still  in  general  use ; 


422 


THE  CHURCH   OF  GOD. 


and  most,  if  not  all,  were  issued  in  Hymtts 
Adapted  to  Divine  Worship,  1769.  The 
one  given  here  is  a  favorite  for  communion 
services,  as  it  expresses  a  spirit  of  entire  con- 
secration and  renews  the  vows  of  devotion. 
At  ancient  baptisms  the  officiating  minister 
used  to  fold  the  white  linen  garment  which 
the  young  Christian  wore  and  hand  it  back  to 
him';  then  he  would  say  :  "  See  thou  present 
this  robe  of  your  profession  spotless  at  the 
judgment-seat  of  Christ  I" 

984  "  Forget  him  not."  L.  M. 

O  THOU,  my  soul,  forget  no  more 
The  Friend  who  all  thy  sorrows  bore ; 
Let  every  idol  be  forgot, 
But,  O  my  soul,  forget  him  not. 

2  Renounce  thy  works  and  ways,  with  grief, 
And  fly  to  this  divine  relief ; 

Nor  him  forget,  who  left  his  throne 
And  for  thy  life  gave  up  his  own. 

3  Eternal  truth  and  mercy  shine 
In  him,  and  he  himself  is  thine  ; 
And  canst  thou,  then,  with  sin  beSet. 

Such  charms,  such  matchless  charms,  forget  ? 

4  Oh,  no:  till  life  itself  depart 

His  name  shall  cheer  and  warm  my  heart ; 
And,  lisping  this,  from  earth  I  '11  rise, 
And  join  the  chorus  of  the  skies. 


KRISHNU  PAL. 

Rev.  Joshua  Marshman,  D.  D.,  was  born 
at  Westbury  Leigh,  Wiltshire,  England, 
April  20,  1768,  and  was  educated  at  Bristol 
College  for  the  Baptist  ministry.  He  decided 
to  become  a  missionary  and  in  1 799  went  out 
to  Serampore,  India.  After  twenty-seven 
years  at  work  he  returned  to  England  for  a 
visit,  but  went  back  to  India  in  1829,  dying 
in  his  field  of  labor,  December  5,  1837.  The 
poem  given  here  is  a  translation  made  by  him 
from  a  Bengali  original,  the  work  of  Krishnu 


Pal,  who  was  the  first  Hindu  baptized  in 
Bengal.  It  was  published  in  Rippon's 
Baptist  Selection,  1827,  and  has  since  been 
used  extensively. 


985 


The  Memorial  of  our  Lord. 


L.  M. 


Jesus  is  gone  above  the  skies 

Where  our  weak  senses  reach  him  not ; 

And  carnal  objects  court  our  eyes. 
To  thrust  our  Saviour  from  our  thought. 

2  He  knows  what  wandering  hearts  we  have, 
Apt  to  forget  his  lovely  face ; 

And,  to  refresh  our  minds,  he  gave 
These  kind  memorials  of  his  grace. 

3  Let  sinful  sweets  be  all  forgot. 
And  earth  grow  less  in  our  esteem  ; 

Christ  and  his  love  fill  every  thought ; 
And  faith  and  hope  be  fixed  on  him. 

4  While  he  is  absent  from  our  sight, 
'T  is  to  prepare  our  souls  a  place, 

That  we  may  dwell  in  heavenly  light. 
And  live  for  ever  near  his  face. 

In  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  Hymns  and  Spiritual 
Songs,  1707,  this  poem  appeared  in  six  stanzas, 
bearing  the  title,  "  The  memorial  of  our  absent 
Lord."  The  opening  verses,  which  speak  of 
the  tendency  of  earthly  things  to  lead  the 
heart  away  from  the  love  of  Christ,  suggest 
the  story  of  the  great  artist  who  painted  a 
picture  of  our  Lord's  Supper.  His  desire  was 
to  make  the  figure  and  face  of  the  Saviour 
the  prominent  feature  of  the  picture.  But  he 
put  in  the  foreground  of  the  painting  some 
cups,  the  ornamentation  of  which  was  ex- 
ceedingly beautiful.  When  the  picture  was 
presented  for  inspection,  his  friends  exclaimed, 
"  What  beautiful  cups  !"  "  Ah,"  said  he,  "  I 
have  made  a  mistake.  These  cups  divert  the 
eyes  of  the  spectator  from  the  Lord,  to  whom 
I  wished  to  direct  the  attention  of  every  ob- 
server." And  taking  his  brush,  he  blotted 
them  from  the  picture,  that  the  figure  of 
Christ  might  be  the  chief  attraction. 

986  "  Eat,  O  friends. I"  L.  M. 

Dr.wv  near,  O  Holy  Dove,  draw  near, 
With  peace  and  gladness  on  thy  wing ; 

Reveal  the  Saviour's  presence  here. 
And  light,  and  life,  and  comfort  bring. 

2  "  Eat,  O  my  friends — drink,  O  beloved !" 
We  hear  the  Master's  voice  exclaim  ; 

Our  hearts  with  new  desire  are  moved. 
And  kindled  with  a  heavenly  flame. 

3  No  room  for  doubt,  no  room  for  dread, 
Nor  tears,  nor  groans,  nor  anxious  sighs ; 

We  do  not  mourn  a  Saviour  dead, 
But  hail  him  living  in  the  skies ! 

4  While  this  we  do,  remembering  thee, 
Dear  Saviour,  let  our  graces  prove 

We  have  thy  blessed  company, 
Thy  banner  over  us  is  love. 

Another  of  the  excellent  hymns  of  Rev. 
Aaron  Robarts  Wolfe,  prepared  with  many 
others  for  the  Church  Melodies,  1858.  edited 


THE   lord's  supper. 


423 


by  Dr.  Hastings.  It  is  entitled  there  "  At 
the  Communion,"  and  is  annotated  with  ref- 
erences to  I.  Corinthians  1 1  :  24,  and  Luke 
22:19,  although  it  uses  the  phraseology  of 
Solomon's  Song  5  :  i ,  in  one  of  the  stanzas  with 
a  fine  felicity  of  adaptation.  It  bears,  as  do  all 
the  others,  only  the  initials  "  A.  R.  W." 

Q37  Robe  of  Righteousness.  L.  M. 

Jesus,  thy  Blood  and  Righteousness 
My  beauty  are,  my  glorious  dress  ; 
'Midst  flaming  worlds,  in  these  arrayed, 
With  joy  shalll  lift  up  my  head. 

2  Lord,  I  believe  thy  precious  blood — 
Which  at  the  mercy-seat  of  God 

For  ever  doth  for  sinners  plead — 
For  me,  ev'n  for  my  soul,  was  shed. 

3  When  from  the  dust  of  death  I  rise 
To  claim  my  mansion  in  the  skies — 
Ev'n  then  this  shall  be  all  my  plea : 
Jesus  hath  lived,  hath  died  for  me. 

4  This  spotless  robe  the  same  appears 
When  ruined  nature  sinks  in  years ; 
No  age  can  change  its  glorious  hue. 
The  robe  of  Christ  is  ever  new. 

5  Oh,  let  the  dead  now  hear  thy  voice ; 
Bid,  Lord,  thy  mourning  ones  rejoice; 
Their  beauty  this,  their  glorious  dress, 
Jesus,  the  Lord  our  Righteousness. 

Rev.  John  Wesley  translated  this  from  the 
German  hymn  of  Count  Nicholas  Lewis  Zin- 
zendorf ;  it  begins  "  Christi Blut  imd  Gerecht- 
igkeit,  and  was  composed  in  the  spring  of 
1739  during  a  voyage  from  the  West  Indies 
to  England ;  it  has  thirty-three  stanzas,  and 
this  is  a  paraphrase.  There  is  known  to  have 
been  a  singular  period  in  the  religious  ex- 
perience of  John  Wesley  in  which  such  a  pro- 
fession of  faith  as  this  poetry  delineates  was 
needed  and  received.  It  was  after  he  had  been 
ordained  to  the  ministry,  indeed  after  he  had 
spent  two  years  and  more  preaching  to  white 
men  and  Indians  in  America.  On  his  voy- 
age home,  when  he  was  about  one  hundred 
and  sixty  leagues  from  Land's  End,  he  wrote, 
January  24,  1738:  "I  went  to  America  to 
convert  the  Indians,  but  oh,  who  shall  convert 
me  ?"  A  few  days  later,  after  he  was  safely 
on  shore  in  England,  February  i,  ,1738,  he 
wrote  again :  "  What  have  I  learned  }  Why 
{what  I  the  least  of  all  suspected),  that  I  who 
went  to  America  to  convert  others  was  never 
myself  converted  to  God.  (I  am  not  sure  of 
this.)"  Now  in  reference  to  these  facts,  Rev. 
Carl  F.  Eltzholtz  interposes  what  seems  like 
one  of  the  fairest  of  ordinary  historic  depreca- 
tions ;  his  words  are  these  : 

"On  Wednesday  evening.  May  24,  1738, 
while  at  London,  Wesley  went  to  that  mem- 
orable meeting  at  Aldersgate  Street,  where 
he  was  enabled  to  trust  God  for  a  full,  free, 
and   present    salvation  through    Christ,   and 


there  and  then  he  received  the  divine  baptism 
of  the  Holy  (jhost  and  fire  which  warmed  his 
heart  so  strangely  ( Works,  vol.  3,  p.  74). 
Now,  please  notice  that  that  clause, '  I  am  not 
sure  of  this,'  is  put  into  the  text  by  Wesley 
as  a  parenthesis.  When  he  in  after  life  had 
reached  a  higher  experience,  more  spiritual 
wisdom,  and  a  profounder  knowledge  of  the 
mysteries  of  God  and  true  experimental  re- 
ligion, he  came  to  the  conclusion  that  this  as- 
sertion was  too  strong,  and  therefore,  in 
justice  to  himself,  to  the  truth,  and  to  his 
many  followers,  he  appended  this  note  to  his 
journal ;  and  it  is  not  more  than  simple  justice 
to  the  great  founder  of  Methodism  that,  when 
writers  and  preachers  quote  this,  Wesley's 
statement  about  his  conversion,  they  should 
also  quote  his  appended  note.  He  was  pray- 
ing for  and  groaning  after  inward  holiness." 

988  Persistent  Love.  C.  M. 

How  sweet  and  awful  is  the  place 

With  Christ  within  the  doors. 
While  everlasting  love  displays 

The  choicest  of  her  stores. 

2  When  all  our  hearts,  and  all  our  songs. 
Join  to  admire  the  feast, 

Each  of  us  cries  with  thankful  tongue — 
"  Lord,  why  was  I  a  guest? 

3  "  Why  was  I  made  to  hear  thy  voice, 
And  enter  while  there  's  room. 

When  thousands  make  a  wretched  choice. 
And  rather  stars'e  than  come?" 

4  'T  was  the  same  love  that  spread  the  feast. 
That  sweetly  drew  us  in  : 

Else  we  had  still  refused  to  taste. 
And  perished  in  our  sin. 

5  Pity  the  nations,  O  our  God  ' 
Constrain  the  earth  to  come  ; 

Send  thy  victorious  word  abroad. 
And  bring  the  strangers  home. 

No.  13  of  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  Book  III.  It 
has  the  title,  "  Luke  14 :  17-23  :  Divine  Love 
making  a  Feast,  and  calling,  in  the  Guests." 
This  is  one  of  the  fi.xed  institutions  of  the 
Lord's  Supper  in  many  quarters  of  our  coun- 
try. To  sing  "  How  sweet  and  awful  is  the 
place  "  to  the  tune  "  Dundee  "  is  really  a  part 
of  the  ceremonial. 

989  "  Friend  0/ Sinners."  C.  M. 

Jesus  !  thou  art  the  sinner's  Friend  : 

As  such  I  look  to  thee  ; 
Now,  in  the  fullness  of  thy  love, 

0  Lord  !  remember  me. 

2  Remember  thy  pure  word  of  grace — 
Remember  Calvary ; 

Remember  all  thy  dying  groans. 
And  then  remember  me. 

3  Thou  wondrous  Advocate  with  God  ! 

1  yield  mvself  to  thee  ; 

While  thou  art  sitting  on  thy  throne, 
Dear  Lord  !  remember  me. 


424 


THE  CHURCH   OF  GOD. 


4  Lord !  I  am  guilty— I  am  vile, 

But  thy  salvation 's  free  ; 
Then  in  thine  all-abounding  grace, 

Dear  Lord  !  remember  me. 

Another  of  Rev.  Richard  Burnham's  con- 
tributions :  it  first  reached  the  public  in  his 
New  Hymns  on  Divers  Subjects,  1783.  In 
this  volume  we  find  a  worthy  illustration  of 
the  writer's  tenderness  and  humility  of  spirit. 
He  dedicates  it  to  his  own  Baptist  congrega- 
tion in  Grafton  Street,  Soho,  London ;  and  in 
the  inscription  of  his  kind  wishes  for  them  he 
voices  the  sentiment  of  the  last  verse  in  this 
communion  song  in  a  profession  of  his  own 
faith  and  hope  :  "  Your  pastor  is  willing  to 
own  that  he  is  the  unworthiest  of  the  unwor- 
thy ;  yet,  unworthy  as  he  is,  he  humbly  trusts, 
through  rich  grace,  he  has  in  some  measure 
found  that  the  dear  bosom  of  the  atoning 
Lamb  is  the  abiding-place  of  his  immortal 
soul." 


990 


"  Prepare  us,  Lord." 


C.  M. 


Prepare  us,  Lord,  to  view  thy  cross, 
Who  all  our  griefs  hast  borne  ; 

To  look  on  thee,  whom  we  have  pierced — 
To  look  on  thee  and  mourn. 

2  While  thus  we  mourn,  we  would  rejoice, 

And  as  thy  cross  we  see. 
Let  each  exclaim,  in  faith  and  hope, 

"  The  Saviour  died  for  me !" 

One  of  those  small  useful  hymns  for  the 
ushering  of  the  communicants  to  the  com- 
munion table  which  every  pastor  needs,  and 
few  compilers  have  thoughtfulness  to  supply. 
Rev.  Thomas  Cotterill  is  the  author  of  it. 

99  I  Feeding  on  Christ.  C.  M. 

Together  with  these  symbols.  Lord, 

Thy  blessed  self  impart ; 
And  let  thy  holy  flesh  and  blood 

Feed  the  believing  heart. 

2  Come,  Holy  Ghost,  with  Jesus'  love. 

Prepare  us  for  this  feast ; 
Oh,  let  us  banquet  with  our  Lord, 

And  lean  upon  his  breast. 

Rev.  John  Cennick  has  given  us  this  little 
piece  in  his  Sacred  Hymns  for  the  Children 
of  God,  1741.  It  begins  with  the  line,  "  To- 
day we  're  bidden  to  a  feast,"  and  is  entitled, 
"  Before  the  Sacrament."  There  it  has  six 
stanzas. 

992  ' '/  will  remember  thee. ' ' 

According  to  thy  gracious  word. 

In  meek  humility. 
This  will  I  do,  my  dying  Lord, 

I  will  remember  thee. 

2  Thy  body,  broken  for  my  sake, 
My  bread  from  heaven  shall  be ; 

Thy  testamental  cup  I  take, 
And  thus  remember  thee. 

3  Gethsemane  can  I  forget  ? 
Or  there  thy  conflict  see. 

Thine  agony  and  bloody  sweat, 
And  not  remember  thee  ? 


CM. 


4  When  to  the  cross  I  turn  mine  eyes. 
And  rest  on  Calvary, 

O  Lamb  of  God,  my  sacrifice  ! 
I  must  remember  thee : 

5  Remember  thee,  and  all  thy  pains 
And  all  thy  love  to  me ; 

Yea,  while  a  breath,  a  pulse  remains. 
Will  I  remember  thee. 

6  And  when  these  failing  lips  grow  dumb. 
And  mind  and  memory  flee. 

When  thou  shall  in  thy  kingdom  come. 
Then,  Lord,  remember  me! 

To  hear  the  line,  "  According  to  thy  gra- 
cious word,"  started  to  the  tune  of  "  Ded- 
ham,"  would  in  many  parts  of  our  country 
awake  memories  of  a  hundred  commtlnion 
seasons,  with  visions  of  old  friends  and  village 
sanctuaries,  and  childhood's  traditions.  When 
that  ancient  strain  is  in  the  air  the  Lord's  Sup- 
per is  on  and  the  dear  sacrament  begins. 
The  words  are  found  in  James  Montgomer^'^'s 
Christian  Psalmist,  1825.  The  title  is,  "  This 
do  in  Remembrance  of  Me,"  Luke  22 :  19. 
From  this,  as  in  the  instance  of  Richard  Burn- 
ham's  hymn  just  before,  comes  the  refrain  of 
each  stanza. 

993  "  The  cup  of  blessing."  C.  M. 

jEStrs,  at  whose  supreme  command 

We  now  approach  to  God, 
Before  us  in  thy  vesture  stand. 

Thy  vesture  dipped  in  blood. 

2  Now,  Saviour,  now  thyself  reveal, 
And  make  thy  nature  known ; 

Affix  thy  blessed  Spirit's  seal, 
And  stamp  us  for  thine  own. 

3  Obedient  to  thy  gracious  word, 
We  break  the  hallowed  bread, 

Conjimemorate  our  dying  Lord, 
And  trust  on  thee  to  feed. 

4  The  cup  of  blessing.  Blessed  by  thee. 
Let  it  thy  blood  impart ; 

The  broken  bread  thy  body  be. 
To  cheer  each  languid  heart. 

From  the  Hymns  and  Sacred  Poems  of  Rev. 
Charles  Wesley,  1 742.  It  is  entitled  "  Before 
the  Sacrament,"  and  makes  really  one  of  the 
best  of  our  commemorative  songs. 

994  '' Greater  love  hath  no  man."  CM. 

If  human  kindness  meets  return. 

And  owns  the  grateful  tie : 
If  tender  thoughts  within  us  burn. 

To  feel  a  friend  is  nigh — 

2  Oh,  shall  not  warmer  accents  tell 
The  gratitude  we  owe 

To  him  who  died  our  fears  to  quell — 
Who  bore  our  guilt  arid  woe  ! 

3  While  yet  in  anguish  he  surveyed 
Those  pangs  he  would  not  flee, 

What  love  his  latest  woids  displayed — 
"  Meet  and  remember  me  !" 

4  Remember  thee — thy  death,  thy  shame,  ' 
Our  sinful  hearts  to  share! 

O  memory  !  leave  no  other  name 
But  his  recorded  there. 


THE   lord's   supper. 


4-^5 


Hon.  Gerard  T.  Noel,  M.  A.,  was  born  De- 
cember 2,  1782,  and  educated  at  Edinburgh 
and  Cambridge.  He  entered  the  ministry  in 
the  Church  of  England,  and  was  successively 
curate  of  Radwell,  Hertfordshire  and  vicar 
at  Rainham  and  Romsey.  He  was  appointed 
Canon  of  Winchester  Cathedral,  and  died  at 
Romsey,  February  24,  1851.  Mr.  Noel  pub- 
lished several  volumes  of  sermons,  and  a  book 
entitled  Arvendel,  or  Sketches  in  Italy  and 
Switzerland,  181 3,  In  this  appeared  some 
original  hymns,  among  them  the  one  quoted 
here,  which  is  used  extensively. 

9&  J  "  Via  cruets,  via  lucis."  S.  M. 

Oh,  what,  if  we  are  Christ's, 

Is  earthly  shame  or  loss? 
Bright  shall  the  crown  of  glory  be, 

When  we  have  borne  the  cross. 

2  Keen  was  the  trial  once, 
Bitter  the  cup  of  woe, 

.    When  martyred  saints,  baptized  in  blood, 
Christ's  suflferings  shared  below. 

3  Bright  is  their  glory  now. 
Boundless  their  joy  above, 

Where,  on  the  bosom  of  their  God, 
They  rest  in  perfect  love. 

4  Lord,  may  that  grace  be  ours ! 
Like  them  in  faith  to  bear 

All  that  of  sorrow,  grief,  or  pain, 
May  be  our  portion  here  ! 

5  Enough,  if  thou  at  last 
The  word  of  blessing  give. 

And  let  us  rest  beneath  thy  feet. 
Where  saints  and  angels  live. 

This  piece,  by  Sir  Henry  Williams  Baker, 
was  contributed  to  Murray's  Hytnnal  for  the 
use  of  the  English  Church,  1852.  It  is  one 
of  his  best  and  most  popular  compositions, 
full  of  inspiration  and  cheer.  It  seems  to 
make  heaven  and  earth  so  near  together ;  the 
departed  faces  we  miss  appear  almost  to 
shine  again  in  the  air ;  hopes  grow  brighter, 
as  if  lit  by  the  light  which  illumines  the  Mar- 
riage Supper  of  the  Lamb. 


996  "  I  have  peace."  S.  M. 

I  HEAR  the  words  of  love, 
I  gaze  upon  the  blood, 

1  see  the  mighty  sacrifice. 
And  I  have  peace  with  God. 

2  'T  is  everlasting  peace, 
Sure  as  Jehovah's  name  ; 

'T  is  stable  as  his  steadfast  throne, 

.    For  evermore  the  same.  996 

3  The  clouds  may  go  and  come. 
And  storms  may  sweep  my  sky ; 

This  blood-sealed  friendship  changes  not, 
The  cross  is  ever  nigh. 

4  I  change — he  changes  not ; 
The  Christ  can  never  die ; 

His  love,  not  mine,  the  resting-place; 
His  truth,  not  mine,  the  tie. 


5  My  love  is  ofttimes  low. 

My  joy  still  ebbs  and  flows  ; 
But  peace  with  him  remains  the  same. 

No  change  Jehovah  knows. 

This  is  selected,  stanza  by  stanza,  from  one 
of  Dr.  Horatius  Bonar's  long  poems  in  Hymns 
of  Faith  and  Hope,  1864.  It  is  full  of  sober- 
est doctrine  set  forth  in  exquisite  verse.  It 
gives  a  Communion  meditation,  as  one  seems 
to  stand  before  the  cross.  He  sees  "  the 
mighty  sacrifice,"  and  he  has  "  peace  with 
God." 

997  "  !  can  do  all  things."  S.  M. 

O  Saviour,  who  didst  come 

By  water  and  by  blood  ;  ■* 

Confessed  on  earth,  adored  in  heaven, 
Eternal  Son  of  God  ! 

2  Jesus,  our  life  and  hope. 
To  endless  years  the  same  ; 

We  plead  thy  precious  promises, 
And  rest  upon  thy  name. 

3  By  faith  in  thee  we  live, 

'  By  faith  in  thee  we  stand  ; 
By  thee  we  vanquish  sin  and  death. 
And  gain  the  heavenly  land. 

4  O  Lord,  increase  our  faith. 
Our  fearful  spirits  calm  ; 

Sustain  us  through  this  mortal  strife, 
Then  give  the  victor's  palm  ! 

Edward  Osier  was  born  at  Falmouth,  Eng- 
land, January,  1798,  and  educated  for  the 
medical  profession,  studying  in  his  native 
town  and  afterward  at  Guy's  Hospital,  Lon- 
don. He  held  the  position  of  house  surgeon 
at  the  Swansea  Infirmary  from  1819  to  1836, 
and  then  returned  to  London  to  devote  him- 
self to  literary  work.  In  1841  he  became 
editor  of  the  Royal  Cornwall  Gazette  and 
removed  to  Truro,  where  he  resided  until  his 
death,  March  7,  1863.  Mr.  Osier  was  the 
author  of  a  book  upon  Marine  AnimalSy 
written  for  the  Linnaean  Society;  a  biography 
of  Lord  Exmouth ;  a  periodical  entitled 
Church  and  King,  and  a  number  of  hymns. 
Many  of  the  latter  appeared  in  the  Psalms 
and  Hymns  adapted  to  the  Services  of  the 
Church  of  England,  published  in  1836,  and 
commonly  known  as  the  "  Miter  Hymn-book," 
from  the  impression  of  a  miter  on  the  cover. 
The  piece  quoted  here  is  one  of  his  most 
popular  poems. 


"  still  at  the  cross." 

No  GOSPEL  like  this  feast 
Spread  for  thy  church  by  thee ; 

Nor  prophet  nor  evangelist 
Preach  the  glad  news  so  free. 

2  Thine  was  the  bitter  price. 
Ours  is  the  free  gift,  given  ; 

Thine  was  the  blood  of  sacrifice, 
Ours  is  the  wine  of  heaven. 


S.  M. 


426 


THE  CHURCH   OF   GOD. 


3  Here  we  would  rest  midway, 
As  on  a  sacred  height, 

That  darkest  and  that  brightest  day- 
Meeting  before  our  sight. 

4  From  that  dark  depth  of  woes 
Thy  love  for  us  has  trod, 

Up  to  the  heights  of  blest  repose 
Thy  love  prepares  with  God  ; — 

5  Till  from  sell's  chains  released, 
One  sight  alone  we  see. 

Still  at  the  cross,  as  at  the  feast, 
Behold  thee,  only  thee. 

This  hymn  was  written  by  Mrs.  Elizabeth 
Charles,  and  published  in  her  Three  Wak- 
ings and  Other  Poems,  1859.  It  is  entitled, 
"  Holy  Communion."  She  is  at  the  present 
time  a  widow,  and  resides  at  Hampstead 
Heath,  close  by  London.  She  has  taken  for 
herself  the  name  of  Rundle-Charles,  coup- 
ling her  maiden  name  with  that  of  her  hus- 
band who  died  in  1868.  A  correspondent  of 
the  London  Critic,  1892,  who  lately  visited 
her  in  her  cottage  home,  says  :  "  Mrs.  Charles 
has  just  the  sort  of  a  mild,  cheerful,  pleasing 
appearance  one  might  expect,  and  the  little 
touches  of  humor  which  relieve  her  stories 
are  to  be  found  lurking  in  the  corners  of  her 
mobile  mouth  and  expressive  eyes.  She  is 
not  at  present  writing  fiction,  but  has  re- 
cently completed  a  series  of  small  devotional 
works,  which  has  been  a  solace  and  occupa- 
tion during  a  period  of  anxiety  and  prolonged 
nursing.  That,  however,  is  at  an  end,  and 
the  demands  of  numerous  editors  and  pub- 
lishers may  now  meet  with  some  satisfaction. 
The  Schoefiberg-Cotta  Family  still  continues 
to  be  the  most  popular  of  Mrs.  Charles' 
■works  ;  but  for  my  part,  I  prefer  Kitty  Tre- 
■velyan.  It  goes  deeper  into  human  nature, 
and  there  is  more  action  altogether  in  the 
tale." 

999  The  invitation,  S.  M. 

Jesus  invites  his  saints 

To  meet  around  the  board  ; 
Here  pardoned  rebels  sit  and  hold 

Communion  with  their  Lord. 

2  This  holy  bread  and  wine 
Maintains  our  fainting  breath, 

By  union  with  our  living  Lord, 
And  interest  in  his  death. 

3  Our  heavenly  Father  calls 
Christ  and  his  members  one; 

We,  the  young  children  of  his  love. 
And  he,  the  first-born  Son. 

4  Let  all  our  powers  be  joined 
His  glorious  name  to  raise  ; 

Pleasure  and  love  fill  every  mind 
And  every  voice  be  praise. 

5  To  God^  the  Father,  Son, 
And  Spirit,  glory  be. 

As  was,  and  is,  and  shall  remain 
Through  all  eternity ! 

In  Dr.  Watts'  Hymns  and  Spiritual  Songs, 
1707,  this  piece  was  first  published.     It  bears 


the  title, "  Communion  with  Christ  and  with 
saints,"  and  was  suggested  by  the  passage  in 
I.  Corinthians  10:  16,  17. 

1 000  ^'  closing.  S.  M. 
A  PARTING  hymn  we  sing 

Around  thy  table  Lord  ;, 
Again  our  grateful  tribute  bring. 
Our  solemn  vows  record. 

2  Here  have  we  seen  thy  face. 
And  felt  thy  presence  here; 

So  may  the  savor  of  thy  grace 
In  word  and  life  appear. 

3  The  purchase  ofithy  blood — 
By  sin  no  longer  led — 

The  path  our  dear  Redeemer  trod 
May  we  rejoicing  tread. 

4  In  self-forgetting  love 

Be  our  communion  shown. 

Until  we  join  the  church  above. 

And  know  as  we  are  known. 

Rev.  Aaron  Robarts  Wolfe  contributed  this 
hymn  also  to  the  Church  Melodies,  1858,  from 
which,  with  the  permission  of  Dr.  Hastings,  it 
was  gladly  sought  and  obtained  by  the  com- 
piler of  Songs  for  the  Sanctuary  long  before 
he  had  learned  who  the  modest  author  was, 
concealing  himself  persistently  under  the  mere 
letters  of  his  nam.e,  "  A.  R.  W."  Such  a 
hymn  was  needed  in  the  churches  for  just 
that  point  in  the  administration  of  the  Lord's 
Supper  when  the  thought  of  going  away  from 
the  emotions  and  sensibilities  and  enjoyments 
of  the  mystic  festival  breaks  in  upon  the  mind 
of  a  believer,  and  the  world  with  all  its  practi- 
cal bearings  threatens  to  banish  the  recollec- 
tions of  the  scene.  Of  this  piece  he  once  wrote 
to  a  friend  :  "  I  can  remember  nothing  defi- 
nitely about  it,  except  that,  in  looking  over  the 
topics  in  hymn-books  with  the  idea  of  endeav- 
oring to  supply  deficiencies,  I  thought  some- 
thing of  this  kind  might  be  suitable  in  rising 
from  the  Lord's  table."  He  was  right  in  a 
surmise  like  that ;  it  has  been  exceedingly 
useful  in  just  that  way. 

1001  "  The  ark  of  God."  S.  M. 

Oh,  cease,  my  wandering  soul, 

On  restless  wing  to  roam  ; 
All  this  wide  world,  to  either  pole, 

Hath  not  for  thee  a  home. 

2  Behold  the  ark  of  God  ! 
Behold  the  open  door ! 

Oh,  haste  to  gain  that  dear  abode, 
And  rove,  my  soul,  no  more. 

3  There  safe  thou  shalt  abide. 
There  sweet  shall  be  thy  rest ; 

And  every  longing  satisfied. 
With  full  salvation  blest. 

This  favorite  hymn  by  Rev.  Dr.  Miihlen- 
berg  was  written  by  him  for  the  Prayer-Book 
Collection,  1826,  and  contained  originally  five 
stanzas.     It   was   entitled  "  The  Ark  of  the 


THE    LORD'S    SUPPER. 


427 


Church,"  and  is  very  widely  used  at  the  pres- 
ent day. 

J 002  "  7%w  is  my  blood."  S.  M. 

Blest  feast  of  love  divine  ! 

'T  is  grace  that  makes  us  free 
To  feed  upon  this  bread  and  wine, 

In  memory,  Lord,  of  thee. 

2  That  blood  which  flowed  for  sin, 
In  symbol  here  we  see, 

And  feel  the  blessed  pledge  within. 
That  we  are  loved  of  thee. 

3  Oh,  if  this  glimpse  of  love 
Be  so  divinely  sweet, 

What  will  it  be,  O  Lord,  above. 
Thy  gladdening  smile  to  meet? 

In  the  English  Hymns  of  S.  W.  Duffield 
we  are  told  of  a  request  made  by  the  author 
of  these  verses.  Sir  Edward  Denny ;  the  quo- 
tation is  made  from  the  preface  of  his  Hymns 
and  Poems,  third  edition,  1870 ;  there  he  says : 
"  Should  any  of  these  poems  or  hymns  be 
deemed  worthy  of  a  place  in  any  future  col- 
lections, they  may  be  left  as  they  are,  without 
alterations  or  abridgment .  And  also  (inas- 
much as  here  or  there  I  have  revised  them 
myself,  I  trust  for  the  better)  I  should  wish 
that  they  be  copied  from  this,  rather  than 
from  any  prerious  collection  wherein  they  are 
Jound!'  The  italics,  intensifying  his  expres- 
sion, are  his  own.  The  piece  now  before  us 
was  taken  from  his  Selection  of  Hymns,  1839, 
thirty-one  years  older  than  the  other ;  and 
the  change  of  "  Sweet  feast  "  to  "  Blest  feast 
of  love  divine  "  was  never  originated  by  the 
compiler  of  Laiidcs  Domini  ;  but  he  decidedly 
prefers  "  Blest  "  to  "  Sweet  "  in  the  situation, 
whoever  made  the  alteration.  The  reference 
is  made  to  Luke  22  :  19. 


1 003  "  The  banqueting  house."  S.  M. 

Jesus,  we  thus  obey 

Thy  last  and  kindest  word, 
And  in  thine  own  appointed  way 

We  come  to  meet  thee,  Lord ! 

2  Thus  we  remember  thee. 
And  take  this  bread  and  wine 

As  thine  own  dying  legacy, 
And  our  redemption's  sign. 

3  With  high  and  heavenly  bliss 
Thou  dost  our  spirits  cheer  ; 

Thy  house  of  banqueting  is  this. 
And  thou  hast  brought  us  here. 

4  Now  let  our  souls  be  fed 
With  manna  from  above, 

And  over  us  thy  banner  spread 
Of  everlasting  love. 

This  piece  is  usually  credited  to  the  Rev.  1005 
Charles  Wesley ;  but  the  fact  cannot  quite  be 
settled,  for  the  verses  appear  in  Hymns  on  the 
Lord's  Slipper,  1745  ;  a  book  issued  by  the 
brothers,  John  and  Charles,  and  the  contri- 
butions are  not  discriminated  precisely.  The 
style  may  perhaps  be  trusted  to  an  expert, 


The  hymn  is  entitled,  "  Before  Holy  Com- 
munion." Allusion  is  made  to  Solomon's 
Song  2  : 4. 

i  004  The  Church  is  Christ's.  7s,  6s.  D. 

The  Church's  one  foundation 

Is  Jesus  Christ  her  Lord  ; 
She  is  his  new  creation 

By  water  and  the  word  : 
From  heaven  he  came  and  sought  her, 

To  be  his  holy  bride  ; 
With  his  own  blood  he  bought  her, 

And  for  her  life  he  died. 

2  Elect  from  every  nation, 
Vet  one  o'er  all  the  earth, 

Her  charter  of  salvation 
One  Lord,  one  faith,  one  birth  ; 

One  holy  name  she  blesses, 
Partakes  one  holy  food, 

And  to  one  hope  she  presses. 
With  every  grace  endued. 

3  'Mid  toil  and  tribulation, 
And  tumult  of  her  war, 

She  waits  the  consummation 

Of  peace  for  evermore : 
Till  with  the  vision  glorious 

Her  longing  eyes  are  blest. 
And  the  great  Church  victorious 

Shall  be  the  Church  at  rest. 

4  Yet  she  on  earth  hath  union 
With  God  the  Three  in  One, 

And  mystic  sweet  communion 
With  those  whose  rest  is  won ; 

Oh,  happy  ones  and  holy ; 
Lord,  give  us  grace  that  we 

Like  them,  the  meek  and  lowly, 
On  high  may  dwell  with  thee. 

Another  of  Rev.  Samuel  John  Stone's 
hymns ;  this  likewise  has  had  a  historic  fame 
to  give  it  a  fine  reputation  as  a  popular  lyric. 
When  the  Pan-Anglican  Synod,  some  few 
years  ago,  was  held  in  St.  Paul's  in  London, 
the  whole  body  of  dignitaries  belonging  to 
the  English  Establishment  entered  the  cathe- 
dral, in  the  presence  of  an  immense  congre- 
gation which  rose  to  receive  the  procession, 
singing,  "  The  Church's  one  foundation  is 
Jesus  Christ  the  Lord  !"  It  was  "  like  the 
voice  of  many  waters."  The  hymn  was  pub- 
lished in  Lyra  Fidcliiim,  and  is  one  of  the 
twelve  pieces  founded  upon  the  Apostles 
Creed  of  which  that  small  book  consists ;  it 
it  set  to  the  phrase,  "  I  believe  in  the  Holy 
Catholic  Church."  Mr.  Stone  has  also  issued 
a  volume  entitled  The  Knight  of  Interces- 
sion and  other  Poems ;  this  has  reached 
many  editions,  and  in  1875  was  succeeded 
by  another,  Sonnets  of  the  Christian  Year. 


"  The  Living-  Bread." 

O  Bread,  to  pilgrims  given, 

O  food  that  angels  eat, 
O  manna,  sent  from  heaven. 

For  heaven-born  natures  meet ! 
Give  us,  for  thee  long  pining, 

To  eat  till  richly  filled  ; 
Till,  earth's  delights  resigning, 

Our  every  wish  is  stilled. 


7s,  6s.  D. 


428 


THE  CHURCH   OF  GOD. 


a  O  Water,  life-bestowing, 

From  out  the  Saviour's  neart ! 
A  fountain  purely  flowing, 

A  fount  ot  love  thou  art , 
Oh,  let  us,  freely  tasting, 

Our  burning  thirst  assuage! 
Thy  sweetness,  never  wasting. 

Avails  from  age  to  age. 

3  Jesus !  this  feast  receiving, 

We  thee  unseen  adore; 
Thy  faithful  word  believmg, 

We  take,  and  boubt  no  more : 
Give  us,  thon  trneand  loving! 

On  earth  to  live  in  thee ; 
Then,  death  the  vail  removing, 

Thy  glorious  face  to  see. 

This  fine  translation  of  the  Latin  poem, 
"  O  esca  viatorumy  was  made  by  Dr.  Ray 
Palmer  for  the  Sabbath  Hymn  Book,  1858. 
It  shows  his  wonderful  skill  in  versification, 
as  well  as  his  spiritual  alertness  in  choosing 
the  best  things  in  ancient  religious  poetry 
wherever  he  could  find  them.  These  versions 
of  his,  first  printed  in  that  collection,  are 
among  the  best  contributions  to  sacred  songs 
g^ven  to  the  churches  in  this  generation. 

It  is  not  certainly  known  who  composed 
the  Latin  original.  Some  have  named  St. 
Thomas  of  Aquino.  But  the  Dictionary  of 
Hymnology  says  it  "  was  probably  composed 
by  some  German  Jesuit  of  the  seventeenth 
century."     It  has  been  traced  back  to  1661. 

1 006  Three  Mountains.  7s. 

When  on  Sinai's  top  I  see 
God  descend,  in  majesty, 
To  proclaim  his  holy  law, 
All  my  spirit  sinks  with  awe. 

2  When,  in  ecstasy  sublime. 
Tabor's  glorious  steep  I  climb, 
At  the  too  transporting  light. 
Darkness  rushes  o'er  my  siglit. 

3  When  on  Calvary  I  rest, 
God,  in  flesh  made  manifest. 
Shines  in  my  Redeemer's  face. 
Full  of  beauty,  truth,  and  grace. 

4  Here  I  would  for  ever  stay. 
Weep  and  gaze  my  soul  away ; 
Thou  art  heaven  on  earth  to  me, 
Lovely,  mournful  Calvary  ! 

James  Montgomery  is  the  author  of  the 
hymn  before  us.  It  was  first  published  in 
Collyer's  Collection,  181 2.  In  the  poet's 
Original  Hymns  it  bears  the  title  "  The 
Three  Mountains."  The  teaching  of  the  Gos- 
pel as  contrasted  with  the  Law  is  frequently 
illustrated  by  the  use  of  Sinai  and  Calvary  as 
a  figure.  Calvary  was  not  much  of  a  moun- 
tain, and  some  do  not  accept  Tabor  as  the 
actual  locality  of  the  Transfiguration.  But 
the  introduction  of  Jesus  Christ's  manifesta- 
tion of  his  glory  as  the  one  link  that  vas 
needed  between  the  curse  and  the  crucifixion, 
is  rnatchless  in  its  doctrinal  felicity.  The 
Christ  of  God,  divine  and  luminous  with  the 


Godhead  itself,  was  necessitated  as  an  exhi- 
bition beforehand,  when  Jesus  of  Nazareth 
was  so  soon  to  bear  suffering,  shame,  and 
death  for  human  sin.  That  makes  "  lovely, 
mournful  Calvary,  heaven  on  earth." 

I  007  "  Lovest  thou  me  P"  ys. 

Hark  !  my  soul !  it  is  the  Lord  ; 
'T  is  thy  Saviour — hear  his  word  ; 
Jesus  speaks,  and  speaks  to  thee, 
"Say,  poor  sinner,  lovest  thou  me? 

2  "  I  delivered  thee  when  bound. 

And  when  bleeding,  healed  thy  wound : 
Soug:ht  thee  wandering,  set  thee  right, 
Turned  thy  darkness  into  light. 

3  "  Can  a  woman's  tender  care 
Cease  towards  the  child  she  bare? 
Yes,  she  may  forgetful  be. 

Yet  will  I  remember  thee. 

4  "  Mine  is  an  unchanging  love. 
Higher  than  the  heights  above  ; 
Deeper  than  the  depths  beneath — 
Free  and  faithful — strong  as  death. 

5  "  Thou  shalt  see  my  glory  soon. 
When  the  work  of  grace  is  done  ; 
Partner  of  my  throne  shalt  be  ! 
Say,  poor  sinner  !  lovest  thou  me  ?" 

6  Lord  !  it  is  my  chief  complaint 
That  my  love  is  weak  and  faint ; 
Yet  I  love  thee,  and  adore; — 
Oh,  for  grace  to  love  thee  more. 

This  familier  poem  of  William  Cowper  was 
published  in  Ma.xfield's  N^ew  Appendix,  1768. 
Afterward  the  author  incorporated  it  in  the 
Olney Hymns,  1779.  It  is  entitled,  "Lovest 
thou  me  ?"  Allusion  is  made  to  Simon  Peter's 
reclamation  at  the  Sea  of  Galilee:  John  21  : 
16.  The  aptness  of  the  author  of  English 
Hymns  is  nowhere  shown  more  felicitously 
than  in  his  quotation  at  this  point  of  the 
words  of  Archdeacon  Farrar :  "  And  when  I 
think  on  all  this,  when  I  remember  tb.at  love 
is  '  not  so  much  a  virtue  as  a  substratum  of 
all  virtues,  the  virtue  of  virtue,  the  goodness 
of  goodness;'  when  I  think  that  'God is  lave ;' 
when  I  read  that  amid  the  unnumbered  choirs 
of  heaven,  each  shall  retain  his  individual  life, 
and  have  a  name  which  none  knoweth  save 
himself ;  when  I  see  the  latent  germs  and 
possibilities  of  goodness  which  exist  even  in 
the  worst ;  when  I  think  that  a  wretched,  sin- 
ful man  is  but  the  marred  clay  of  some  sweet, 
innocent,  and  lovely  child ;  when  I  read  how 
Jesus  so  loved  our  race  that  he  left  the  glory 
of  heaven  to  die  amid  its  execration ;  when 
the  Gospel  tells  me  who  it  is  that  searches  for 
the  lost  sheep  until  he  finds  it ;  ivho  wept  on 
the  neck  of  the  prodigal ;  who  suffered  the 
harlot  to  bathe  his  feet  with  tears ;  who  prayed 
for  his  murderers ;  who  with  one  look  of  ten- 
derness broke  the  heart  of  his  backsliding 
apostle  ;  who  in  one  flash  of  forgiveness  made 
of  the  crucified  robber  a  saint  of  God ;  wher* 


THE   lord's  supper. 


429 


the  boundless  promises  of  Scripture  crowd 
upon  my  mind  ;  wiien  I  recall  the  hymn  which 
we  sing : 

'  Mine  is  an  unclianging  love, 
Higher  than  the  heights  above, 
Deeper  than  the  depths  beneath, 
True  and  faithful,  strong  as  death ;' 

when  I  read  that  God  will  not  forget  his 
people  though  the  mother  may  forget  her 
sucking  child,  then  there  come  into  my  mind 
two  thoughts :  of  hope  for  ourselves,  and  of 
hope  for  all  the  world  !" 

1  008  ' '  Thy  people  shall  be  my  people. "  7s. 

People  of  the  living  God, 
I  have  sought  the  world,  around, 

Paths  of  sin  and  sorrow  trod, 
Peace  and  comfort  nowhere  found. 

2  Now  to  you  my  spirit  turns — 
Turns,  a  fugitive  unblest  ; 

Brethren,  where  your  altar  burns, 
Oh,  receive  me  into  rest  I 

3  Lonely  I  no  longer  roam, 

Like  the  cloud,  the  wind,  the  wave; 
Where  you  dwell  shall  be  my  home, 
Where  you  die  shall  be  my  grave — 

4  Mine  the  God  whom  you  adore, 
Your  Redeemer  shall  be  mine; 

Earth  can  fill  my  soul  no  more, 
Every  idol  I  resign. 

It  is  asserted  of  this  hymn,  composed  by 
James  Montgomery,  that  in  all  probability  it 
was  written  on  the  occasion  of  his  being 
publicly  recognized  as  a  member  of  the  Mo- 
ravian Society  at  the  close  of  18 14.  It  was 
included  in  Cotterill's  ScIcctio7i,  18 19,  with 
the  title  "  Choosing  the  Portion  of  God's 
Heritage."  The  point  of  the  hymn  is  in  the 
covenant  that  the  followers  of  Christ  shall  be 
chosen  as  the  companions  of  one's  daily  life, 
rather  than  those  who  are  unconverted  ;  and 
an  open  profession  is  thus  made  before  the 
world  of  faith  in  the  Master.  Confessing 
Christ  is  one  of  the  means  by  which  the 
world  is  to  be  evangelized.  It  is  told  of  a 
young  soldier,  that,  when  in  barracks,  he 
knelt  down  to  pray  before  going  to  bed,  his 
fifteen  companions  began  to  jeer,  some  even 
going  so  far  as  to  throw  various  articles  at 
him.  Undeterred  by  this  treatment,  he  con- 
tinued to  kneel  night  after  night,  and  soon 
he  was  surprised  to  find  his  companions,  one 
after  the  other,  steal  to  his  side  and  kneel 
with  him.  By  his  faithful  confession  of  Je- 
sus, that  soldier  won  all  his  companions  to 
the  Lord.  A  Christian  student  in  one  of  our 
colleges  was  brought  into  contact  with  one 
who  was  an  avowed  unbeliever.  He  was 
anxious  to  bring  him  back  from  the  dreary 
waste  of  skepticism,  but  the  other  resisted 
every  attempt  to  entice  him  into  argument. 
Seeing  this,  the  Christian  changed  his  plan ; 


he  associated  with  him  as  before,  but  con- 
tented himself,  whenever  the  question  of  re- 
ligion was  introduced,  with  coniessing  his 
own  confidence  in  Christ,  and  indirectly 
contrasting  it  with  the  uncertainty  of  imbe- 
lief.  Soon  his  companion  began  to  show 
some  anxiety  regarding  religion  ;  at  last  one 
day  he  came  and  said  :  "  Your  way  of  speak- 
ing showed  me  the  superiority  of  faith  over 
doubt.  I  have  been  privately  studying  Chris- 
tianity, and  I  come  to  tell  you  that  1  have 
laid  all  my  doubts  at  the  feet  of  Christ !"  In 
this  case,  a  skeptic  was  brought  to  Jesus,  not 
by  argument,  but  by  the  confession  of  Christ 
in  the  conduct  of  life. 

1 009  ^'Christ,  our  passover,"  7s. 

At  the  Lamb's  high  feast  we  sing 
Praise  to  our  victorious  King, 
Who  hath  washed  us  in  the  tide 
Flowing  from  his  wounded  side. 

2  Where  the  Paschal  blood  is  poured, 
Death's  dark  angel  sheathes  his  swor4 ; 
Israel's  hosts  triumphant  go 
Through  the  wave  that  drowns  the  foe. 

3  Christ,  our  Paschal  Lamb,  is  slain. 
Holy  victim,  without  stain  ; 
Death  and  hell  defeated  lie. 
Heaven  unfolds  its  gates  on  high. 

4  Hymns  of  glory  and  of  praise. 
Father,  unto  thee  we  raise: 
Risen  Lord,  all  praise  to  thee. 
With  the  Spirit,  ever  be. 

Another  of  Robert  Campbell's  versions,  1849, 
and  first  printed  in  St.  Andrew  s  Hymnal, 
1850,  given  as  a  communion  hymne  and  ser- 
viceable particularly  in  identifying  the  Lord's 
Supper  with  the  Passover  feast  at  the  celebra- 
tion of  which  the  New  Testament  institution 
was  founded  by  the  Saviour.  The  Latin 
piece  of  which  it  is  given  as  a  translation,  ''Ad 
regias  AgJii  dapes"  \?,  in  the  Paris  Breinary  ; 
this  is,  so  Mr.  S.  W.  Duffield  says,  a  sixth 
century  form  of  an  older  hymn  which  has 
sometimes  been  ascribed  to  Ambrose,  and 
was  known  at  Sarum. 

1010  "  This  is  my  Body."  7s. 
Bread  of  heaven !  on  thee  we  feed. 

For  thy  flesh  is  meat  indeed  : 

Ever  let  our  souls  be  fed 

With  this  true  and  living  bread ! 

2  Vine  of  heaven  !  thy  blood  supplies 
This  blest  cup  of  sacrifice  : 

Lord  !  thy  wounds  our  healing  give. 
To  thy  cross  we  look  and  live. 

3  Day  by  day,  with  strength  supplied. 
Through  the  life  of  him  who  died  : 
Lord  of  life  !  oh,  let  us  be. 

Rooted,  grafted,  built  on  thee! 

Josiah  Conder  included  this  hymn  of  his 
own  composition  in  his  book  bearing  the  name 
of   The  Star  in  the  East,  and  Other  Poems, 


430 


THE   CHURCH    OF   GOD. 


1824.     He  entitled  it,  "  For  the   Eucharist." 
and  referred  to  John  6  :  51-54,  and  John  15:1. 

101  I  Wounded  for  us.  7s. 

Jesus,  Master!  hear  me  now, 
While  I  would  renew  my  vow, 
And  record  thy  dying;  love; 
Hear,  and  help  me  from  above. 

2  Feed  me.  Saviour,  with  this  bread, 
Broken  in  thy  body's  stead ; 

Cheer  my  spirit  with  this  wine, 
Streaming  like  that  blood  of  thine. 

3  And  as  now  I  eat  and  drink, 
Let  me  truly,  sweetly  think. 
Thou  didst  hang  upon  the  tree. 
Broken,  bleeding,  there — for  me ! 

So  meager  are  the  facts  to  be  obtained 
concerning  this  hymn,  that  we  can  say  only 
that  it  appears  to  have  been  first  printed  in 
the  Presbyterian  collection  of  Devotional 
Hymns,  published  in  Philadelphia,  Pa.,  in 
1842. 

10(2  "  Thine  for  ever."  7s. 

Thine  forever!  God  of  love, 
Hear  us  from  thy  throne  above! 
Thine  for  ever  may  we  be, 
Here  and  in  eternity ! 

2  Thine  for  ever!  oh,  how  blest 
They  who  find  in  thee  their  rest ! 
Saviour,  Guardian,  heavenly  Friend, 
Oh,  defend  us  to  the  end  I 

3  Thine  for  ever  !  Saviour,  keep 
These  thy  frail  and  trembling  sheep  ; 
Safe  alone  beneath  thy  care, 

Let  us  all  thy  goodness  share. 

4  Thine  for  ever  !  thou  our  Guide — 
All  our  wants  by  thee  supplied  - 
All  our  sins  by  thee  forgiven — 
Lead  us,  Lord,  from  earth  to  heaven  ! 

In  Episcopal  Churches  on  both  sides  of 
the  sea  the  Hymn  before  us  is  very  generally 
used  in  Confirmation  services.  It  was  writ- 
ten by  Mrs.  Mary  Fawler  Maude  in  1847, 
and  printed  in  her  Twelve  Letters  on  Cotifir- 
inatwn,  1848,  a  small  volume  issued  for  the 
benefit  of  the  author's  Sunday-School  class. 
Mrs.  Maude  is  the  daughter  of  George 
Henry  Hooper,  of  Stanmore,  Middlesex, 
England.  She  was  married  in  1841,  to  Rev. 
Joseph  Maude,  vicar  of  Chirk,  North  Wales, 
who  was  also  an  honorary  canon  of  St. 
Asaph's.  Besides  the  book  above  mentioned, 
this  writer  has  published  Memorials  of  Past 
Years,  which  was  privately  printed  in  1852. 


1013 


Christ  the  Foundation." 


9s,  8s. 


O  Rock  of  ages,  one  foundation. 
On  which  the  living  church  doth  rest— 

The  church,  whose  walls  are  strong  salvation, 
Whose  gates  are  praise— thy  name  be  blest ! 

2  Son  of  the  living  God  !  oh,  callus 

Once  and  again  to  follow  thee; 
And  give  us  strength,  whate'er  befall  us. 

Thy  true  disciples  still  to  be. 


3  And  if  our  coward  hearts  deny  thee. 
In  inmost  thought,  in  deed,  or  word, 

Let  not  our  hardness  still  defy  thee. 
But  with  a  look  subdue  us,  Lord. 

4  Oh,  strengthen  thou  our  weak  endeavor 
Thee  in  thy  sheep  to  serve  and  tend. 

To  give  ourselves  to  thee  for  ever, 
And  find  thee  with  us  to  the  end. 

Rev.  Henry  Arthur  Martin,  M.  A.,  was  born 
at  Exeter,  England,  July  30,  1831,  and  studied 
at  Eton,  and  Christ  Church,  Oxford,  graduat- 
ing in  1855.  He  took  Holy  Orders  immedi- 
ately and  became  curate  of  Hallow,  near 
Worcester,  in  1856.  Two  years  later  he  was 
appointed  Vicar  of  Laxton  with  Moorhouse, 
Nottinghamshire.  Mr.  Martin  is  known  in 
hymnology  by  some  contributions  to  Chttrch 
Hymns,  1871,  the  one  quoted  here  being 
among  the  most  generally  used. 

1014  "  The  livingBread."  gs,  8s. 

Bread  of  the  world,  in  mercy  broken. 
Wine  of  the  soul,  in  mercy  shed. 

By  whom  the  words  of  life  were  spoken. 
And  in  whose  death  our  sins  are  dead — 

2  Look  on  the  heart  by  sorrow  broken. 
Look  on  the  tears  by  sinners  shed  ; 

And  be  thy  feast  to  us  the  token 
That  by  thy  grace  our  souls  are  fed. 

From  Hymns  Written  and  Adapted  to  the 
Chttrch  Service  of  the  Year,  by  Bishop  Regi- 
nald Heber,  1827.  This  piece  was  published 
after  the  poet's  death.  It  is  entitled,  "  Before 
the  Sacrament."  It  never  had  but  these  two 
stanzas  in  odd  meter,  but  it  has  gone  around 
the  world. 

101  5  "  Beneath  his  shadow."  7s,  6s. 

Sit  down  beneath  his  shadow. 

And  rest  with  great  delight ; 
The  faith  that  now  beholds  him 

Is  pledge  of  future  sight. 

2  Our  Master's  love  remember. 
Exceeding  great  and  free  ; 

Lift  up  thy  heart  in  gladness. 
For  he  remembers  thee. 

3  Bring  every  weary  burden. 
Thy  sin,  thy  fear,  thy  grief; 

He  calls  the  heavy  laden 
And  gives  them  kind  relief. 

4  His  righteousness  "all  glorious" 
Thy  festal  robe  shall  be ; 

And  love  that  passeth  knowledge 
His  banner  over  thee. 

5  A  little  while,  though  parted. 
Remember,  wait,  and  love, 

Until  he  comes  in  glory, 
Until  we  meet  above — 

6  Till  in  the  Father's  kingdom 
The  heavenly  feast  is  spread. 

And  we  behold  his  beauty. 
Whose  blood  for  us  was  shed  ! 

Miss  Frances  Ridley  Havergal  wrote  this 
hymn  in  1870,  and  published  it  in  Under  the 
Surface,  1874.  It  is  founded  upon  Canticles 
2  : 3,  and  is  entitled  "  Under  His  Shadow."    It 


THE  LORDS'   SUPPER. 


431 


shows  the  deep  and  full  content  to  which  she 
had  then  come  in  her  appreciation  of  an  ordi- 
nance that  used  to  .8;-ive  her  a  kind  of  alarm  or 
positive  distress,  She  has  entered  this  record 
in  her   autobiography : 

"  One  subject  often  occupied  my  mind  in 
these  years  which  would  seem  unusual  for  a 
child — the  Lord's  Supper.  After  coming  to 
St.  Nicholas  almost  every  monthly  sacrament 
made  me  thoughtful.  I  begged  to  be  allowed 
to  stay  in  the  church  and  see  it  administered 
'  only  once ;'  but  this  apparently  mere  curios- 
ity was  not  gratified,  so  I  used  to  go  round 
to  the  vestry  and  listen  to  the  service  through 
the  door.  One  Sunday  the  hymn  '  My  God, 
and  is  thy  table  spread  } '  was  sung  before 
the  sermon  ;  it  quite  upset  me,  and  I  cried  vio- 
lently, though,  being  in  a  corner  of  the  pew, 
I  managed  to  conceal  it." 

She  had  begun  to  know  the  "  love  that 
passeth  knowledge,"  and  this  was  the  banner 
over  her  soul. 

1016  "  None  other  name.''''  7s,  6s.  D. 

I  LAY  my  sins  on  Jesus, 

The  spotless  Lamb  of  God  : 
He  bears  them  all,  and  frees  us 

From  the  accursed  load  ; 

1  bring  my  guilt  to  Jesus, 
To  wash  my  crimson  stains 

White  in  his  blood  most  precious 
Till  not  a  stain  remains. 

2  I  lay  my  wants  on  Jesus ; 
All  fullness  dwells  in  him  ; 

He  healeth  my  diseases, 

He  doth  my  soul  redeem  : 
I  lay  my  griefs  on  Jesus, 

My  burdens  and  my  cares ; 
He  from  them  all  releases, 

He  all  my  sorrows  shares. 

3  I  long  to  be  like  Jesus, 
Meek,  loving,  lowly,  mild; 

I  long  to  be  like  Jesus, 

The  Feather's  holy  child. 
I  long  to  be  like  Jesus, 

Amid  the  heavenly  throng ; 
To  sing  with  saints  his  praises, 

And  learn  the  angels'  song. 

Dr.  Horatius  Bonar  always  had  a  special 
influence  over  the  young.  His  winning  man- 
ner and  gentle  tones  caught  their  attention, 
and  his  weighty  words  impressed  their  hearts. 
His  Sabbath-school  services  in  Kelso  are  still 
remembered  with  delight.  He  wrote  for  each 
service  a  hymn,  which  was  sung  by  the  boys 
and  girls.  These  hymns  have  since  found 
their  way  to  most  Sabbath-schools.  Among 
them  were  such  favorites  as  "  I  lay  my  sins 
on  Jesus,"  "  I  was  a  wandering  sheep,"  "  A 
few  more  years  shaii  roll."  After  the  singing 
came  a  short  address,  in  which  the  love  of 
Christ  was  told.  These  hours  among  the 
lambs  of  the  flock  were  full  of  pleasure. 
They  gave  rest  to  the  pastor,  and  were  at- 


tended with  the  best  results.  Hymn  succeed- 
ed hymn,  and  some  of  them  are  scattered 
over  the  globe  in  millions.  There  are  few 
honors  on  earth  equal  to  that  of  giving  har- 
monious utterance  to  the  deepest  thoughts  of 
God's  children.  A  sermon  does  its  work  and 
passes,  but  a  true  hymn  is  sung  and  sung, 
and  sung  again  through  many  generations. 
This  particular  piece  is  found  as  far  back  as 
the  first  series  of  Songs  in  the  Wilderness, 
published  by  Dr.  Bonar  in  1843.  It  is  one  of 
his  earliest  compositions,  and  has  proved  to 
be  one  of  the  most  popular.  Its  title  is  "  The 
Substitute." 


I0i7 


'  I  need  thee." 


7s,  6s.  D. 


I  NEED  thee,  precious  Jesus! 

For  I  am  full  of  sin  ; 
My  soul  is  dark  and  guilty. 

My  heart  is  dead  within  ; 

1  need  the  cleansing  fountain. 
Where  I  can  always  flee. 

The  blood  of  Christ  most  precious, 
The  sinner's  perfect  plea. 

2  I  need  thee,  blessed  Jesus  ! 
For  I  am  very  poor; 

A  stranger  and  a  pilgrim, 

I  have  no  earthly  store  ; 
I  need  the  love  of  Jesus 

To  cheer  me  on  my  way, 
To  guide  my  doubting  footsteps, 

To  be  my  strength  and  stay. 

3  I  need  thee,  blessed  Jesus  ! 
And  hope  to  see  thee  soon, 

Encircled  with  the  rainbow 

And  seated  on  thy  throne  : 
There,  with  thy  blood-bought  children. 

My  joy  shall  ever  be 
To  sing  thy  praise.  Lord  Jesus, 

To  gaze,  my  Lord,  on  thee! 

Written  by  Rev.  Frederick  Whitfield,  and 
entitled  "  Longing  for  Jesus."  It  was  first 
given  to  the  public  on  a  mere  sheet  for  distri- 
bution in  1855;  then  it  was  included  in  the 
author's  Sacred  Poe7ns  aftd  Prose,  1861.  It 
has  been  popular  and  very  useful  everywhere. 
Translations  of  it  have  been  made  into  Ara- 
bic, French,  Dutch,  and  German. 


I O  f  8  "  Lauda,  Si'on,  Sa/vatorem." 

SiON,  to  thy  Saviour  singing. 

To  thy  Prince  and  Shepherd  bringing 

Sweetest  hymns  of  love  and  praise, 
Yet  thou  shalt  not  reach  the  measure 
Of  his  worth,  by  all  the  treasure 

Of  thy  most  ecstatic  lays ! 

2  Of  all  wonders  that  can  thrill  thee, 
And  with  adoration  fill  thee, 

What  than  this  can  greater  be. 
That  himself  to  thee  he  giveth? — 
He  in  faith  that  eateth,  liveth — 

For  the  bread  of  life  is  he. 

3  Fill  thy  lips  to  overflowing 

With  sweet  praise,  his  mercy  showing, 

Who  this  heavenly  table  spread. 
On  this  day  so  glad  and  holy, 
To  each  hungering  spirit  lowly 
Giveth  he  the  living  bread. 


P.M. 


432 


THE  CHURCH   OF  GOD. 


This  is  a  translation  by  Rev.  Alexander 
Ramsay  Thompson,  D.  D.,  who  was  born  at 
New  York,  October  i6,  1822,  and  educated 
at  the  University  of  his  native  city  and  at 
Princeton  Seminary,  graduating  from  the  lat- 
ter in  1845.  He  entered  the  ministry,  and 
became  pastor  of  the  Presbyterian  church  at 
Stapleton,  Staten  Island,  from  1851  to  1859. 
Afterward  he  joined  the  Reformed  Dutch 
■Church,  and  held  pastorates  in  New  York 
and  Brooklyn,  becoming  acting  pastor  of 
Bethany  Chapel  in  the  latter  city  in  1885. 
Dr.  Thompson  was  joint  editor  of  the  Re- 
formed Dutch  book.  Hymns  of  the  Church, 
1869,  and  also  of  Hymns  of  Prayer  and 
Praise,  1 87 1 ,  to  both  of  which  he  contributed 
original  poems  as  well  as  translations. 

The  Latin  Sequence  from  which  this  hymn 
is  taken  was  the  work  of  St.  Thomas  Aqui- 
nas, and  is  supposed  to  have  been  written 
about  1 260,  for  the  festival  of  Corpus  Christi. 
It  is  found  in  a  French  missal  of  the  latter 
part  of  the  thirteenth  century,  and  also  in  one 
of  a  little  later  date,  which  is  in  the  British 
Museum.  It  is  of  great  interest  as  a  histori- 
cal document,  and  is  characterized  by  a  har- 
monious and  rhythmic  flow  of  verse.  The 
translation  by  Dr.  Thompson  first  appeared 
in  the  American  Sunday-School  Times,  1883. 

1019  The  King's  Table.  P.M. 

Here  the  King  hath  spread  his  table, 
Whereon  eyes  of  faith  are  able. 

Christ  the  passover  to  trace. 
Shadows  of  the  law  are  ^oing. 
Light  and  life  and  truth  inflowing, 

Night  to  day  is  giving  place. 

2  Lo,  this  angels'  food  descending 
Heavenly  love  is  hither  sending, 

Pilgrim  lips  on  earth  to  feed. 
So  the  paschal  lamb  was  given, 
So  the  manna  came  from  heaven, 

This  the  manna  is  indeed. 

3  O  good  Shepherd,  bread  life-giving, 
Us,  thy  grace  and  life  receiving, 

Feed  and  shelter  evermore ! 
Thou  on  earth  our  weakness  guiding. 
We  in  heaven  with  thee  abiding. 

With  all  saints  will  thee  adore. 

This  hymn  is  a  portion  of  the  Latin  poem 
from  which  the  preceding  translation  was 
made  by  Rev.  Dr.  Thompson.  The  original 
consists  of  twelve  stanzas  of  varying  length, 
the  fragment  here  given  being  an  adaptation 
of  two  of  them.  The  author,  St.  Thomas 
Aquinas,  is  often  called  "The  Angelical 
Doctor,"  because  "  of  the  extraordinary  gift  of 
understanding  wherewith  God  had  blessed 
him."  He  was  the  child  of  noble  parents, 
his  father  being  the  Count  of  Aquino.  His 
birth  is  supposed  to  have  been  in  1227;  at 
the  age  of  five  years  he  was  placed  in  a  Ben- 


edictine monastery  at  Monte  Cassino  to  be 
educated.  Later  he  studied  at  Naples,  Paris, 
and  Rome,  achieving  everywhere  a  high  rep- 
utation for  learning  and  piety.  He  entered 
the  Dominican  order,  and  his  influence  was 
so  great  that  Louis  IX.  of  France  insisted 
upon  his  becoming  a  member  of  the  Council 
of  State,  where  his  advice  was  supreme.  His 
life  was  one  of  incessant  labor  as  a  writer, 
lecturer,  and  preacher,  with  much  fatiguing 
travel,  and  he  died  at  Terracina,  in  Italy, 
March  7,  1274. 

1 020  Beside  the  Cross.  P.  M. 

By  the  cross  of  Jesus  standing, 
Love  our  straitened  souls  expanding, 

Taste  we  now  the  peace  and  grace  ! 
Health  from  yonder  tree  is  flowmg, 
Heavenly  light  is  on  it  glowing. 

From  the  blessed  Sufferer's  face. 

2  Here  is  pardon's  pledge  and  token. 
Guilt's  strong  chain  for  ever  broken. 

Righteous  peace  securely  made. 
Brightens  now  the  brow,  once  shaded, 
Freshens  now  the  face,  once  faded, 

Peace  with  God  now  makes  us  glad. 

3  All  the  love  of  God  is  yonder, 
Love  above  all  thought  and  wonder, 

Perfect  love  that  casts  out  fear  ! 
Strength  like  dew,  is  here  distilling 
Glorious  life  our  souls  is  filling — 

Life  eternal,  only  here ! 

4  Here  the  living  water  welleth. 
Here  the  rock  now  smitten,  telleth 

Of  salvation  freely  given. 
This  the  fount  of  love  and  pity, 
This  the  pathway  to  the  City, 

This  the  very  gate  of  heaven. 

One  of  Dr.  Horatius  Bonar's  very  best 
compositions.  It  may  be  found  in  Hymns  of 
Faith  and  Hope,  Third  Series,  1867.  The 
story  is  told  over  and  over  of  a  great  painting 
of  Jesus  in  the  agony  of  crucifixion.  We 
find  it  in  Colonel  Gardiner's  Biography,  in 
Zinzendorf's  Life ;  Norton  tells  it  anew  in  his 
Golden  Truths;  always  the  same,  always 
different.  But  Gardiner  sees  it,  and  it  seems 
to  say,  "  This  have  I  done  for  thee — w^hat 
hast  thou  done  for  me .'"  And  Zinzendorf  sees 
it,  and  it  seems  to  say  the  same  to  him.  And 
the  "  gipsy  girl  "  sees  it,  and  it  seems  to  say 
the  same  to  her.  In  each  case  the  sinner's 
soul  is  pierced  with  conviction.  "  All  the 
love  of  God  is  yonder  !" 

1021  "  His  house  of  wine.''' 

Oh,  Christ,  he  is  the  fountain, 

The  deep,  sweet  well  of  love! 
The  streams  on  earth  I  've  tasted, 

More  deep!  'II  drink  above: 
There,  to  an  ocean  fullness, 

His  mercy  doth  expand, 
And  glory,  glory  dwelleth 

In  Immanuel's  land. 
2  Oh,  I  am  my  Beloved's, 

And  my  BelovWs  mine! 
He  brings  a  poor  vile  sinner 

Into  "  his  house  of  wine!" 


P.M. 


THE   lord's   supper. 


433 


I  stand  upon  his  merit, 

I  know  no  other  stand, 
Not  ev'n  where  glor>'  dwelleth 

In  Immanuel's  land. 

3  The  bride  eyes  not  her  garment, 

But  her  dear  Bridegroom's  face; 
I  will  not  gaze  at  glory, 

But  on  my  King  of  Grace- 
Not  at  the  crown  he  givelh. 

But  on  his  pierced  hand — 
The  Lamb  is  all  the  glory 

Of  Immanuel's  landL 

The  Rev.  Samuel  Rutherford  was  bom  in 
1600.  at  Nisbet,  Roxburghshire,  in  Scotland; 
he  died  at  St.  Andrew's,  March  20,  1661. 
The  story  of  his  life  has  been  often  told,  and 
is  remembered  now  with  an  unusual  tender- 
ness wherever  the  English  language  is  spoken 
or  the  history  of  the  times  of  the  ancient  cov- 
enant is  revered.  He  was  educated  in  Edin- 
burgh, and  in  1621  received  the  degree  of 
Master  of  Arts ;  soon  after  this  he  was  ap- 
pointed Professor  of  Humanity  in  that  great 
center  of  Scottish  literary  life.  But  he  seems 
to  have  preferred  to  preach  the  gospel ;  for 
his  name  disappears  from  the  office  four  years 
later.  Then  we  find  him  engaged  in  the 
study  of  theology  ;  then  the  scant  annals  of 
his  early  career  announce  that  he  was  settled 
in  the  town  of  Anworth  as  an  impressive  and 
able  minister.  In  one  of  his  fugitive  pieces. 
Dean  Stanley  is  very  happy  in  giving  this  re- 
markable man  an  introduction  to  us. 

It  seems  that  an  English  merchant  had 
been  attending  divine  service  at  St.  Andrew's, 
and  he  said  :  "  I  heard  one  sweet,  majestic- 
looking  preacher,  and  he  showed  me  the  maj- 
esty of  God ;  afterward,  1  heard  one  little  fair 
man,  and  he  showed  me  the  loveliness  of 
Christ."  And  this  last  man,  remarks  Dean 
Stanley,  was  Samuel  Rutherford,  "  the  true 
saint  of  the  Scottish  Covenant."  By  this 
epithet  of  description  has  the  individual  been 
for  ever  honored  and  graced  by  our  great 
modern  scholar. 

Of  the  small  town  where  he  earliest  minis- 
tered little  is  known  ;  for  it  has  been  .swept 
across  by  the  centralization  of  the  villages 
into  cities,  and  the  neighborhood  is  now  much 
less  rural  than  it  was  two  hundred  years 
ago.  The  tourist  passes  the  spot  on  the 
route  across  to  Stranraer  from  Dumfries, 
skirting  the  extreme  southern  coast  of  Scotch 
territory.  Leaving  a  village  called  Gatehouse, 
which  the  Murrays  cover  and  furnish  with 
their  ample  estates,  one  catches  a  glimpse  of 
the  old  tower  of  Cardoness  on  the  right  of 
the  path  ;  and  then,  close  by,  about  a  mile  off 
the  road,  in  a  secluded  little  valley,  is  a  pictur- 
esque ivy-covered  ruin  ;  this  is  all  that  is  now 
left  of   the  Anworth  Church,  where  Samuel 


Rutherford  lived  and  labored.  He  loved  this 
little  parish  with  all  his  heart.  Of  his  home 
there  he  once  said  in  a  letter :  "  There  did  1 
wrestle  with  the  angel  and  prevail  ;  woods, 
trees,  meadows,  and  hills  are  my  witnesses 
that  I  drew  on  a  fair  match  between  Christ 
and  Anworth." 

But  the  calmness  of  his  rural  retreat  was 
destined  to  be  broken.  He  is  called  higher. 
Before  long  he  issues  a  theological  volume, 
which  is  pronounced  so  fine  that  it  gains  him 
an  invitation  to  become  a  professor  on  the 
Continent ;  he  is  asked  to  Utrecht,  and  also 
to  Hardewyck.  His  real  troubles  began  the 
next  year.  He  was  attracting  notice  evi- 
dently as  a  divine,  and  making  himself 
dreaded  as  a  writer.  On  July  27,  1636,  he  re- 
ceived a  citation  to  appear  before  the  Court 
of  High  Commission  to  answer  to  his  non- 
conformity to  the  acts  of  Episcopacy  in  Scot- 
land. He  was  subsequently  deprived  of  his 
parish  in  Anworth,  and  a  trying  period  suc- 
ceeded, during  which  he  was  banished  to 
Aberdeen.  But  before  long  in  the  swift  con- 
fusions of  the  time,  the  changes  of  which 
can  hardly  be  followed  intelligently  at  this  re- 
mote distance,  the  covenanting  party  in  the 
realm  gained  the  ascendancy,  and  Rutherford 
came  back  to  his  old  charge.  This  was  in 
1638,  and  in  1639  he  was  made  one  of  the 
professors  in  St.  Andrew's;  and  in  1643  he 
was  sent  to  London  as  a  member  of  the 
historic  Westminster  Assembly,  where  he 
served  the  Scotch  Church  faithfully  for  four 
serious  and  perilous  years.  He  wrote  several 
volumes,  among  which  was  the  famous  pam- 
phlet entitled  Lex  Rex.  It  was  his  lot  to  see 
that  treatise  burned  publicly  under  his  win- 
dows after  the  Restoration  in  .  1660.  The 
Committee  of  Estates  paid  the  highest  com- 
pliment in  their  power  to  its  effectiveness  by 
flashing  the  fire  of  its  burning  against  the 
walls  of  St.  Andrew's.  But  this  was  nothing 
of  itself ;  only  it  led  the  way  to  further  and 
more  bitter  persecutions.  He  was  abruptly 
deprived  of  his  offices,  and  cited  to  appear  be- 
fore the  next  Parliament  on  the  charge  of 
high  treason.  This  received  a  characteristic 
answer.  He  was  ill,  and  soon  was  dying. 
He  sent  his  final  word  back  to  the  court :  "  I 
am  summoned  before  a  higher  court  and  judi- 
catory ;  that  first  summons  I  behoove  to  an- 
swer ;  and  ere  a  few  days  arrive,  I  shall  be 
where  few  kings  and  great  folks  come." 

These  meager  facts  are  all  that  are  neces- 
sary to  render  clear  to  the  students  of  hym- 
nology  why  we  attribute  to  Samuel  R  utherf  ord 
as  the  author  those  matchless  stanzas  which 
we  admit  were  written  by  a  Scotch  lady  in 
•28 


434 


THE  CHURCH   OF  GOD. 


Melrose,  and  were  published  as  lately  as  1857 
in  The  Christian  Treasury.  Mrs.  Anne 
Ross  Cousin,  the  truly  gifted  daughter  of  Dr. 
David  Ross  Cundell  of  Leith,  married  after- 
wards to  the  Rev.  William  Cousin,  an  hon- 
ored clergyman  of  the  Free  Church  of  Scot- 
land, composed  the  poem  of  nineteen  double 
verses  called  "  Glory  dwelleth  in  Immanuel's 
Land,"  now  published  in  tracts  all  over  the 
world.  But  the  thoughts  contained  in  it,  and 
most  of  the  peculiar  expressions  among  the 
lines,  were  uttered  by  Samuel  Rutherford 
himself  while  he  was  lying  on  his  death-bed. 

1022  "  The  living  Bread."  7s.  3I, 

Jesus,  to  thy  table  led, 
Now  let  every  heart  be  fed 
With  the  true  and  living  bread. 

2  While  in  penitence  we  kneel, 
Thy  sweet  presence  let  us  feel, 
All  thy  wondrous  love  reveal ! 

3  While  on  thy  dear  cross  we  g^e, 
Mourning  o'er  our  sinful  ways, 
Turn  our  sadness  into  praise ! 

4  When  we  taste  the  mystic  wine. 
Of  thine  outpoured  blood  the  sign. 
Fill  our  hearts  with  love  divine ! 

5  From  the  bonds  of  sin  release, 
Cold  and  wavering  faith  increase, 
Lamb  of  God,  grant  us  thy  peace! 

6  Lead  us  by  thy  pierced  hand. 
Till  around  thy  throne  we  stand. 
In  the  bright  and  better  land. 

Rev.  Robert  Hall  Baynes,  M.  A.,  was  born 
at  Wellington,  Somerset,  England,  March  lo, 
1 83 1,  and  educated  at  Oxford,  graduating  B. 
A.  in  1856.  He  was  ordained  in  1855,  and 
was  curate  first  at  Christ  Church,  Blackfriars, 
afterwards  at  Whitechapel,  Maidstone,  and 
Coventry.  He  was  designated  Bishop  of 
Madagascar  in  1870,  but  declined  the  next 
year,  and  in  1873  received  the  appointment  of 
Honorary  Canon  of  Worcester  Cathedral. 
In  1880  he  became  vicar  of  Holy  Trinity, 
Folkstone.  Canon  Baynes  has  compiled  sev- 
eral successful  books  of  sacred  poetry,  and 
is  also  known  as  the  author  of  a  number  of 
excellent  hymns  which  are  in  general  use. 
The  one  for  Communion  quoted  here  is  per- 
haps the  most  popular.  It  was  first  pub- 
lished in  his  Canterbury  Hymnal,  1 864. 

1023  Bearing  the  Cross.  8s,  7s.  D. 
Jesus,  I  my  cross  have  taken. 

All  to  leave,  and  follow  thee  ; 
Naked,  jxKjr,  despised,  forsaken, 

Thou,  from  hence,  my  all  shalt  be ! 
Perish,  every  fond  ambition. 

All  I  've  sought,  or  hoped,  or  known. 
Yet  how  rich  is  my  condition, 

God  and  heaven  are  still  my  own ! 

3  Let  the  world  despise  and  leave  me, 

They  have  left  my  Saviour  too ; 
Human  hearts  and  looks  deceive  me — 

Thou  art  not,  like  them,  untnie ; 


Oh,  while  thou  dost  smile  upon  me, 
God  of  wisdom,  love,  and  might. 

Foes  may  hate,  and  friends  disown  me. 
Show  thy  face,  and  all  is  bright. 

3  Man  may  trouble  and  distress  me, 
'T  will  but  drive  me  to  thy  breast ; 

Life  with  trials  hard  may  press  me ; 

Heaven  will  bring  me  sweeter  rest ! 
Oh,  't  is  not  in  grief  to  harm  me, 

While  thy  love  is  left  to  me ; 
Oh,  't  were  not  in  joy  to  charm  me. 

Were  that  joy  unmixed  with  thee. 

4  Go  then,  earthly  fame  and  treasure! 
Come,  disaster,  scorn,  and  pain  ! 

In  thy  service  pain  is  pleasure. 

With  thy  favor,  loss  is  gain. 
I  have  called  thee — Abba,  Father! 

I  have  stayed  my  heart  on  thee  ! 
Storms  may  howl  and  clouds  may  gather, 

All  must  work  for  good  to  me. 

Nearly  half  a  century  ago  Professor  Wilson, 
in  his  Nodes  Ambrosiancc,  exclaimed  :  "  Have 
you  seen  a  little  volume  entitled  Tales  in 
Verse,  by  the  Rev.  Henry  Francis  Lyte, 
which  seems  to  have  reached  a  second  edi- 
tion ?  Now  that  is  the  right  kind  of  religious 
poetry."  It  is  evident  that  the  critic  had  a 
foresight  of  the  merit  which  the  Church  would 
recognize  before  long.  This  obscure  country 
rector  was  to  become  famous  among  the  sing- 
ing children  of  God.  The  fine  poem  arrested 
so  much  attention  at  once  that  for  many  years 
it  was  credited  in  all  the  American  collections 
to  Sir  Robert  Grant ;  for  nobody  knew  even 
the  name  of  this  modest  curate,  who  was  divid- 
ing his  time  with  working  out  unwelcome  pa- 
rochial tasks  and  teaching  African  freedmen, 
just  liberated  from  slavery,  so  that  they  might 
go  as  catechists  and  school-masters  to  Sierra 
Leone.  In  1824  this  familiar  piece  of  poetry 
appeared  in  Sacred  Poetry,  Edinburgh,  its 
general  form  being  the  same  as  now,  with 
six  double  stanzas.  But  it  must  have  been 
composed  several  years  earlier  than  this.  It 
has  a  living  connection  with  the  most  inter- 
esting fact  that  up  to  1 81 8  he  was  not  a  truly 
converted  man.  He  was  preaching  a  gospel 
which  experimentally  he  did  not  understand. 
This  he  did  not  suspect  till,  Qn  a  certain  occa- 
sion, he  was  sent  for  by  a  brother  clergyman, 
who  was  dying  and  needed  counsel.  Then 
he  found  he  knew  no  more  than  this  unfortu- 
nate neighbor  about  the  way  pf  salvation  by 
a  crucified  Redeemer.  They  were  both 
frightened  and  subdued.  Together  they  com- 
menced an  eager  and  anxious  study  of  the 
Scriptures,  and  in  turn  each  was  soon  changed 
by  the  Spirit  of  divine  grace  in  the  whole  tem- 
per of  his  mind  and  life.  From  this  moment 
the  author  of  the  hymn  began  a  career  of 
thorough  devotion.  It  is  evident  that  these 
verses  were  inspired  by  the  one  great  text  of 
the  New  Testament :  "  If  any  man  will  come 


THE   lord's  supper. 


435 


after  me,  let  him  deny  himself,  and  take  up 
his  cross  daily,  and  follow  me." 

1 024  ^Af  Crown  coming.  8s,  6s.  D. 
Soul,  then  know  thy  full  salvation. 

Rise  o'er  sin,  and  fear,  and  care; 
Joy,  to  find  in  every  station 

Something  still  to  do  or  bear. 
Think  what  Spirit  dwells  within  thee; 

Think  what  Father's  smiles  are  thine ; 
Think  that  Jesus  died  to  win  thee  ! 

Child  of  heaven,  canst  thou  repine? 

2  Haste  thee  on  from  grace  to  glory. 

Armed  by  faith  and  winged  by  prayer ! 
Heaven's  eternal  day's   before  thee, 

God's  own  hand  shall  guide  thee  there: 
Soon  shall  close  thy  earthly  mission. 

Soon  shall  pass  thy  pilgrim  days, 
Hope  shall  change  to  glad  fruition. 

Faith  to  sight,  and  prayer  to  praise. 

This  is  the  latter  part  of  the  previous  hymn, 
which  has  been  divided  for  convenience  in 
singing.  Often  in  the  American  manuals  the 
last  two  stanzas  are  used  as  a  hymn  by  them- 
selves, commencing  "  Know,  my  soul,  thy 
full  salvation."  The  sentiment  of  the  poetry 
changes  rapidly  from  surrender  to  triumph. 
And  it  is  well  to  know,  and  sometimes  to  call 
to  mind,  that  the  last  glorious  words  of  this 
troubled  man,  who  sang  almost  till  breath 
failed  him,  were  just  these  :  "  Peace — joy." 

1 025  -^  spotless  soul.  8s,  7s. 
Jesus,  who  on  Calvary's  mountain 

Poured  thy  precious  blood  for  me, 
Wash  me  in  its  flowing  fountain, 
That  my  soul  may  spotless  be. 

2  In  thy  word  I  hear  thee  saying. 
Come  and  I  will  give  you  rest ; 

Now  the  gracious  call  obeying. 
See,  I  hasten  to  thy  breast. 

From  Rev.  Henry  Ward  Beecher's  Plymouth 
Collection,  1855,  this  hymn  was  taken.  It  is 
probably  an  original ;  but  we  can  find  no  trace 
whatever  of  its  author.  It  expresses  chiefly 
the  writer's  belief  in  the  cleansing  power  of 
the  blood  of  Christ  shed  for  sinners.  "  Mark 
you,"  said  a  pious  sailor,  when  explaining  to 
a  shipmate  at  the  wheel ;  "  mark  you,  it  is  n't 
breaking  off  swearing  and  the  like ;  it  is  n't 
reading  the  Bible,  nor  praying  nor  being  good ; 
it  is  none  of  these  ;  for  even  if  they  would  an- 
swer for  the  time  to  come,  there's  still  the  old 
score ;  and  how  are  you  to  get  over  that  ?  It 
is  n't  anything  that  you  have  done  or  can  do  ; 
it  's  taking  hold  of  what  Jesus  did  for  you ; 
it's  forsaking  your  sins,  and  expecting  the 
pardon  and  salvation  of  your  soul,  because 
Christ  let  the  waves  and  billows  go  over  him 
on  Calvary.  This  is  believing,  and  believing 
is  nothing  else." 

1026  Before  the  Cross.  8s,  7s.  D. 
Sweet  the  moments,  rich  in  blessing, 

Which  before  the  cross  we  spend  j 
Life,  and  health,  and  peace  possessing, 
From  the  sinner's  dying  Friend. 


Truly  blessed  is  this  station, 

Low  before  his  cross  to  lie, 
While  we  see  divine  compassion 

Beaming  in  his  gracious  eye. 

2  Love  and  grief  our  hearts  dividing. 
With  our  tears  his  feet  we  bathe ; 

Constant  still,  in  faith  abiding, 

Life  deriving  from  his  death, 
For  thy  sorrows  we  adore  thee. 

For  the  pains  that  wrought  our  peace. 
Gracious  Saviour  !  we  implore  thee 

In  our  souls  thy  love  increase. 

3  Here  we  feel  our  sins  forgiven. 
While  upon  the  Lamb  we  gaze, 

And  our  thoughts  are  all  of  heaven, 
And  our  lips  o'erflow  with  praise. 

Still  in  ceaseless  contemplation. 
Fix  our  hearts  and  eyes  on  thee, 

Till  we  taste  thy  full  salvation. 
And,  unvailed,  thy  glories  see. 

In  the  Kendal  Hymn- Book,  edited  by  Rev. 
James  Allen,  1757,  a  piece  of  rather  rude  po- 
etry appears  which  it  is  said  the  author  marked 
as  his  own.  But  Rev.  Walter  Shirley  re-wrote 
it  into  the  present  shape  in  1774,  and  put  it  in 
the  book  used  in  Lady  Huntingdon's  Chapels. 
It  began,  "  While  my  Jesus'I  'm  possessing." 
The  alterations  are  extensive,  and  all  for  the 
better  in  taste  and  form  of  expression ;  but 
the  hymn  is  the  composition  of  its  maker. 

1 027  Parting  Hymn.  8s,  7s. 

From  the  table  now  retiring, 
Which  for  us  the  Lord  hath  spread, 

May  our  souls  refreshment  finding, 
Grow  in  all  things  like  our  Head  ! 

2  His  example  while  beholding, 
May  our  lives  his  image  bear: 

Him  our  Lord  and  Master  calling, 
His  commands   may  we  revere. 

3  Love  to  God  and  man  displaying, 
Walking  steadfast  in  his  way, 

Joy  attend  us  in  believing. 

Peace  from  God,  through  endless  day. 

4  Praise  and  honor  to  the  Father, 
Praise  and  honor  to  the  Son, 

Praise  and  honor  to  the  Spirit, 
Ever  Three  and  ever  One. 

Rev.  John  Rowe  was  born  near  Crediton, 
England,  April  17,  1764,  and  educated  at 
Hoxton  Academy  and  at  Hackney  College. 
He  entered  the  ministry  on  his  graduation, 
and  in  1787  was  chosen  as  one  of  the  pas- 
tors of  a  Presbyterian  church  in  Shrewsbury. 
The  length  of  his  stay  here  is  uncertain ;  but 
in  1797  he  became  associate  minister  of  the 
Unitarian  chapel  at  Lewin's  Mead,  Bristol ; 
a  position  which  he  held  until  1831,  when  he 
was  seized  with  paralysis.  The  following 
year  he  resigned  his  charge  and  went  with 
his  daughter  to  Italy.  She  was  the  only  sur- 
viving member  of  his  family,  and  her  care 
was  with  him  to  the  last.  He  died  in  Sienna, 
July  2,  1832.  The  hymn  which  was  quoted 
here,  dated  181 2,  is  the   only  one   by  which 


436 


THE  CHURCH  OF  GOD. 


he  is  known  at  present,  but  it  is  a  favorite  for 
Communion  services. 

1 028  Christ  on   the  Cross.  8s,  7s.  D. 

When  I  view  my  Saviour  bleeding, 

For  my  sins,  upon  the  tree ; 
Oh,  how  wondrous  !— how  exceeding 

Great  his  love  appears  to  me  ! 
Floods  of  deep  distress  and  anguish. 

To  impede  his  labors,  came  ; 
Yet  they  all  could  not  extinguish 

Love's  eternal,  burning  flame. 

2  Now  redemption  is  completed, 
Full  salvation  is  procured  ; 

Death  and  Satan  are  defeated 

By  the  sufferings  he  endured. 
Now  the  gracious  Mediator 

Risen  to  the  courts  of  bliss. 
Claims  for  me,  a  sinful  creature. 

Pardon,  righteousness,  and  peace! 

3  Sure  such  infinite  affection 
Lays  the  highest  claims  to  mine ; 

All  my  powers,  without  exception, 

Should   in  fervent  praises  join, 
Jesus,  fit  me  for  thy  service  ; 

Form  me  for  thyself  alone ; 

1  am  thy  most  costly  purchase — 
Take  possession  of  thine  own. 

Richard  Lee,  the  author  of  this  familiar 
and  useful  hymn,  was  an  English  mechanic. 
He  published  in  London,  1794,  a  volume 
which  he  entitled,  Flowers  from  Sharon, 
from  which  five  pieces,  of  which  this  is  one, 
found  a  place  in  Dobell's  Selection,  1806. 
This  author  did  what  he  did  for  his  little 
book  when  he  was  "  between  the  ages  of 
fifteen  and  nineteen."  The  most  of  the 
]5ieces  were  published  previously  in  the 
Evangelical  Magazine  over  the  signature  of 
"  Ebenezer."  At  that  time  the  writer  lived 
in  Leicester  Fields,  London.  In  1816  he  was 
older,  and  perhaps  not  so  quiet ;  for  Living 
Authors  says  he  was  "  a  political  and  reli- 
gious fanatic."  This  seems  to  be  all  the 
record  which  has  been  made  of  him.  The 
hymn  is  excellent,  and  its  sentiment  lives 
through  the  century  for  good.  A  simple 
vision  of  Jesus  on  the  cross  subdues  the  whole 
soul  to  love. 

1029  "  Eben-ezer."  8s,  7s.  D. 

Come,  thou  Fount  of  every  blessing, 

Tune  my  heart  to  sing  thy  grace ; 
Streams  of  mercy,  never  ceasmg. 

Call  for  songs  of  loudest  praise ; 
Teach  me  some  melodious  sonnet. 

Sung  by  flaming  tongues  above  ; 
Praise  the  mount— I  'm  fixed  ujjon  it — 

Mount  of  thy  redeeming  love ! 

2  Here  I  '11  raise  mine  Eben-ezer; 
Hither  by  thy  help  I  'm  come : 

And  I  hope,  by  thy  good  pleasure. 

Safely  to  arrive  at  home. 
Jesus  sought  me  when  a  stranger. 

Wandering  from  the  fold  of  God ; 
He,  to  rescue  me  from  danger, 

Interposed  his  precious  blood. 


3  Oh,  to  grace  how  great  a  debtor 

Daily  I  'm  constrained  to  be! 
Let  thy  goodness,  like  a  fetter. 

Bind  my  wandering  heart  to  thee. 
Prone  to  wander,  Lord,  I  feel  it ; 

Prone  to  leave  the  God  I  love ; 
Here 's  my  heart,  oh,  take  and  seal  it — 

Seal  it  for  thy  courts  above. 

For  a  long  while  this  hymn  was  attributed 
to  the  Countess  of  Huntingdon.  But  Rev. 
Robert  Robinson,  giving  a  list  of  his  own 
compositions  up  to  1781,  says  :  "  Mr.  Wheat- 
ley,  of  Norwich,  published  a  hymn  beginning, 
'  Come,  thou  Fount  of  every  blessing,'  since 
repeated  in  the  hymn-books  of  Messrs.  Madan, 
Wesley,  Gifford,  and  others."  This  was  in 
1758.  Generally  now  the  authorship  is  credit- 
ed to  him  without  dispute.  Dr.  Joseph 
Belcher  in  his  Historical  Sketches  of  Hymns, 
1859.  gives  an  interesting  statement  concern- 
ing the  later  years  of  this  man.  He  says: 
"  From  a  descendant  of  one  of  the  parties 
referred  to  in  the  narrative  we  received,  some 
twenty  years  since,  the  affecting  statement  we 
now  make.  In  the  latter  part  of  his  life, 
when  Mr.  Robinson  seemed  to  have  lost 
much  of  his  devotional  feeling,  and  when  he 
indulged  in  habits  of  levity,  he  was  traveling 
in  a  stage-coach  with  a  lady,  who  soon  per- 
ceived that  he  was  well  acquainted  with  r.e- 
ligion.  She  had  just  before  been  reading  the 
hymn  of  which  we  are  writing,  and  asked  his 
opinion  of  it — as  she  might  properly  do, 
since  neither  of  them  knew  who  the  other 
was.  He  waived  the  subject  and  turned  her 
attention  to  some  other  topic ;  but  after  a 
short  period  she  contrived  to  return  to  it,  and 
described  the  benefits  she  had  often  derived 
from  the  hymn  and  her  strong  admiration  of 
its  sentiments.  She  observed  that  the  gentle- 
man was  strongly  agitated,  but,  as  he  was 
dressed  in  colored  clothes,  did  not  suspect  the 
cause.  This  garb  Robinson  was  compelled 
to  assume  in  traveling,  as  wherever  he  was 
known  he  was  pressed  to  stay  to  preach.  At 
length,  entirely  overcome  by  the  power  of 
his  feelings,  he  burst  into  tears  and  said : 
'  Madam,  I  am  the  poor,  unhappy  man  who 
composed  that  hymn  many  years  ago  ;  and  I 
would  give  a  thousand  worlds,  if  I  had  them, 
to  enjoy  the  feelings  I  then  had.'  " 

f  030  "  Him  we  pierced."  8s,  7s.  D. 

Come,  thou  everlasting  Spirit, 

Bring  to  every  thankful  mind 
All  the  Saviour's  dying  merit. 

All  his  sufferings  for  mankind  : 
True  recorder  of  his  passion, 

Now  the  living  faith  impart  ; 
Now  reveal  his  great  salvation 

Unto  every  faithful  heart. 

2  Come,  thou  Witness  of  his  dying ; 

Come,  Remembrancer  divine; 
Let  us  feel  thy  power  applying 

Christ  to  every  soul  and  mine. 


THE  LORD  S   SUPPER. 


437 


Let  us  groan  thine  inward  groaning ; 

Look  on  him  we  pierced,  and  grieve ; 
All  partake  the  grace  atoning, — 

All  the  sprinkled  blood  receive. 

This  piece  comes  from  Hymns  on  the  Lord's 
Supper,  prepared  by  the  two  brothers,  John 
and  Charles  Wesley,  1745.  The  Methodist 
Hymnal,  1878,  which  ought  to  be  good 
authority,  makes  no  hesitation  in  crediting 
this  familiar  Communion  song  to  Charles 
Wesley.  The  title  it  bears  is  "  A  Memorial 
of  the  Death  of  Christ." 

1 03 1  I.  Peter  5:5.  8s,  7s.  D. 

Ybs,  for  me,  for  me  he  careth 

With  a  brother's  tender  care; 
Yes,  with  me,  with  me  he  shareth 

Every  burden,  every  fear. 
Yes,  for  me  he  standeth  pleading 

At  the  mercy-seat  above, 
Ever  for  me  interceding. 

Constant  in  untiring  love. 

2  Yes,  in  me,  in  me  he  dwelleth, 

I  in  him,  and  he  in  me ! 
And  my  empty  soul  he  filleth. 

Here  and  through  eternity. 
Thus  I  wait  for  his  returning. 

Singing  all  the  way  to  heaven  ; 
Such  the  joyous  song  of  morning. 

Such  the  banquet  song  of  even. 

Another  of  Dr.  Horatius  Bonar's  composi- 
tions, taken  from  Songs  for  the  Wilderness, 
No.  2,  1844.  It  is  entitled  there  "Christ 
the  Elder  Brother,"  and  is  founded  upon  I. 
Peter  5  :  6,  7  :  "  Humble  yourselves  therefore 
under  the  mighty  hand  of  God,  that  he  may 
exalt  you  in  due  time  :  casting  all  your  care 
upon  him  ;  for  he  careth  for  you."  Such  a 
wonderful  suggestion  renders  these  verses  a 
"  banquet  song  "  indeed. 

1032  The  reproach  0/ Christ.  8s.  7s.  D. 

Cross,  reproach,  and  tribulation  ! 

Ye  to  me  are  welcome  guests 
When  I  have  this  consolation. 

That  my  soul  in  Jesus  rests. 
The  reproach  of  Christ  is  glorious  ! 

Those  who  here  his  burden  bear, 
In  the  end  shall  prove  victorious. 

And  eternal  gladness  share. 

2  Bonds  and  stripes,  and  evil  story, 

Are  our  honorable  crowns ; 
Pain  is  peace,  and  shame  is  glory. 

Gloomy  dungeons  are  as  thrones, 
Bear,  then,  the  reproach  of  Jesus 

Ye  who  live  a  life  of  faith  ! 
Lift  triumphant  songs  and  praises 

Ev'n  in  martyrdom  and  death. 

This  poem  has  made  its  way  from  the 
Latin  into  German  before  reaching  its  present 
English  form.  The  original,  "  Salve  crux 
beata,  salve"  was  written  by  Rev.  Johann 
Wilhelm  Petersen,  who  was  for  a  time 
Court  Preacher  to  the  Duke  of  Holstein, 
and  died  in  1727.  A  German  version  of  the 
hymn,  a  free  translation  in  twenty-one  stanzas, 


was  made  by  Rev.  Ludwig  Andreas  Gotter,  a 
contemporary  of  Mr.  Petersen,  and  like  him 
a  Court  Preacher.  From  this  version  an 
English  translation  was  made  by  unknown 
authors  for  the  Moravian  Hymn  Book,  which 
appeared  in  1789,  and  this  has  been  frequent- 
ly reprinted  in  American  collections.  The 
poem  is  a  fervent  thanksgiving  that  those 
who  are  Christ's  servants  are  considered 
worthy  to  share  in  his  sufferings  and  follow 
in  his  footsteps.  When  Robert  Bruce  died 
he  laid  the  solemn  charge  upon  his  faithful 
friend  Douglas  to  bear  his  heart,  enshrined 
in  a  silver  case,  to  Jerusalem,  that  it  might  be 
interred  near  the  sepulcher  of  Christ.  The 
noble  Scotchman  set  out  on  his  long  journey, 
the  relic  in  his  bosom.  But  the  way  was 
difficult,  and  the  path  was  perilous.  In  Spain 
he  was  beset  by  a  party  of  Moors,  and  in  ut- 
termost danger  for  his  life.  Back  on  him  and 
his  few  trusted  adherents  the  barbarians  were 
pressing.  In  the  instant  when  it  seemed  he  must 
be  overpowered,  he  is  related  to  have  flung 
the  sacred  casket  ahead  directly  among  his 
enemies,  and  then,  with  superhumaij  energy, 
to  have  dashed  himself  after  it,  exclaiming : 
"  Where  Bruce's  heart  has  gone,  a  Douglas' 
hand  will  never  fail  to  follow  !"  So  he  saved 
himself  and  all  he  valued.  Let  there  be  one 
sole,  intelligible  purpose  in  our  whole  being. 
Where  went  the  heart  of  Christ  .-*  Then  shall 
we  follow  on. 


1033 


"  Bread  0/ Heaven." 


IDS.  2I. 


O  King  of  mercy,  from  thy  throne  on  high 
Look  down  in  love,  and  hear  our  humble  cr\-. 

2  Thou  tender  Shepherd  of  the  blood-bought  sheep 
Thy  feeble  wandering  flock  in  safety  keep. 

3  O  gentle  Saviour,  by  thy  death  we  live  ; 
To  contrite  sinners  life  eternal  give. 

4  Thou  art  the  Bread  of  heaven,  on  thee  we  feed  : 
Be  near  to  help  our  souls  in  time  of  need. 

5  Thou  art  the  mourner's  stay,  the  sinner's  Friend, 
Sweet  fount  of  joy  and  blessings  without  end. 

6  Oh,  come  and  cheer  us  with  thy  heavenly  grace, 
Reveal  the  brightness  of  thy  glorious  face. 

7  In  cooling  cloud  by  day,  in  fire  by  night. 

Be  near  our  steps,  and  make  our  darkness  light. 

8  Go  where  we  go,  abide  where  we  abide, 

In  life,  in  death,  our  comfort,  strength,  and  Guide. 

9  Oh,  lead  us  daily  with  thine  eye  of  love. 
And  bring  us  safely  to  our  home  above. 

Rev.  Thomas  Rawson  Birks,  M.  A.,  was 
born  in  September,  18 10,  and  graduated  at 
Trinity  College,  Cambridge.  He  took  Holy 
Orders  in  1837  and  in  1844  became  rector  of 
Kelshall.  Herts,  England.  After  twenty-two 
years  of  faithful  service  in  this  charge,  he  was 
transferred  to  be  vicar  of  Holy  Trinity,  Cam- 


438 


THE   CHURCH    OF   GOD. 


bridge;  and  in  1871  he  was  made  Honorary 
Canon  of  Ely  Camedral.  The  next  year  he 
became  Professor  of  Moral  Philosophy  at 
Cambridge,  dying  there  July  21,  1883.  Canon 
Birks  was  a  man  of  great  ability,  and  his  writ- 
ings, which  number  twenty-five  volumes,  are 
on  biblical,  astronomical,  scientific,  and  pro- 
phetic subjects.  In  addition  to  this  he  was  the 
authoj"  of  more  than  one  hundred  hymns,  most 
of  which  appeared  in  the  Christian  Psalmody 
of  his  father-in-law,  Rev.  Edward  Bickersteth, 
published  in  1 833.  This  version  of  Psalm  80 
appeared  in  his  Cotnpanion  Psalter,  1874,  and 
has  become  very  popular. 

1034  ''Peace,  perfect  peace."  los.  2I. 

Peace,  perfect  peace,  in  this  dark  world  of  sin  ? 
The  blood  of  Jesus  whispers  peace  within. 

2  Peace,  perfect  peace,  by  thronging  duties  pressed  ? 
To  do  the  will  of  Jesus,  this  is  rest. 

3  Peace,  perfect  peace,  with  .sorrows  surging  round  ? 
On  Jesus'  bosom  naught  but  calm  is  found. 

4  Peace,  perfect  peace,  with  loved  ones  far  away  ? 
In  J«sus'  keeping  we  are  safe  and  they. 

5  Peace,  perfect  peace,  our  future  all  unknown  ? 
Jesus  we  know,  and  he  is  on  the  throne. 

6  Peace,  perfect  peace,  death  shadowing  us  and  ours  ? 
Jesus  has  vanquished  death  and  all  its  powers. 

7  It  is  enough  :  earth's  struggles  soon  shall  cease. 
And  Jesus  call  us  to  heaven's  perfect  peace. 

Although  he  was  the  composer  of  many 
sacred  songs,  it  is  likely  that  the  Rev.  Edward 
Henry  Bickersteth,  D.  D.,  now  the  Bishop  of 
Exeter  in  England,  is  better  known  to  the 
American  public  through  his  imaginative 
poem.  Yesterday,  To-day,  and  Forever,  than 
in  any  other  way.  A  wide  circulation  has 
been  given  to  this  composition  on  our  side  of 
the  sea.  It  consists  of  twelve  books,  written 
in  blank  verse ;  and  it  has  chosen  for  its  theme 
a  picture  of  the  Past,  Present,  and  Future,  as 
the  range  of  a  human  soul  would  reach  it,  in 
Heaven,  Earth,  and  Hell.  Very  few  poets  have 
attempted  to  arrest  public  attention  upon  a 
subject  so  lofty  since  the  days  of  Dante  and 
Milton ;  but  this  effort  has  been  an  unusual  and 
brilliant  success ;  the  book  is  full  of  power  and 
pathos. 

The  hymn  now  before  us  is  peculiar  in  that 
it  consists  of  several  direct  questions  and  their 
answers :  a  peculiarity  exquisitely  rendered  by 
the  music  to  which  it  is  commonly  sung ;  the 
first  strain  bearing  the  plaintive  and  wistful 
tone  of  the  questioner,  and  the  following 
strain  replying  with  a  bright  and  vigorous 
promise  from  the  words  of  our  Saviour.  These 
seven  stanzas,  suggested  by  Isaiah  26  :  3,  were 
written  in  1875,  and  printed  in  a  small  pam- 
phlet of  five  hymns,  entitled  Songs  in  the  House 


of  Pilgrimage,  published  in  Hampstead  with- 
out date.  One  of  the  most  important  services 
rendered  to  the  hymn-using  churches  was  that 
which  Dr.  Bickersteth  did  when  he  compiled 
and  somewhat  revised  the  collection  of  songs 
published  by  his  father,  the  Rev.  Edward 
Bickersteth,  who  wp^  the  rector  of  Wotton 
through  many  active  years,  as  well  as  a  writer 
of  much  repute  as  author  of  The  Christian 
Standard.  This  collection  contained  nine 
hymns  by  the  compiler. 


1035 


"  This  is  his  Body.'" 


Draw  nigh  and  take  the  body  of  your  Lord, 
And  drink  the  holy  blood  for  you  outpoured. 
Offered  was  he  for  greatest  and  for  least. 
Himself  the  victim  and  himself  the  priest. 

2  He,  that  in  this  world  rules  his  saints,  and  shields. 
To  all  believers  life  eternal  yields  ; 

With  heavenly  bread  makes  them  that  hunger  whole. 
Gives  living  waters  to  the  thirsting  soul. 

3  Approach  ye  then  with  faithful  hearts  sincere, 
Anci  take  the  pledges  of  salvation  here. 

O  Judge  of  all,  our  only  Saviour  thou. 
In  this  thy  feast  of  love  be  with  us  now. 

Dr.  John  Mason  Neale  gives  us  here  a 
fresh  and  beautiful  translation  from  an  anony- 
mous Latin  hymn  probably  a  thousand  years 
old  :  "  Sancti  venite,  corpus  Christi  sumite." 
The  original  is  printed  in  full  in  the  Lyra 
Hibernica  Sacra,  1878.  It  was  a  hymn  of 
the  early  Irish  Church,  and  it  has  been  con- 
jectured that  it  was  composed  within  her 
borders.  A  copy  of  it  was  found  in  the  Anti- 
phonarium  Benchorense,  A.  D.  680-691,  at 
the  monastery  of  Bangor,  County  Down,  now 
in  the  Ambrosian  Library  at  Milan.  The 
version  of  Dr.  Neale  appears  in  Mediaval 
Hymns,  1851. 


I036 


'  Do  this  in  remembrance.^ 


"  This  is  my  body,  which  is  given  for  you  ; 

Do  this,"  he  said,  and  brake,  "  remembering  me." 
O  Lamb  of  God,  our  paschal  offering  true, 

To  us  the  bread  of  life  each  moment  be. 

2  "  This  is  my  blood,  for  sins'  remission  shed  ;" 
He  spake,  and  passed  the  cup  of  blessing  round ; 

So  let  us  drink,  and,  on  life's  fullness  fed. 
With  heavenly  joy  each  quickening  pulse  shall  bound. 

3  Some  will  betray  thee — "  Master,  is  it  I?" 
Leaning  upon  thy  love,  we  ask  in  fear — 

Ourselves  mistrusting,  earnestly  we  cry- 
To  thee,  the  Strong,  for  strength,  when  sin  is  near. 

4  But  round  us  fall  the  evening  shadows  dim  ; 

A  saddened  awe  per\'ades  our  darkening  sense ; 
In  solemn  choir  we  sing  the  parting  hymn. 
And  hear  thy  voice,  "  Arise,  let  us  go  hence." 

This  hymn  was  written  by  Charles  Lau- 
rence Ford,  who  was  born  at  Bath,  England, 
in  1830.  He  is  the  son  of  an  artist  of  ability, 
and  was  educated  at  London  University. 
Since  his  graduation  he  has  been  engaged  in 
scholastic  work.     Mr.  Ford  is  the  author  of  a 


THE   LORD  S   SUPPER. 


439 


number  of    hymns  and   poems  which   were 

published  in  1874  with  the  title  Lyra  Christi. 

The  one  given   here,  which  was  written  for 

Communion     service,   is    perhaps    the    best 

known. 

1 037  The  Memorial.  los. 

Oh,  blest  memorial  of  our  dying  Lord, 
Who  living  bread  to  men  doth  here  afford  ! 
Oh,  may  our  souls  for  ever  feed  on  thee. 
And  thou,  O  Christ,  for  ever  precious  be  ! 

2  Fountain  of  goodness  !  Jesus,  Lord  and  God  ! 
Cleanse  us,  unclean,  with  thy  most  cleansing  blood  ; 
Increase  our  faith  and  love,  that  we  may  know 
The  hope  and  peace  which  from  thy  presence  flow. 

3  O  Christ  !  whom  now  beneath  a  vail  we  see. 
May  what  we  thirst  for  soon  our  portion  be ; 
To  gaze  on  thee  unvailed,  and  see  thy  face, 
The  vision  of  thy  glory  and  thy  grace. 

Rev.  James  Russell  Woodford,  D.  D., 
Bishop  of  Ely  in  the  English  Church,  trans- 
lated this  from  the  old  Latin  poem  of  St. 
Thomas  of  Aquino,  "  Adoro  Te  devote,  latens 
Deltas."  Dr.  John  Mason  Neale  has  been 
quoted  as  saying  concerning  this  ancient 
hymn  that  it  "  was  never  in  public  use  in  the 
mediaeval  Church  ;  but  it  has  been  appended, 
as  a  private  devotion,  to  most  missals.  It  is 
worthy  of  notice  how  the  Angelic  Doctor,  as 
if  afraid  to  employ  any  pomp  of  words  on  ap- 
proaching so  tremendous  a  mystery,  has  used 
the  very  simplest  expressions  throughout." 
The  version  now  before  us  was  composed  in 
1 850,  and  first  issued  in  Hymns  Arranged  for 
the  Sundays  and  Holy  Days  of  the  Church  of 
England,  1852.  It  was  intended  to  com- 
mence with  the  line,  "  Thee  we  adore,  O  hid- 
den Saviour,  thee." 

1038 


1039 


Penitent  Prayer. 


The  True  Bread. 


True  Bread  of  life,  in  pitying  mercy  given, 
Long-famished  souls  to  strengthen  and  to  feed  ; 

Christ  Jesus,  Son  of  God,  true  Bread  of  heaven. 
Thy  flesh  is  meat,  thy  blood  is  drink  indeed. 

2  I  cannot  famish,  though  this  earth  should  fail, 
Though  life  through  all  its  fields  should  pine  and  die; 

Though  the  sweet  verdure  should  forsake  each  vale, 
And  every  stream  of  every  land  run  dry. 

3  True  Tree  of  Life !  Of  thee  I  eat  and  live, 
Who  eateth  of  thy  fruit  shall  never  die  ; 

'T  is  thine  the  everlasting  health  to  give. 
The  youth  and  bloom  of  immortality. 

4  Feeding  on  thee  all  weakness  turns  to  power, 
The  sickly  soul  revives,  like  earth  in  spring; 

Strength  floweth  on  and  in,  each  buoyant  hour, 
This  being  seems  all  energy,  all  wing. 

5  Jesus,  our  dyin§,  buried,  risen  Head, 
Thy  church's  Life  and  Lord,  Immanuel! 

At  thy  dear  cross  we  find  the  eternal  bread, 
And  in  thy  empty  tomb  the  living  well. 

Still  another  of  Dr.  Horatius  Bonar's  com- 
positions, taken  from  Hymns  of  Faith  and 
Hope,  Second  Series,  1864.  It  is  entitled, 
"  The  True  Bread,"  and  is  apparently  founded 
upon  John  6:48-58. 


Not  worthy.  Lord  !  to  gather  up  the  crumbs 
With  trembling  hand,  that  from  thy  table  fall, 

A  weary,  heavy-laden  sinner  comes 
To  plead  thy  promise  and  obey  thy  call. 

2  I  am  not  worthy  to  be  thought  thy  child  ; 
Nor  sit  the  last  and  lowest  at  thy  board  : 

Too  long  a  wanderer,  and  too  oft  beguiled, 
I  only  ask  one  reconciling  word. 

3  And  is  not  mercy  thy  prerogative — 

Free  mercy,  boundless,  fathomless,  divine  ? 
Me,  Lord!  the  chief  of  sinners,  me  forgive. 
And  thine  the  greater  glory,  only  thine. 

4  I  hear  thy  voice  ;  thou  bid'st  me  come  and  rest ; 
I  come,  I  kneel,  I  clasp  thy  piercfed  feet ; 

Thou  bid'st  me  take  my  place,  a  welcome  guest. 
Among  thy  saints,  and  of  thy  banquet  eat. 

5  My  praise  can  only  breathe  itself  in  prayer, 
My  prayer  can  only  lose  itself  in  thee ; 

Dwell  thou  for  ever  m  my  heart,  and  there, 
Lord !  let  me  sup  with  thee ;  sup  thou  with  me. 

Bishop  Edward  Henry  Bickersteth  wrote 
this  in  1872,  and  included  it  in  h\s  Hyjnnal 
Co7npanion  revised  and  enlarged,  1878.  This 
piece  has  come  into  wide  use  in  the  United 
States  as  a  Communion  hymn.  The  pas- 
sionate humility  singularly  joined  with  the 
intensity  of  trust  is  always  remarked  the  mo- 
ment one  attempts  to  sing  it  in  the  presence 
of  the  elements  which  represent  the  suffering 
and  salvation  of  the  atonement,  the  suffering 
Jesus  bore,  the  salvation  he  wrought. 

1 040  Coming  to  the  table.  los. 

Here,  O  my  Lord,  I  see  thee  face  to  face; 

Here  would  I  touch  and  handle  things  unseen  ; 
Here  grasp  with  firmer  hand  the  eternal  grace, 

And  all  my  weariness  upon  thee  lean. 

2  Here  would  I  feed  upon  the  bread  of  God  ; 
Here  drink  with  thee  the  royal  wine  of  heaven; 

Here  would  I  lay  aside  each  earthly  load, 
Here  taste  afresh  the  calm  of  sin  forgiven. 

3  This  is  the  hour  of  banquet  and  of  song, 
This  is  the  heavenly  table  spread  for  me ; 

Here  let  me  feast,  and,  feasting,  still  prolong 
The  brief  bright  hour  of  fellowship  with  thee. 

This  piece,  including  the  one  which  imme- 
diately follows  it,  was  composed  by  Dr.  Hora- 
tius Bonar,  in  answer  to  a  request  from  his 
brother.  Dr.  John  James  Bonar,  the  pastor  of 
St.  Andrew's  Free  Church  Presbyterian  con- 
gregation in  Greenock,  .Scotland.  This  brother, 
his  elder  brother,  was  in  the  habit  of  keeping  a 
memorandum  which  he  printed  after  the  peri- 
odical sacrament.  This  occasion,  so  honored 
and  perpetuated,  was  celebrated  in  October, 
1855.  The  poem  was  published  afterward  in 
Hymns  of  Faith  and  Hope,  First  Series,  1857. 
It  had  ten  stanzas,  from  which  these  are 
chosen. 


I04I 


"Sweet  Foretastes.' 


Too  soon  we  rise ;  the  symbols  disappear  ■ 
The  feast,  though  not  the  love,  is  passed  and  gone; 

The  bread  and  wine  remove,  but  thou  art  here — 
Nearer  than  ever— still  my  Shield  and  Sun. 


440 


THE   CHURCH   OF   GOD. 


2  I  have  no  help  but  thine ;  nor.  do  I  need 

Another  arm  save  thine  to  lean  upon : 
It  is  enough,  my  Lord,  enough,  indeed  ; 

My  strength  is  in  thy  might,  thy  might  alone. 

^  Mine  is  the  sin,  but  thine  the  righteousness  ; 

Mine  is  the  guilt,  but  thine  the  cleansing  blood  ; 
Here  is  my  robe,  my  refuge,  and  my  peace ; 

Thy  blood,  thy  righteousness,  O  Lord,  my  trOd. 

A  Feast  after  feast  thus  comes  and  passes  by  ; 

Yet,  passing,  points  to  the  glad  feast  above, 
Giving  sweet  foretastes  of  the  festal  joy, 

The  Lamb's  great  bridal  feast  of  bliss  and  love. 

Part  of  the  previous  hymn;  the  earlier 
verses  being  used  before  the  celebration,  or  in 
introducing  it,  the  other  verses  following  the 
sacrament  and  making  its  grand  and  beauti- 
ful close.  It  would  be  difficult  to  find  any- 
where in  religious  literature  another  poem  so 
full  of  pathos,  tenderness,  and  doctrinal  truth 
as  this  is. 

1042  "  Till  he  come."  P.  M. 

Thou  art  coming,  O  my  Saviour ! 

Thou  art  coming,  O  my  King! 
In  thy  beauty  all-resplendent. 
In  thy  glory  all-transcendent ; 

Well  may  we  rejoice  and  sing  ! 
Coming!    In  the  opening  east 

Herald  brightness  slowly  swells; 
Coming !    O  my  glorious  Priest, 

Hear  we  not  thy  golden  bells  ? 

2  Thou  art  coming,  thou  art  coming ! 
We  shall  meet  thee  on  thy  way. 

We  shall  see  thee,  we  shall  know  thee 
We  shall  bless  thee,  we  shall  show  thee 

All  our  hearts  could  never  say ! 
What  an  anthem  that  will  be. 

Ringing  out  our  love  to  thee, 
Pouring  out  our  rapture  sweet 

At  thine  own  all-glorious  feet ! 

3  Not  a  cloud  and  not  a  shadow, 
Not  a  mist  and  not  a  tear, 

Not  a  sin  and  not  a  sorrow. 
Not  a  dim  and  vailed  to-morrow. 

For  that  sunrise  grand  and  clear ! 
Jesus,  Saviour,  once  with  thee. 

Nothing  else  seems  worth  a  thought ! 
Oh,  how  marvelous  will  be 

All  the  bliss  thy  pain  hath  bought ! 

Written  by  Miss  Frances  Ridley  Havergal 
at  Winterdyne,  and  printed  in  1873  in  the 
Rock  newspaper.  Miss  Havergal  believed, 
like  Horatius  Bonar  and  Spurgeon  and  Mc- 
Cheyne,  and  hosts  of  other  hymn-writers,  in 
the  premillennial  advent  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ.  This  hymn  is  an  illustration  of  her 
experience  at  the  time  of  her  conversation  with 
her  teacher,  which  she  has  herself  so  pictur- 
esquely related : 

"  One  evening  I  was  sitting  on  the  drawing 
room  sofa  with  her  (Miss  Cook),  and  told  her 
again  how  I  longed  to  know  that  I  was  for- 
given. She  asked  me  a  question  which  led  to 
the  hearty  answer  that  1  was  sure  I  desired 
it  above  everything  on  earth.  She  paused 
and  then  said,  slowly, '  Then,  Fanny,  I  think — 
I  am  sure — it  will  not  be  very  long  before 


your  desire  is  granted,  your  hope  fulfilled.'  " 
The  story  of  this  gifted  poet's  conversion, 
which  occurred  as  the  almost  immediate  re- 
sult of  the  conversation,  has  been  told  in  her 
autobiographical  reminiscences,  and  already 
quoted  in  these  annotations.     See  hymn  509. 

1043  "  Thou  art  coming.''''  P.  M. 

Thou  art  coming !    At  thy  table 

We  are  witnesses  for  this, 
While  remembering  hearts  thou  meetest, 
In  communion  clearest,  sweetest, 

Earnest  of  our  coming  bliss  : 
Showing  not  thy  death  alone, 

And  thy  love  exceeding  great, 
But  thy  coming  and  thy  throne. 

All  for  which  we  long  and  wait. 

2  Thou  art  coming  !    We  are  waiting 
With  a  hope  that  cannot  fail ; 

Asking  not  the  day  or  hour. 
Resting  on  thy  word  of  power. 

Anchored  safe  within  the  vail. 
Time  appointed  may  be  long. 

But  the  vision  must  be  sure: 
Certainty  shall  make  us  strong, 

Joyful  patience  shall  endure ! 

3  Oh,  the  joy  to  see  thee  reigning. 
Thee,  our  own  belov6d  Lord  ! 

Every  tongue  thy  name  confessing. 
Worship,  honor,  glory,  blessing, 

Brought  to  thee  with  glad  accord  ! 
Thee,  our  Master  and  our  Friend, 

Vindicated  and  enthroned ! 
Unto  earth's  remotest  end 

Glorified,  adored,  and  owned  ! 


^^. 


ASTLEV  CHURCH  AND   RECTORY,  WHERE    MISS  HAVERGAL 
IS  BURIED. 

This  is  part  of  the  preceding  poem,  as  it  is 
found  in  the  Rock  newspaper,  1873;  there, 
and  in  her  Life  Mosaics,  1879,  it  consists  of 
these  six  stanzas  of  nine  lines  each,  and  is 
entitled  "  Advent."  This  writer  had  a  pecu- 
liarity of  personal  association  with  Jesus 
Christ,  almost  unequaled  in  Christian  biogra- 
phy.    To  her  death  seemed  only  a  joyful  ush- 


THE   LORD'S   SUPPER, 


441 


ering  of  her  soul  into  his  presence,  longed 
for,  hoped  for,  waited  for,  with  passionate  de- 
sire. The  ordinance  of  the  Lord's  Supper 
deepened  the  experience,  for  then  she  seemed 
so  near  the  marriage  supper  of  the  Lamb. 
To  the  vicar  of  Swansea,  who  visited  her  the 
day  before  her  death,  she  said,  "  Oh,  I  want 
all  of  you  to  speak  bright,  bright  words  about 
Jesus — oh,  do,  do  !  It  is  all  perfect  peace  ;  I 
am  only  waiting  for  Jesus  to  take  me  in." 
"When  she  was  dying  the  solemn  fact  of  her 
near  departure  was  communicated  to  her. 
In  no  wise  frightened,  she  exclaimed, "  Splen- 
did to  be  so  close  to  the  gates  of  heaven !" 
At  the  very  last  she  sang,  "  Jesus,  I  will  trust 
thee,"  to  the  tune  "  Hermas,"  one  of  her  own 
compositions  now  familiar  over  the  world. 
Then  she  added,  "  It  is  so  beautiful  to  go !" 
She  was  buried  at  Astley,  and  on  her  tomb- 
stone, as  she  had  requested,  was  carved  the 
verse  which  she  always  declared  had  been 
the  instrument  of  her  conversion  :  "  The  blood 
of  Jesus  Christ,  his  Son,  cleanseth  us  from  all 
sin." 


1 044  "Father,  forgive  them. ' ' 

Jesus,  in  thy  dying  woes, 
Even  while  thy  life-blood  flows, 
Craving  pardon  for  thy  foes  : — 
Hear  us,  holy  Jesus  ! 

2  Saviour,  for  our  pardon  sue, 
When  our  sins  thy  pangs  renew, 
For  we  know  not  what  we  do. 

3  Oh,  may  we,  who  mercy  need. 
Be  like  thee  in  heart  and  deed, 
When  with  wrong  our  spirits  bleed ! 

1 045  "  To-day  in  Paradise." 

Jesus,  pitying  the  sighs 
Of  the  thief,  who  near  thee  dies, 
Promising  him  Paradise : — 
Hear  us,  holy  Jesus/ 

2  May  we  in  our  guilt  and  shame 
Still  thy  love  and  mercy  claim, 
Calling  humbly  on  thy  name  ! 

3  Oh,  remember  us  who  pine. 
Looking  from  our  cross  to  thine : 
Cheer  our  souls  with  hope  divine ! 

1046  "  Woman,  behold  thy  Son." 

Jesus,  loving  to  the  end 
Her  whose  heart  thy  sorrows  rend, 
And  thy  dearest  human  friend  ; 
Hear  us,  holy  Jesus  I 

2  May  we  in  thy  sorrow  share, 
And  for  thee  all  peril  dare, 
And  enjoy  thy  tender  care ! 

3  May  we  all  thy  loved  ones  be. 
All  one  holy  family, 

Loving  for  the  love  of  thee  I 

1 047  "  Why  hast  thou  forsaken  Me  /" 

Jesus,  whelmed  in  fears  unknown. 
With  our  evil  left  alone 
While  no  light  from  heaven  is  shown  : 
Hear  us,  holy  Jesus  / 


P.  M. 


2  When  we  vainly  seek  to  pray. 
And  our  hope  seems  faraway, 
In  the  darkness  be  our  stay  ! 

3  Though  no  Father  seem  to  hear, 
Though  no  light  our  spirits  cheer. 
Tell  our  faith  that  God  is  near ! 

1048  "/thirst." 
Jesus,  in  thy  thirst  and  pain, 

While  thy  wounds  thy  life-blood  drain, 
Thirsting  more  our  love  to  gain  : — 
Hear  us,  holy  Jesus  ! 

2  Thirst  for  us  in  mercy  still ; 
All  thy  holy  work  fulfill— 
Satisfy  thy  loving  will ! 

3  May  we  thirst  thy  love  to  know ; 
Lead  us  in  our  sin  and  woe 
Where  the  healing  waters  flow  I 

1049  "■^'^  is  finished." 
Jesus,  all  our  ransom  paid, 
All  thy  Father's  will  obeyed. 
By  thy  sufferings  perfect  made: 

Hear  us,  holy  Jesus  ! 

2  Save  us  in  our  soul's  distress. 
Be  our  help  to  cheer  and  bless. 
While  we  grow  in  holiness  ! 

3  Brighten  all  our  heavenward  way, 
With  an  ever  holier  ray, 

Till  we  pass  to  perfect  day  ! 

1050  "Father,  into  thy  hands." 
Jesus — all  thy  labor  vast, 

All  thy  woe  and  conflict  past — 
Yielding  up  thy  soul  at  last : — 
Hear  us,  holy  Jesus  ! 

2  When  the  death  shades  round  us  lower, 
Guard  us  from  the  tempter's  power, 
Keep  us  in  that  trial  hour  I 

3  May  thy  life  and  death  supply 
Grace  to  live  and  grace  to  die, 
Grace  to  reach  the  home  on  high  ! 

Rev.  Thomas  Benson  Pollock,  M.  A.,  the 
author  of  these  verses,  was  born  in  1 836,  and 
educated  at  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  graduat- 
ing in  1859.  He  took  Holy  Orders  two  years 
after,  and  was  appointed  successively  to  cura- 
cies in  Leek,  Staffordshire ;  Stamford  Hill, 
London ;  and  at  St.  Alban's,  Birmingham. 
Mr.  Pollock  is  a  man  of  decided  literary  abil- 
ity, and  a  number  of  his  hymns  are  in  general 
use  ;  but  he  is  best  known  and  most  success- 
ful as  a  writer  of  metrical  litanies.  His  works 
of  this  class  were  published  in  Oxford  in  1870, 
with  the  title.  Metrical  Litanies  for  Special 
Services  and  General  Use,  and  have  been  of 
great  value  to  hymnology.  The  one  given 
here  is  perhaps  the  finest,  for  it  is  one  piece, 
the  parts  being  numbered  separately  for  con- 
venience only.  It  represents  the  seven  utter- 
ances of  our  Lord  on  the  cross.  They  are 
significant  even  when  detached  and  separate ; 
but  their  full  power  will  be  felt  the  more  when 
one  considers  their  order,  the  line  of  consecu- 
tive thought  in  which  they  occur. 


442 


THE  CHURCH   OF  GOD. 


Perhaps  there  is  no  way  in  which  they  can 
more  vividly  be  grouped  together  than  by 
adopting  tiie  ancient  conventional  form  of 
memorizing  employed  by  classic  orators  in 
recalling  the  points  of  a  speech.  They  used 
to  localize  the  heads  of  discourse  by  fastening 
them  in  imaginative  connection  around  on  the 
conspicuous  parts  of  the  building.  Hence 
came  our  phraseology,  "  in  the  first  place,"  or 
"  the  second  place,"  and  so  on.  Let  us  rever- 
ently conceive  the  Saviour  in  the  very  posture 
of  crucifixion,  turning  his  head  and  picking  up 
one  suggestion  after  another  with  the  glances 
of  his  eye  as  the  progress  of  his  thought  shifts 
the  subject  of  remark.  Our  question  is :  Why 
■did  he  say  the  first  thing  first,  and  the  next 
thing  next,  and  all  the  rest  in  just  that  suc- 
cession he  chose  .'  Imagine  him,  if  you  will, 
surrounded  by  concentric  circles  of  hearers, 
some  remote,  as  it  were,  some  near  at  hand, 
and  touching  dach  in  turn. 

He  looks  away  from  him,  sees  the  crucifi- 
crs,  and  utters  his  cry  for  their  forgiveness. 
He  looks  beside  him,  sees  the  penitent  thief, 
and  utters  his  welcome  to  paradise.  He  looks 
beneath  him,  sees  his  mother,  and  utters  his  be- 
queathal  of  her  to  her  new  son.  He  looks  abcrve 
him,  sees  the  mantle  already  drawn  across  his 
Father's  face,  and  utters  his  lament  of  desola- 
tion. He  looks  behind  him,  feels  his  poor 
weakness  of  thirst,  and  utters  his  acknowledg- 
ment of  the  reminder  it  makes  that  Scripture 
must  be  fulfilled.  He  looks  around  him,  sees 
the  Messiah's  work  all  along  the  toiling,  wait- 
ing centuries,  and  utters  his  triumphant  an- 
nouncement that  he  has  completed  it.  He 
looks  before  him,  sees,  far  through  the  bounds 
of  earthly  vision,  his  Father's  face,  and  knows 
his  favor  is  restored,  and  then  utters  his  peace- 
ful surrender. 

Any  one,  therefore,  can  readily  perceive  the 
journey  of  Jesus'  mind  by  these  impressive 
words  coming  out  now  and  then  to  mark  its 
course.  He  begins  on  the  extreme  outskirts 
of  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  works  up  toward 
the  throne  which  is  its  center.  He  starts  with 
the  subjects ;  he  continues  with  the  Prince ; 
he  ends  with  the  King.  He  divides  the  sub- 
jects into  three  classes,  according  to  their 
spiritual  distance;  he  predicates  three  condi- 
tions of  the  Prince,  according  to  the  progress 
and  achievements  of  his  work ;  and  then  he 
ascribes  all  supremacy  to  the  King,  by  yield- 
ing himself  to  his  hands. 

The  Sermon  on  the  Cross,  so  it  follows,  is 
thoroughly  logical,  and  is  actually  founded 
upon  a  symmetrical  analysis  most  exquisite  in 
structure.  These  may  be  seen  to  be  the  par- 
ticulars in  fair  order  •. 


I.  The  subjects  of  the  kingdom. 

1.  The  hardened  and  unconcerned.  A 
prayer  for  them  :  "  Father,  forgive  them." 

2.  The  penitent  and  believing.  The  accept- 
ance of  them  :  "  To-day  with  me  in  paradise." 

3.  The  accepted  and  beloved.  A  care  to- 
ward them  :  "  Behold  thy  mother — thy  son." 

n.  The  Prince  of  the  kingdom. 

1.  The  priestly  Victim.  Under  vicarious 
guilt ;  hence,  forsaken. 

2.  The  prophetic  Revealer.  Under  respon- 
sibility for  all  truth  ;  hence,  careful. 

3.  The  kingly  Leader.  Under  victorious 
banners ;  hence,  jubilant. 

HL  The  King  of  the  kingdom. 

Only  a  single  word  of  serene  self-announce- 
ment, as  he  starts  in  person  to  return  through 
the  lifted  gates  into  the  glory  he  had  before 
ever  the  world  was. 


1051 


Psalm  46. 


L.  M. 


God  is  the  refuge  of  his  saints, 
When  storms  of  sharp  distress  invade  ; 

Ere  we  can  offer  our  complaints, 
Behold  him  present  with  his  aid. 

2  Let  mountains  frotn  their  seats  be  hurled 
Down  to  the  deep,  and  buried  there, 

Convulsions  shake  the  solid  world— 
Our  faith  shall  never  yield  to  fear. 

3  Loud  may  the  troubled  ocean  roar — 
In  sacred  peace  our  souls  abide ; 

While  every  nation,  every  shore, 
Trembles,  and  dreads  the  swelling  tide. 

4  There  is  a  stream  whose  gentle  flow 
Supplies  the  city  of  our  God  ; 

Life,  love,  and  joy,  still  gliding  through, 
And  watering  our  divine  abode. 

5  That  sacred  stream,  thy  holy  word, 
Our  grief  allays,  our  fear  controls  ; 

Sweet  peace  thy  promises  afford, 
And  give  new  strength  to  fainting  souls. 

6  Zion  enjoys  her  Monarch's  love, 
Secure  against  a  threatening  hour; 

Nor  can  her  firm  foundation  move. 
Built  on  his  truth,  and  armed  with  power. 

This  is  Psalm  46  as  Dr.  Isaac  Watts  has 
given  it  in  his  version  ;  it  is  his  First  Part, 
L.  M.,  and  it  stands  to-day  without  a  word 
changed  in  a  hundred  years.  What  mem- 
ories it  carries  in  its  old  familiar  strains; 
how  many  missionary  meetings  have  thrill- 
ed with  the  valiant  and  hopeful  challenge  ok 
that  final  stanza ;  in  how  many  hearts  has 
that  magnificent  tune  "  Ward  "  left  its  notes 
ringing  with  good  cheer  !  The  title  affixed  to 
it  is  in  itself  a  sermon  :  "  The  Church's  Safety 
and  Triumph  among  National  Desolations." 
The  title  of  the  Second  Part  of  the  same 
Psalm  is  the  explanation  of  all  the  power  it 
possesses  :  "  God  fights  for  his  Church."  Mar- 
tin Luther  used  often  to  call  out  to  Melanch- 
thon,  "  Come,  Philip,  let  us  sing  the  forty- 
sixth  Psalm !" 


MISSIONS  AND   GROWTH. 


443 


1 052  Psalm  12.  L.  M. 

Great  God  !  whose  universal  sway 
The  known  and  unknown  worlds  obey  ; 
Now  give  the  kingdom  to  thy  Son  ; 
Extend  his  power,  exalt  his  throne. 

2  As  rain  on  meadows  newly  mown, 
So  shall  he  send  his  influence  down  : 
His  grace,  on  fainting  souls,  distills, 
Like  heavenly  dew  on  thirsty  hills. 

3  The  heathen  lands,  that  lie  beneath 
The  shades  of  overspreading  death, 
Revive  at  his  first  dawning  light, 
And  deserts  blossom  at  the  sight. 

4  The  saints  shall  flourish  in  his  days. 
Dressed  in  the  robes  of  joy  and  praise; 
Peace,  like  a  river,  from  his  throne 
Shall  flow  to  nations  yet  unknown. 

This  hymn  by  Dr.  Isaac  Watts  was  first 
published  in  his  Psalms  0/  David,  1719,  as 
the  first  part  of  his  version  of  Psalm  72.  It 
is  filled  with  the  missionary  spirit  of  its  He- 
brew original,  and  anticipates  joyously  the 
conversion  of  the  world  to  Christ.  It  is  well 
to  remember  in  connection  with  the  early 
history  of  our  own  country  that  the  first  col- 
onists came  as  chartered  workers,  and  that 
efforts  to  Christianize  the  savages  were  begun 
at  once.  The  first  Indian  baptized  by  an  Eng- 
lish minister  was  Manteo,  in  1 587,  in  Virginia. 
Mayhew  and  Eliot,  aided  by  the  first  Prop- 
agation Society,  1649,  rnade  many  Indian 
converts  in  Massachusetts;  and  by  1685  there 
were  28  places  for  Indian  worship  in  Plymouth 
colony,  2,ooo  adult  church  -  members,  and 
3,CKX)  "  Praying  Indians  "  in  New  England. 
Some  of  the  Christian  beliefs  were  hard  for  the 
Indian  mind  to  understand,  and  they  used  to 
ask  of  Eliot  such  questions  as  these  :  *'  What 
is  a  Spirit }"  "  When  such  die  as  never 
heard  of  Christ,  where  do  they  go  .'*"  "  Do 
they  in  heaven  dwell  in  houses,  and  what  do 
they  do  ?"  "  Why  did  not  God  give  all  men 
good  hearts  ?"  "  Since  God  is  all-powerful, 
why  did  he  not  kill  the  devil,  that  made  men 
so  bad  .'"  "  When  you  choose  magistrates 
how  do  you  know  who  are  good  men,  whom 
you  dare  trust  ?"  "  How  shall  I  find  hap- 
piness ?"  The  "  Indian  Apostle,  Eliot,"  was 
born  in  England  in  1604,  and  when  twenty- 
seven  years  old  migrated  to  Massachusetts, 
where  he  became  much  interested  in  the  In- 
dians. He  learned  their  language  through  a 
captive  Pequot-boy,  and  spent  the  rest  of  his 
life  preaching  to  them,  and  translating  books 
into  the  Indian  tongue.  His  great  work, 
The  Indian  Bible,  was  printed  in  Cambridge 
in  1663,  and  was  the  first  Bible  printed  in 
America.  Eliot  was  assisted  by  several 
good  men,  the  Mayhews,  Cotton,  and  others, 
and  many  "  Praying  Indians,"  as  they  were 
called,  were  gathered  into  the  town  of  Natick, 


Mass.,  where  Eliot  often  preached  under  the 
great  oak  which  still  bears  his  name.  He  died. 
May  20,  1690,  beloved  alike  by  white  men 
and  Indians.  It  is  not  strange,  however, 
that  his  memory  is  fading,  for  at  the  present 
day  there  is  not  a  man  living  who  can  read 
the  language  in  which  his  Indian  Bible  is 
written. 

1053  "  Triumphant  Zion.'"  L.  M. 

Triumphant  Zion,  lift  thy  head 
From  dust,  and  darkness,  and  the  dead  ; 
Thougjh  humbled  long,  awake  at  length. 
And  gird  thee  with  thy  Saviour's  strength. 

2  Put  all  thy  beauteous  garments  on, 
And  let  thy  various  charms  be  known  : 
The  worlci  thy  glories  shall  confess, 
Decked  in  the  robes  of  righteousness. 

3  No  more  shall  foes  unclean  invade. 
And  fill  thy  hallowed  walls  with  dread  ; 
No  more  shall  hell's  insulting  host 
Their  victory  and  thy  sorrows  boast. 

4  God,  from  on  high,  thy  groans  will  hear: 
His  hand  thy  ruins  shall  repair: 

Nor  will  thy  watchful  Monarch  cease 
To  guard  thee  in  eternal  peace. 

When  the  great  Boards  of  the  Church  hold 
their  anniversaries  this  clarion  voice  of  music 
and  poetry  fills  the  air.  Who  w^ould  expect 
anything  to  "  Triumphant  Zion,  lift  thy  head  " 
except  "  Anvern"  ?  This  piece  is  No.  107  in 
Dr.  Philip  Doddridge's  Hymns,  1755.  He  has 
entitled  it  "  The  Holy  City  Purified  and 
Guarded,"  and  annexed  to  it  a  reference  to 
Isaiah  52:1,2:  "  Awake !  awake !  put  on  thy 
strength,  O  Zion ;  put  on  thy  beautiful  gar- 
ments, O  Jerusalem,  the  holy  city :  for  hence- 
forth there  shall  no  more  come  into  thee  the 
uncircumcised  and  the  unclean.  Shake  thy- 
self from  the  dust ;  arise,  and  sit  down,  O 
Jerusalem  :  loose  thyself  from  the  bands  of 
thy  neck,  O  captive  daughter  of  Zion." 

1 054  Ancient  Israel.  L.  M. 

Why  on  the  bending  willows  hun^, 
Israel,  still  sleeps  thy  tuneful  strmg? 

Still  mute  remains  thy  sullen  tongue, 
And  Zion's  song  denies  to  sing. 

2  Awake !  thy  sweetest  raptures  raise  ; 
Let  harp  and  voice  unite  their  strains : 

Thy  promised  King  his  scepter  sways: 
Jesus,  thine  own  Messiah,  reigns! 

3  No  taunting  foes  the  song  require; 
No  strangers  mock  thy  captive  chain  ; 

But  friends  provoke  the  silent  lyre. 
And  brethren  ask  the  holy  strain.  ^ 

4  Nor  fear  thy  Salem's  hills  to  wrong. 
If  other  lands  thy;  triumphs  share  : 

A  heavenly  city  claims  thy  song ; 
A  brighter  Salem  rises  there. 

5  By  foreign  streams  no  longer  roam  : 
Nor,  weeping,  think  of  Jordan's  flood  : 

In  every  clime  oehold  a  home, 
In  every  temple  see  thy  God. 

Rev.  James  Joyce,   M.  A.,   was   bom  at 


444 


THE   CHURCH    OF   GOD. 


Frome,  in  Somersetshire,  England,  November 
2,  1 78 1.  For  many  years  he  was  vicar  of 
Dorking,  and  his  death  occurred  there,  Octo- 
ber 9,  1850.  He  published  one  prose  work  of 
a  devotional  nature,  and  two  volumes  of 
poetry  and  religious  meditation.  Three  of 
his  hymns  are  in  general  use,  the  one  quoted 
here  having  been  printed  in  the  Christian 
Observer  for  December,  1809,  with  the  title, 
"  A  second  Hymn  applicable  to  the  present 
condition  of  the  Jews." 


1055 


Home  Missions. 


L.  M. 


Look  from  thy  sphere  of  endless  day, 

O  God  of  mercy  and  of  might ! 
In  pity  look  on  those  who  stray, 

Benighted  in  this  land  of  light. 

2  In  peopled  vale,  in  lonely  glen, 

In  crowded  mart,  by  stream  or  sea, 
How  many  of  the  sons  of  men 
Hear  not  the  message  sent  from  thee ! 

3  Send  forth  thy  heralds.  Lord,  to  call 
The  thoughtless  young,  the  hardened  old, 

A  scattered,  homeless  flock,  till  all 
Be  gathered  to  thy  peaceful  fold. 

4  Send  them  thy  mighty  word  to  speak, 
Till  faith  shall  dawn  and  doubt  depart, 

To  awe  the  bold,  to  stay  the  weak, 
And  bind  and  heal  the  broken  heart. 

5  Then  all  these  wastes,  a  dreary  scene 
That  makes  us  sadden  as  we  gaze, 

Shall  grow  with  living  waters  green, 
And  lift  to  heaven  the  voice  of  praise. 

The  best  of  all  Mr.  Bryant's  contributions 
to  church  services  is  the  one  which  is  called 
his  "  Home  Missionary  Hymn."  It  was  writ- 
ten in  1840,  for  a  public  anniversary  meeting, 
and  was  sung  with  much  enthusiasm.  No 
one  could  ever  doubt  the  intense  patriotism 
of  this  excellent  man.  His  heart  was  always 
full  of  love  for  his  country.  From  the  sum- 
mit of  a  hill  close  to  "  Cedarmere  "  the  eye 
could  look  far  off,  across  meadow,  orchard, 
and  wood,  out  upon  the  lake-like  expanse  of 
Hempstead  Harbor,  and  so  on  into  the  dis- 
tance clear  to  the  cloud-line  of  the  horizon. 
It  is  one  of  the  fairest  landscapes  to  be  found 
in  "  this  land  of  light,"  and  of  course  it  was 
perennially  dear  to  the  poet.  No  wonder,  in 
the  center  of  such  a  vision  of  love  and  peace, 
he  thought  of  "  peopled  vale  and  lonely  glen," 
and  wished  with  a  full  heart  that  all  the 
wastes  should  "  grow  with  living  waters 
green,"  that  faith  should  dawn  and  doubt  de- 
part, and  that  God's  mighty  hand  should 
"  awe  the  bold  and  stay  the  weak,  should 
bind  and  heal  the  broken  heart." 


1056  Psalm  102. 

Let  Zion  and  her  sons  rejoice — 

Behold  the  promised  hour ! 
Her  God  hath  heard  her  mourning  voice, 

And  comes  to  exalt  his  power. 


2  Her  dust  and  ruins  that  remain 
Are  precious  in  our  eyes ; 

Those  ruins  shall  be  built  again, 
And  all  that  dust  shall  rise. 

3  The  Lord  will  raise  Jerusalem, 
And  stand  in  glory  there; 

Nations  shall  bow  before  his  name, 
And  kings  attend  with  fear. 

4  He  sits  a  sovereign  on  his  throne, 
With  pity  in  his  eyes ; 

He  hears  the  dying  prisoners'  groan, 
And  sees  their  sighs  arise. 

5  He  frees  the  souls  condemned  to  death  ; 
Nor,  when  his  saints  complain, 

Shall  it  be  said  that  praying  breath 
Was  ever  spent  in  vain. 

Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  version  of  Psalm  102,  Sec- 
ond Part.  C.  M.  He  has  entitled  it  "  Prayer 
heard,  and  Zion  restored."  It  is  curious  to  see 
what  work  our  "  restorers"  would  make  with 
such  a  case  as  this — those  who  fly  into  vast 
indignation  over  alterations  in  a  poet's  hymn 
after  he  is  dead.  Would  they  prefer,  in  place 
of  the  smooth  three  lines  with  which  the  last 
verse  of  this  fine  Psalm  closes  now,  to  have 
the  original  work  of  Dr.  Watts  put  in  }  Read 
this  :  "  It  sha'  n't  be  said,  '  That  praying 
breath  was  ever  spent  in  vain.'  " 


1 057  "  Can  a  mother  forget?"  C.  M. 

A  MOTHER  may  forgetful  be. 

For  human  love  is  frail : 
But  thy  Creator's  love  to  thee, 

O  Zion,  cannot  fail. 

2  No :  thy  dear  name  engraven  stands. 
In  characters  of  love, 

On  thine  almighty  Father's  hands, 
And  never  shall  remove. 

3  Before  his  ever-watchful  eye 
Thy  mournful  state  appears, 

And  every  groan  and  every  sigh 
Divine  compassion  hears. 

4  O  Zion,  learn  to  doubt  no  more. 
Be  every  fear  suppressed ; 

Unchanging  truth,  and  love,  and  power. 
Dwell  in  thy  Saviour's  breast. 

In  the  Poems  on  Subjects  Chiefly  Devotional, 
by  "  Theodosia,"  1760,  Miss  Anne  Steele  has 
this  hymn,  commencing  "  The  Lord  forgets 
his  wonted  grace,"  in  seven  stanzas.  The 
piece  before  us  begins  with  the  fourth  verse 
of  that,  and  uses  only  the  encouraging  por- 
tion of  Isaiah  49:14-17,  upon  which  the 
whole  poem  is  founded  :  "  But  Zion  said.  The 
Lord  hath  forsaken  me,  and  my  Lord  hath 
forgotten  me.  Can  a  woman  forget  her  suck- 
ing child,  that  she  should  not  have  compas- 
sion on  the  son  of  her  womb  ?  yea,  they  may 
forget,  yet  will  I  not  forget  thee.  Behold,  I 
have  graven  thee  upon  the  palms  of  my 
hands ;  thy  walls  are  continually  before  me." 
C.  M.       1 058  Psalm  67.  C.  M. 

Shine,  mighty  God !  on  Zion  shine 
With  beams  of  heavenly  grace ; 

Reveal  thy  power  through  all  our  coasts, 
And  show  thy  smiling  face. 


MISSIONS   AND   GROWTH. 


445 


2  When  shall  thy  name,  from  shore  to  shore, 
Sound  all  the  earth  abroad, 

And  distant  nations  know  and  love 
Their  Saviour  and  their  God  ? 

3  Sing  to  the  Lord,  ye  distant  lands ! 
Sing  loud  with  solemn  voice; 

Let  every  tongue  exalt  his  praise, 
And  every  heart  rejoice. 

4  Earth  shall  obey  her  Maker's  will, 
And  yield  a  full  increase: 

Our  God  will  crown  his  chosen  land 
VV^ith  fruitfulness  and  peace. 

5  God,  the  Redeemer,  scatters  round 
His  choicest  favors  here. 

While  the  creation's  utmost  bound 
Shall  see,  adore,  and  fear. 

This  version  of  Psalm  67  has  in  its  original 
form  seven  stanzas.  Dr.  Isaac  Watts  ren- 
dered it  necessary  for  us  on  this  side  of  the 
sea  to  make  some  decisive  alterations  in  his 
expressions  in  order  to  adapt  the  local  and 
insular  form  he  chose  for  his  purpose  to  our 
part  of  the  world.  His  first  line  reads, 
"  Shine,  mighty  God,  on  Britain  shine."  This 
is  patriotic,  and  no  one  finds  any  fault  Vi^ith 
it,  "  While  British  tongues  exalt  his  praise, 
and  British  hearts  rejoice."  Hence  come 
the  changes  noticeable  in  the  phraseology  of 
the  first  and  third  stanzas.  Thus  we  fall  into 
possession  of  one  of  the  finest  lyrics  for  mis- 
sionary meetings  that  we  have  as  the  common 
heritage  of  the  Church. 

1 059  The  Fullness  of  the  Gentiles.  los. 

Rise,  crowned  with  light,  imperial  Salem,  rise! 
Exalt  thy  towering  head,  ana  lift  thine  eyes; 
See  heaven  its  sparkling  portals  wide  display, 
And  break  upon  thee  in  a  flood  of  day. 

2  See  a  long  race  thy  spacious  courts  adorn ; 
See  future  sons  and  daughters  yet  unborn 
In  crowding  ranks  on  every  side  arise. 
Demanding  life,  impatient  for  the  skies. 

3  See  barbarous  nations  at  thy  gates  attend. 
Walk  in  the  light,  and  in  thy  temple  bend  ; 

See  thy  bright  altars  thronged  with  prostrate  kings, 
While  every  land  its  joyful  tribute  brings. 

4  The  seas  shall  waste,  the  skies  to  smoke  decay. 
Rocks  fall  to  dust,  and  mountains  melt  away  : 
But  fixed  his  word,  his  saving  power  remains ; 
Thy  realms  shall  last,  thy  own  Messiah  reigns ! 

Alexander  Pope  has  had  a  name  in  relig- 
ious literature  by  reason  of  his  Messiah,  pub- 
lished in  171 2,  his  Universal  Prayer,  1732, 
and  his  Dying  Christian  to  his  Soul,  171 2. 
The  story  of  his  social  life  in  Twickenham, 
and  of  his  literary  life  during  the  years  in 
which  he  shone  with  other  stars  in  one  of  the 
brightest  galaxies  of  English  history,  can  be 
found  elsewhere.  He  was  born  May  21, 
1688 ;  he  was  never  anything  but  a  cripple 
and  an  invalid.  His  soul  was  princely  in  its 
gifts ;  his  body  was  dwarfed  and  miserable. 
He  began  to  write  poems  at  sixteen  years  of 
age.      For   nearly  an   entire  generation   his 


villa  at  Twickenham  was  a  center  of  attrac- 
tion.    He  died  May  30,  1744. 

This  piece  of  poetry  appeared  in  the  Spec- 
tator, May  14,  171 2.  Addison  welcomed  it 
with  generous  praise.  It  is  not  a  hymn,  but 
an  extract  from  the  Messiah,  and  serves  well 
as  a  lyric  song.  Small  critics  and  poetasters 
sometimes  repeat  the  question  which  was 
once  asked  in  Dr.  Johnson's  time,  and  to 
which  he  gave  answer  specifically  in  his  Lives 
of  the  Poets  :  "If  Pope  be  not  a  poet,  where 
is  poetry  to  be  found  ?  To  circumscribe 
poetry  by  a  definition  will  only  show  the  nar- 
rowness of  the  definer,  though  a  definition 
which  shall  exclude  Pope  will  not  easily  be 
made.  Let  us  look  round  upon  the  present 
time,  and  back  upon  the  past ;  let  us  inquire 
to  whom  the  voice  of  mankind  has  decreed 
the  wreath  of  poetry ;  let  their  productions 
be  examined  and  their  claims  stated,  and 
the  pretensions  of  Pope  will  be  no  more  dis- 
puted." 


I060 


The  Latter  Day  Glory. 


Lord  of  all  worlds,  incline  thy  bounteous  ear. 
Thy  children's  voice,  in  tender  mercy,  hear; 
Bear  thy  blest  promise,  fixed  as  hills,  in  mind. 
And  shed  renewing  grace  on  lost  mankind  ! 

2  Let  Zion's  walls  before  thee  ceaseless  stand. 
Dear  as  thine  eye,  and  graven  on  thy  hand  ; 
From  earth's  far  regions  Jacob's  sons  restore, 
Oppressed  by  man,  and  scourged  by  thee  no  more. 

3  Then  shall  mankind  no  more  in  darkness  mourn, 
Then  happy  nations  in  a  day  be  born  ! 

From  east  to  west  thy  glorious  name  be  one. 
And  one  pure  worship  hail  the  eternal  Son. 

4  Then  shall  thy  saints  exult  with  joy  divine  ; 
Their  virtues  quicken,  and  their  lives  refine ; 
Heaven  o'er  the  world  unfold  a  brighter  day. 
And  Jesus  spread  his  reign  from  sea  to  sea  I 

The  name  of  Dwight  is  one  of  the  most 
illustrious  in  the  history  of  our  American  lit- 
erature and  jurisprudence,  and  the  Christian 
name  of  Timothy  seems  to  have  been  a  favor- 
ite in  the  family.  Indeed,  it  is  easy  to  fall 
into  confusion  among  the  celebrities  ;  for  two 
of  the  name  have  been  Presidents  of  Yale 
College.  Dr.  Timothy  Dwight,  the  elder  in 
the  line,  who  wrote  the  hymn  we  sing  so 
much  to  old  "  Savannah,"  was  licensed  to 
preach  in  i  "j"]"] ;  and  there  being  a  dearth  of 
chaplains  then  in  the  Continental  army,  he 
soon  afterward  became  officially  attached  to 
Parsons'  brigade  of  the  Connecticut  line.  It 
is  possible  that  in  this  may  be  found  an  ex- 
planation of  a  certain  military  air  and  patriotic 
tone  discoverable  in  much  of  his  sacred 
poetry.  In  his  later  years  he  was  noted  for 
his  dignity  of  presence  ;  some  of  us  will  recol- 
lect as  a  memory  of  our  childhood  how  our 
old  and  dear  friend  Peter  Parley  (or  Honor- 


446 


THE  CHURCH   OF  GOD. 


able  S.  G,  Goodrich,  as  we  learned  it  was 
better  to  call  him  long  afterward)  used  to 
speak  of  "  the  imposing  grandeur  of  Presi- 
dent Dwight's  personal  appearance  in  the 
pulpit."  In  Sprague's  Annals  it  is  said  of 
him :  "His  features  were  regular,  his  eye 
black  and  piercing,  but  benignant,  and  his 
countenance  altogether  indicative  of  a  high 
order  of  mind  ;  his  voice  was  rich  and  melo- 
dious, adapted  alike  to  music  and  oratory." 
This  gave  to  his  life  an  unusual  power  with 
those  who  knew  him.  Such  a  peculiarity 
must  be  taken  into  account  when  we  remark 
the  g^eat  success  he  achieved.  While  he  was 
settled  in  the  rural  parish  of  Greenfield  Hill  he 
established  a  school  which  soon  gained  a  na- 
tional reputation,  showing  that  its  principal 
possessed  the  highest  qualifications  as  a 
teacher  of  the  young.  In  1787  he  received 
the  degree  of  doctor  of  divinity  from  the  Col- 
lege of  New  Jersey,  and  in  18 10  that  of  doc- 
tor of  laws  from  Harvard.  His  main  reputa- 
tion was  reached,  rewarded,  and  augmented 
when,  in  1795,  Dr.  Dwight  was  called  to  the 
presidency  of  Yale  College ;  this  office  he 
held  until  his  death.  The  poem  now  before 
us  is  his  version  of  Psalm  53,  and  was  in- 
cluded in  his  revision  of  IVatls,  to  which  he 
added  Several  pieces  of  his  own,  1800. 

1061  "  Come  over  and  help  us."  7s,  6s.  D. 

■   FrAm  Greenland's  icy  mountains, 

From  India's  coral  strand, 
Where  Afric's  sunny  fountains 

Roll  down  their  golden  sand — 
From  many  an  ancient  river, 

From  many  a  palmy  plain, 
They  call  us  to  deliver 

Their  land  from  error's  chain. 

2  What  though  the  spicy  breezes 
Blow  soft  o'er  Ceylon's  isle; 

Though  every  prospect  pleases, 

Ana  only  man  is  vile; 
In  vain  with  lavish  kindness 

The  gifts  of  God  are  strown ; 
The  heathen,  in  his  blindness, 

Bows  down  to  wood  and  stone ! 

3  Shall  we,  whose  souls  are  lighted 
With  wisdom  from  on  high — 

Shall  we,  to  men  benighted. 

The  lamp  of  life  deny  ? 
Salvation,  oh,  salvation  ! 

The  joyful  sound  proclaim, 
Till  earth's  remotest  nation 

Has  learned  Messiah's  name. 

4  Waft,  waft,  ye  winds,  his  story, 
And  you,  ye  waters,  roll. 

Till,  like  a  sea  of  glory, 

It  spreads  from  pole  to  pole ; 
Till  o'er  our  ransomed  nature 

The  Lamb  for  sinners  slain, 
Redeemer,  King,  Creator, 

In  bliss  returns  to  reign ! 

The  story  of  this  wonderful  hymn  of  Bishop 
Reginald  Heber  has  been  told  over  and  over 
again.    A  fac-simile  of  the  original  manu- 


script is  in  existence  to  this  day.  On  the  fly- 
leaf of  this  appears  the  following  account  of 
its  origin,  penned  by  Thomas  Edgworth,  a 
solicitor,  formerly  residing  in  Wrexham,  Eng- 
land, where  the  fac-simile  was  made :  "  On 
Whitsunday,  1819,  the. late  Dr.  Shipley,  Dean 
of  St.  Asaph  and  Vicar  of  Wrexham, 
preached  a  sermon  in  W^rexham  Church  in 
aid  of  the  Society  for  the  Propagation  of  the 
Gospel  in  Foreign  Parts.  That  day  was  also 
fixed  upon  for  the  commencement  of  the 
Sunday  evening  lectures  intended  to  be  es- 
tablished in  the  Church,  and  the  late  Bishop 
of  Calcutta  (Heber),  then  rector  of  Hodnet, 
the  Dean's  son-in-law,  undertook  to  deliver 
the  first  lecture.  In  the  course  of  the  Satur- 
day previous,  the  Dean  and  his  son-in-law 
being  together  in  the  vicarage,  the  former  re- 
quested Heber  to  write  '  something  for  them 
to  sing  in  the  morning ;'  and  he  retired  for 
that  purpose  from  the  table,  where  the  Dean 
and  a  few  friends  were  sitting,  to  a  distant 
part  of  the  room.  In  a  short  time  the  Dean 
inquired  :  '  W^hat  have  you  written  ?'  Heber, 
having  then  composed  the  first  three  verses, 
read  them  over.  '  There,  there,  that  will  do 
very  well,'  said  the  Dean.  '  No,  no,  the 
sense  is  not  complete,'  replied  Heber.  Ac- 
cordingly he  added  the  fourth  verse,  and,  the 
Dean  being  inexorable  to  his  repeated  request 
of '  Let  me  add  another,  oh,  let  me  add  an- 
other,' thus  completed  the  hymn,  of  which 
the  annexed  is  a  fac-simile,  and  which  has 
since  become  so  celebrated.  It  was  sung  the 
next  morning,  in  Wrexham  Church,  the  first 
time." 

The  tune,  "  Missionary  Hymn,"  to  which 
this  piece  is  universally  sung  in  America,  was 
composed  by  Dr.  Lowell  Mason.  The  history 
of  its  composition  is  in  like  measure  roman- 
tic ;  the  family  of  the  now  deceased  musi- 
cian have  very  kindly  supplied  the  facts. 

It  seems  that  a  lady  residing  in  Savannah, 
Ga.,  had  in  some  way  become  possessed  of  a 
copy  of  the  words,  sent  to  this  countr}'  from 
England.  This  was  in  1823.  She  was  arrested 
by  the  beauty  of  the  poetry  and  its  possibilities 
as  a  hymn.  But  the  meter  of  7s,  6s,  D.  was 
almost  new  in  this  period  ;  there  was  no  tune 
which  would  fit  the  measure.  She  had  been 
told  of  a  young  clerk  in  a  bank,  Lowell  Ma- 
son by  name,  just  a  few  doors  away  down 
the  street.  It  was  said  that  he  had  the  gift 
for  making  beautiful  songs.  She  sent  her 
son  to  this  genius  in  music,  and  in  a  half- 
hour's  time  he  returned  with  this  composi- 
tion. Like  the  hymn  it  voices,  it  was  done 
at  a  stroke,  but  it  will  last  through  the  ages. 
This  young  man  grew  up  to  be  the  leading 


MISSIONS   AND   GROWTH. 


447 


DR.    LOWELL  MASON. 

spirit  in  the  American  Church  in  all  matters 
of  sacred  music.  He  was  born  in  Medfield, 
Mass.,  January  8,  1792  ;  he  died  in  Orange, 
N.  J.,  August  II,  1872. 

f  062  The  day  of  Jubilee.  7s,  6s.  D. 

How  beauteous  on  the  mountains 

The  feet  of  him  that  brings, 
Like  streams  from  living  fountains, 

Good  tidings  of  good  things ; 
That  publisheth  salvation, 

Ana  jubilee  release, 
To  every  tribe  and  nation, 

God's  reign  of  joy  and  peace ! 

2  Lift  up  thy  voice,  O  watchman  ! 
And  shout,  from  Zion's  towers. 

Thy  hallelujah  chorus — 

"  The  victory  is  ours  !  " 
The  Lord  shall  build  up  Zion  • 

In  glory  and  renown, 
And  Jesus,  Judah's  lion. 

Shall  wear  his  rightful  crown. 

3  Break  forth  in  hymns  of  gladness  : 
O  waste  Jerusalem ! 

Let  songs,  instead  of  sadness, 

Thy  jubilee  proclaim; 
The  Lord,  in  strength  victorious, 

Upon  thy  foes  hath  trod  ; 
Behold,  O  earth!  the  glorious 

Salvation  of  our  God  ! 

Benjamin  Gough  is  the  author  of  this 
beautiful  paraphrase.  It  was  published  in 
Lyra  Sabbatica,  1865.  The  passage  upon 
which  the  entire  strain  is  founded  is  that  in 
which  the  return  of  the  Jews  from  the  cap- 
tivity in  Babylon  is  foretold,  Isaiah  52 :  7-10. 
Fallen  Jerusalem  is  represented  as  a  crown- 
less  queen,  who  for  years  is  bewailing  her 
desolation,  in  poverty  and  in  shame  waiting 
for  her  deliverance.  Day  by  day  she  goes 
out  upon  the  broken  ramparts  to  look  for  the 
coming  back  of  her  exiled  subjects  and  sons. 
Day  by  day  she  is   disappointed,  and  is  sore 


with  longing,  The  bright  morning  comes  at 
last,  however;  she  sees  upon  the  ridge  of 
Mount  Olivet  a  long  line  of  soldiers  and 
travelers,  men,  women,  and  children,  just  ap- 
pearing in  the  yellow  light  of  the  dawn  on 
the  crest  of  the  hill !  She  hears  the  blast  of  the 
trumpets,  and  the  great  voices  of  the  people 
singing  the  songs  of  Zion.  In  an  instant  she 
returns  the  cry  of  joy :  "  How  beautiful  upon 
the  mountains  are  the  feet  of  him  that  bring- 
eth  good  tidings,  that  publisheth  peace  ;  that 
bringeth  good  tidings,  of  good,  that  publish- 
eth salvation;  that  saith  unto  (Zion,  Thy  God 
reigneth  !  Thy  watchmen  ^hall  lift  up  the 
voice ;  with  the  voice  together  shall  they 
sing  ;  for  they  shall  see  eye  to  eye,  when  the 
Lord  shall  bring  again  Zion.  Break  forth 
into  joy,  sing  together,  ye  waste  places  of 
Jerusalem  ;  for  the  Lord  hath  comforted  his 
people,  he  hath  redeemed  Jerusalem.  The 
Lord  hath  made  bare  his  holy  arm  in  the 
eyes  of  all  the  nations ;  and  all  the  ends  of  the 
earth  shall  see  the  salvation  of  our  God."  This 
passage  is  brought  into  spiritual  service.  Just 
think  of  it :  if  there  had  been  for  this  lost  race 
only  one  minister  of  the  gospel  to  show  God's 
grace,  and  if  he  were  suddenly  to  stand  on 
the  horizon  at  dawn,  like  the  angel  John  saw 
"  standing  in  the  sun,"  how  the  world  would 
ring  with  singing  his  welcome ' 

1 063  Home  Missions.  7s,  6s.  D. 

Our  country's  voice  is  pleading, 

Ye  men  of  God,  arise  ! 
His  providence  is  leading, 

The  land  before  you  lies ; 
Day-gleams  are  o'er  it  brightening. 

And  promise  clothes  the  soil ; 
Wide  fields,  for  harvest  whitening. 

Invite  the  reaper's  toil. 

2  Go,  where  the  waves  are  breaking 
On  California's  shore. 

Christ's  precious  gospel  taking, 

More  rich  than  golden  ore ; 
On  Alleghany's  mountains, 

Through  all  the  western  vale, 
Beside  Missouri's  fountains. 

Rehearse  the  wondrous  tale. 

3  The  love  of  Christ  unfolding, 
Speed  on  from  east  to  west. 

Till  all,  his  cross  beholding. 

In  him  are  fully  blest. 
Great  Author  of  salvation, 

Haste,  haste  the  glorious  day, 
When  we,  a  ransomed  nation. 

Thy  scepter  shall  obey. 

Miss  Maria  Frances  Hill,  daughter  of  Thom- 
as Hill  of  Exeter,  England,  was  bom  in 
Paris,  France,  January  30,  181 9,  and  married 
to  G.  W.  Anderson,  a  professor  in  the  Uni- 
versity of  Lewisburg,  Pa.  Two  hymns  by  her 
appeared  in  the  Baptist  Harp,  1 849 ;  the  one 
here  given  has  come  into  general  use  from  its 
national  fervor.  It  is  a  call  to  the  men  who 
are  pioneers  of  civilization  in  our  country  to 


44« 


THE   CHURCH    OF   GOD. 


be  at  the  same  time  true  apostles  of  Christ, 
and  so  reflect  the  spirit  of  the  pilgrims,  who, 
when  the  "  Mayflower "  was  passing  Cape 
Cod  in  the  midst  of  a  storm,  sat  down  in  the 
little  cabin  and  drafted  this  covenant,  contain- 
ing the  germ  of  American  liberty : 

"  In  the  name  of  God,  Amen.  We  whose 
names  are  undermentioned,  the  loyal  subjects 
of  our  dread  sovereign  King  James,  by  the 
grace  of  God,  etc.,  having  undertaken,  for  the 
glor}-  of  God,  and  advancement  of  the  Chris- 
tian faith,  and  honor  of  our  king  and  country, 
a  voyage  to  plant  the  first  colony  in  the  North- 
ern parts  of  \'irginia,  do  by  these  presents 
solemnly  and  mutually,  in  the  presence  of  God 
and  of  one  another,  covenant  and  combine 
ourselves  into  a  civil  body,  politic,  for  our  bet- 
ter ordering  and  preservation,  and  furtherance 
of  the  ends  aforesaid,  and  by  virtue  hereof,  to 
enact,  constitute,  and  frame  such  just  and 
equal  laws,  ordinances,  acts,  constitutions,  and 
offices,  from  time  to  time,  as  shall  be  thought 
most  meet  and  convenient  for  the  general 
good  of  the  colony,  unto  which  we  promise 
all  due  submission  and  obedience." 

1064  Christian  Union,  7s,  6s.  D. 

And  is  the  time  approaching, 

Bv  prophets  long  foretold, 
When  all  shall  dwell  together, 

One  shepherd  and  one  icAA  ? 
Shall  every  idol  perish, 

To  moles  and  bats  be  thrown. 
And  every  prayer  be  offered 

To  God  in  Christ  alone? 

2  Shall  Jew  and  Gentile,  meeting 
From  many  a  distant  shore, 

Around  one  altar  kneelmg, 

One  common  Lord  adore? 
Shall  all  that  now  divides  us 

Remove  and  pass  away, 
Like  shadows  of  the  morning 

Before  the  blaze  of  day? 

3  Shall  all  that  now  unites  us 
More  sweet  and  lasting  prove, 

A  closer  bond  of  union, 

In  a  blest  land  of  love  ? 
Shall  war  be  learned  no  longer, 

Shall  strife  and  tumult  cease, 
All  earth  his  blessed  kingdom, 

The  Lord  and  Prince  of  Peace? 

4  O  long-expected  dawning, 
Come  with  thy  cheering  ray  ! 

When  shall  the  morning  brighten, 

The  shadows  flee  away  ? 
O  sweet  anticipation  ! 

It  cheers  the  watchers  on, 
To  pray,  and  hope,  and  labor, 

Till  the  dark  night  be  gone. 

Miss  Jane  Borthwick  has  been  exceedingly 
successful  as  a  translator  when  associated 
with  her  sister  in  Hymns  from  the  Land  of 
Luther.  The  piece  now  before  us,  taken 
from  her  Thoughts  for  Thoughtful  Hours, 
1859,  will  show  how  admirably  she  would 
have  pleased  God's  singing  children  if  she 
had  been  willing  to  compose  other  original 


hymns  like  this.  She  entitled  it,  "  Anticipa- 
tions of  Heaven,"  thus  seeming  to  suggest 
that  the  grouping  of  all  Christians,  and  the 
conversion  of  all  nations,  would  indeed  be- 
come a  foretaste  of  the  believer's  everlasting 
felicity.  The  first  convert  in  Europe  was  a 
working-woman  from  Asia.  Lydia  became 
a  Christian  when  Paul  came  to  the  small  en- 
closure of  stones  where  "  prayer  was  wont  to 
be  made."  No  cathedral,  no  church,  no  or- 
ganization— a  mere  conference  of  females,  an 
inconspicuous  woman's  prayer-meeting.  In 
the  history  of  this  world  there  have  always 
been  found  an  uneasy  and  immodest  few  who 
would  claim  for  their  churches  and  rubrics 
what  the  Jews  demanded  for  Zion,  and  the 
Samaritans  for  Gerizim — namely,  the  exclu- 
sive presence  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts.  They 
imitate  the  ancient  Moors,  who  arrogated 
that  the  paradise  of  the  prophet  was  situated 
precisely  in  that  space  of  heaven  which  over- 
hung their  kingdom  of  Grenada,  so  that  their 
citizens  had  easiest  access.  But  how  strikingly 
is  all  such  bigotry  challenged  by  just  one  in- 
stance like  this  of  prayer  heard  and  prayer  an- 
swered within  a  rejected  Proseucha  thrust 
contemptuously  beyond  the  Philippian  gate. 
Here,  perhaps,  is  where  Paul  gained  the  les- 
son that  he  afterward  interjects  in  a  letter  to 
Timothy :  "  I  will  therefore  that  men  pray 
everywhere,  lifting  up  holy  hands,  without 
wrath  and  doubting."  Out  under  the  great 
arch  of  the  heavens,  on  all  continents  and  in 
all  climes,  with  nothing  between  them  and 
the  very  countenance  of  God,  men  may  al- 
ways be  sure  of  a  fitting  place  for  supplica- 
tions :, 

"  One  grand  cathedral,  boundless  as  our  wonder, 

Whose  quenchless  lamps  the  sun  and  moon  supply; 
Its  choir — the  winds  and  waves,  its  organ — thunder. 
Its  dome — the  sky." 

1 065  Psalm  72.  78,  6s.  D. 

Hail  to  the  Lord's  anointed. 

Great  David's  greater  Son  ! 
Hail,  in  the  time  appointed. 

His  reign  on  earth  begun ! 
He  comes  to  break  oppression, 

To  set  the  captive  free, 
To  take  away  transgression. 

And  rule  in  equity. 

2  He  comes  with  succor  speedy. 
To  those  who  suffer  wrong ; 

To  help  the  poor  and  needy, 

And  bid  the  weak  be  strong; 
To  give  them  songs  for  sij^hing, 

Their  darkness  turn  to  light. 
Whose  souls,  condemned  and  aj'ing, 

Were  precious  in  his  sight. 

3  He  shall  come  down  like  showers 
Upon  the  fruitful  earth, 

And  love,  and  joy,  like  flowers. 

Spring  in  his  path  to  birth  : 
Before  him,  on  the  mountains. 

Shall  peace  the  herald  go, 
And  righteousness  in  fountains 

From  hill  to  valley  flow. 


MISSIONS  AND   GROWTH. 


449 


4  Arabia's  desert-ranger 

To  him  shall  bow  the  knee  ; 
The  Ethiopian  stranger 

His  glory  come  to  see : 
With  offerings  of  devotion, 

Ships  from  the  isles  shall  meet, 
To  pour  the  wealth  of  ocean 

In  tribute  at  his  feet. 

5  Kings  shall  fall  down  before  him, 
And  gold  and  incense  bring : 

All  nations  shall  adore  him  ; 

His  praise  all  people  sing ; 
For  he  shall  have  clominion 

O'er  river,  sea,  and  shore. 
Far  as  the  eagle's  pinion 

Or  dove's  light  wing  can  soar. 

6  For  him  shall  prayer  unceasing 
And  daily  vows  ascend  ; 

His  kingdom  still  increasing, 

A  kingdom  without  end. 
The  heavenly  dew  shall  nourish 

A  seed  in  weakness  sown. 
Whose  fruit  shall  spread  and  flourish, 

And  shake  like  Lebanon. 

7  O'er  every  foe  victorious, 
He  on  his  throne  shall  rest ; 

From  age  to  age  more  glorious. 

All-blessing  and  all-blessed. 
The  tide  of  time  shall  never 

His  covenant  remove ; 
His  name  shall  stand  for  ever. 

His  great,  best  name  of  Love. 

Written  by  James  Montgomery  as  an  ode, 
sung  at  one  of  the  Moravian  settlements  in 
Britain  on  Christmas,  1821.  This  author  was 
in  the  habit  of  repeating,  when  lecturing  on 
literature  or  poetry,  selected  pieces  for  an  oc- 
casional illustration.  On  one  occasion,  April, 
1822,  he  was  present  at  a  meeting  of  the 
Wesleyan  (Methodist)  missionary  associa- 
tion in  Liverpool.  The  venerable  Dr.  Adam 
Clarke  was  in  the  chair.  The  poet  was 
speaking  from  the  stand.  When  the  climax 
of  his  address  was  reached  he  closed  it  with 
the  recital  of  this  fresh  version  of  Psalm  72. 
It  produced  so  deep  an  impression  upon 
the  audience  that  it  was  claimed  as  the  pe- 
culiar reminiscence  of  an  assembly  so  dis- 
tinguished by  the  Christian  citizens  of  Liver- 
pool where  it  was  delivered.  The  moderator 
asked,  in  his  own  behalf,  the  privilege  of 
embodying  it  in  his  volume,  as  it  produced  so 
exquisitely  the  very  thoughts  of  the  Psalmist ; 
and  then  he  requested  the  Moravian  editor  to 
undertake  the  task  of  rendering  the  whole 
Psalter  into  English.  An  intimation  like  this 
seems  to  have  abashed  the  modest  poet,  for 
he  afterward  made  reply  that  his  "  hand 
trembled  to  touch  the  harp  of  Zion."  The 
hymn,  as  used  largely  in  this  country,  pre- 
sents only  three  out  of  the  eight  double  stan- 
zas which  Dr.  Clark  printed  in  his  Com- 
mentary, with  the  grace  of  an  entire 
quarto  page  for  its  display.  Some  compilers 
have  shown  a  moderate  enterprise  in  looking 
after  the  other   lines,  and    so  the  churches 


have  learned  that  there  are  good  verses  un- 
touched. 

1 066  The  morning  light.  7s,  6s.  D. 

The  morning  light  is  breaking  ; 

The  darkness  disappears ! 
The  sons  of  earth  are  waking 

To  penitential  tears ; 
Each  breeze  that  sweeps  the  ocean 

Brings  tidings  from  afar 
Of  nations  in  commotion, 

Prepared  for  Zion's  war. 

2  See  heathen  nations  bending 
Before  the  God  we  love. 

And  thousand  hearts  ascending 

In  gratitude  above; 
While  sinners,  now  confessing. 

The  gospel  call  obey, 
And  seek  the  Saviour's  blessing — 

A  nation  in  a  day. 

3  Blest  river  of  salvation  ! 
Pursue  thine  onward  way  ; 

Flow  thou  to  every  nation, 

Nor  in  thy  richness  stay  : 
Stay  not  till  all  the  lowly 

Triumphant  reach  their  home  : 
Stay  not  till  all  the  holy 

Proclaim — "  The  Lord  is  come  !" 

Written  in  1832  and  printed  in  Dr.  Hast- 
ings' Spiritual  Songs,  1 833.  No  characteris- 
tic of  Dr.  Samuel  Francis  Smith,  the  author 
of  the  hymn  now  before  us,  is  more  notice- 
able than  his  love  for  mission  work  at  home 
and  abroad.  His  heart  is  full  and  his  hopes 
are  confident.  A  modern  annotator  speaks 
of  this  piece  as  "  pleasantly  optimistic,"  not 
meaning,  of  course,  any  slight  upon  its  spirit. 
It  is  so,  and  it  appears  to  most  of  the  sing- 
ing Christians  that  more  of  this  serene  trust 
and  bright  anticipation  is  needed  in  all  the 
churches.  It  might  have  been  expected  that 
such  a  lyric  would  be  almost  like  a  war  song 
among  the  mission  converts  the  world  over. 
It  has  been  widely  translated  into  the  lan- 
guages of  the  heathen,  and  it  is  sung  with 
utmost  enthusiasm  in  Italian,  Spanish,  Swed- 
ish, Chinese,  and  Siamese.  The  comfort 
which  one  may  have  in  the  good  that  comes 
back  to  him  from  the  making  of  a  good  hymn 
has  been  frankly  described  in  a  note  from  the 
author  of  this ;  he  says  of  it  that  it  "  has 
been  a  great  favorite  at  missionary  gather- 
ings, and  I  have  myself  heard  it  sung  in  five 
or  six  different  languages  in  Europe  and  Asia. 
It  is  a  favorite  with  the  Burmans,  Karens,  and 
Telugus,  from  whose  lips  I  have  heard  it  re- 
peatedly." To  this  he  adds  afterward  that  he 
had  listened  to  it  "among  the  Portuguese 
Protestants  in  their  own  country,  as  also  in 
Brazil  in  South  America." 


1067  Psalm  14. 

Oh,  that  the  Lord's  salvation 

Were  out  of  Zion  come, 
To  heal  his  ancient  nation. 

To  lead  his  outcasts  home ! 

29 


7s,  6s,  D. 


450 


THE  CHURCH   OF   GOD. 


How  long  the  holy  city 

Shall  heathen  feet  profane  ? 
Return,  O  Lord,  hi  pity, 

Rebuild  her  walls  again. 

2  Let  fall  thy  rod  of  terror, 

Thy  saving  grace  impart  ; 
Roll  back  the  vail  of  error, 

Release  the  fettered  heart ; 
Let  Israel,  home  returning, 

Their  lost  Messiah  see ; 
Give  oil  of  joy  for  moumine, 

And  bind  thy  Church  to  tnee. 

In  his  Spirit  of  the  Psalms,  1834,  Rev. 
Henry  Francis  Lyte  gives  this  as  his  version 
of  Psalm  14.  It  bears  on  only  the  final  verse 
of  it,  however.  The  hymn  is  useful  in  its 
present  connection  at  meetings  for  the  sake 
of  missions  among  the  Jews.  One  of  the 
most  favorable  of  all  our  modem  signs  of 
Christ's  near  coming  is  found  in  the  rapid 
repopulation  of  Palestine  and  the  evident 
"  home  returning  "  of  Israel. 


1068 


Departing  Missionaries. 


7s,  6s.  D. 


Roll  on,  thou  mighty  ocean; 

And,  as  thy  billows  flow. 
Bear  messengers  of  mercy 

To  every  land  below. 
Arise,  ye  gales,  and  waft  them 

Safe  to  the  destined  shore; 
That  man  may  sit  in  darkness 

And  death's  black  shade  no  more. 

2  O  thou  eternal  Ruler, 

Who  boldest  in  thine  arm 
The  tempests  of  the  ocean, 

Protect  them  from  all  harm  ! 
Thy  presence.  Lord,  be  with  them. 

Wherever  they  may  be : 
Though  far  from  us,  who  love  them. 

Still  let  them  be  with  thee. 

One  of  those  apparently  insignificant  but 
really  useful  hymns,  thoughtfully  provided  by 
James  Edmeston  for  any  occasion  when  the 
people  would  come  together  for  a  farewell 
greeting  to  missionaries  just  about  to  sail. 
He   published  it    in  his  Missionary  Hymns, 


1 069  Sun  of  Righteousness.  8s,  ys,  4s. 

O'ER  the  gloomy  hills  of  darkness. 

Cheered  by  no  celestial  ray. 
Sun  of  Righteousness!  arising. 

Bring  the  bright,  the  glorious  day 
Send  the  gospel 

To  the  earth's  remotest  bound. 

2  Kingdoms  wide  that  sit  in  darkness- 
Grant  them.  Lord !  the  glorious  light  ; 

And,  from  eastern  coast  to  western, 
.May  the  morning  chase  the  night ; 

And  redemption. 
Freely  purchased,  win  the  day. 

3  Fly  abroad,  thou  mighty  gospel ! 
Win  and  conquer,  never  cease  ; 

May  thy  lasting,  wide  dominions 
Multiply  and  still  increase; 

Sway  thy  scepter. 
Saviour  I  all  the  world  aronnd. 


Among  the  other  pet  names  which  the 
grateful  and  enthusiastic  people  applied  to 
Rev.  William  Williams  was  "  the  Watts  of 
Wales."  This  fine  missionary  hymn,  so  famil- 
iar in  a  thousand  Monthly  Concerts,  was 
published  in  his  Gloria  in  Excelsis,  1772. 


I070 


Home  Missions. 


8s,  7s,  4s. 


Saints  of  God  !  the  dawn  is  brightening, 

Token  of  our  coming  Lord  ; 
O'er  the  earth  the  field  is  whitening  ; 

Louder  rings  the  Master's  word — 
"  Pray  for  reapers 

In  the  harvest  of  the  Lord." 

2  Now,  O  Lord  !  fulfill  thy  pleasure, 
Breathe  upon  thy  chosen  band, 

And,  with  pentecostal  measure, 
Send  forth  reapers  o'er  our  land — 

Faithful  reapers, 
Gathering  sheaves  for  thy  right  hand. 

3  Broad  the  shadow  of  our  nation, 
Eager  millions  hither  roam; 

Lo  !  they  wait  for  thy  salvation ; 
Come,  Lord  Jesus  [  quickly  come! 

By  thy  Spirit, 
Bring  thy  ransomed  people  home. 

4  Soon  shall  end  the  time  of  weeping, 
Soon  the  reaping  time  will  come — 

Heaven  and  earth  together  keeping 
God's  eternal  Harvest  Home  : 

Saints  and  angels  ! 
Shout  the  world's  great  Harvest  Home. 

Some  years  ago  one  of  the  religious  week- 
lies of  New  York  offered  a  generous  sum  of 
money  for  the  best  home  missionary  hymn  ; 
the  competition  appears  to  have  been  vigor- 
ous, and  quite  a  number  of  spirited  lyrics 
were  gained  for  the  churches.  This  one  took 
the  prize  :  but  the  author  desired  to  remain 
in  the  secrecy  of  her  own  reserve.  It  came  a 
while  afterwards  to  the  public  that  she  re- 
sided in  Richmond,  and  was  an  estimable 
Christian  whose  name  was  Mrs.  Mary  Max- 
well. She  was  born  in  Norfolk,  Va.,  the 
daughter  of  a  Scotch  merchant,  Mr.  Robert 
Robertson,  an  elder  in  the  Presbyterian 
Church.  In  1839  she  was  married  to  Pres- 
ident William  Maxwell  of  Hampden-Sidney 
College  ;  his  death  left  her  a  widow  in  1857. 
During  the  war  she  removed  to  Danville, 
and  at  its  close  she  returned  to  Richmond, 
where  at  the  latest  accounts  she  still  re- 
sides. 

I  07  I  The  gospel  herald.  8s,  7s,  4s. 

On  the  mountain's  top  appearing, 

Lo  !  the  sacred  herald  stands. 
Welcome  news  to  Zion  bearing — 
Zion  long  in  hostile  lands  : 

Mourning  captive  ! 
God  himself  shall  loose  thy  bands. 

2  Has  thy  night  been  long  and  mournful  ? 

Have  thy  friends  unfaithful  proved  ? 
Have  thy  foes  been  proud  and  scornful  ? 

By  thy  sighs  and  tears  unmoved  ? 
Cease  thy  mourning ; 

Zion  still  is  well  beloved. 


MISSIONS   AND  GROWTH. 


451 


3  God,  thy  God,  will  now  restore  thee  ; 

He  himself  appears  thy  Friend  ; 
All  thy  foes  shall  flee  before  thee  ; 
Here  their  boasts  and  triumphs  end  : 
Great  deliverance 
Zion's  King  will  surely  send. 

Rev.  Thomas  Kelly  has  given  us  this  in  his 
Collection  of  Psalms  and  Hymns  issued  in 
Dublin,  1802.  It  is  founded  upon  Isaiah 
52:7,  the  grand  challenge  of  the  prophet 
concerning  the  glory  of  Zion  which  seems 
such  a  favorite  with  the  poets. 

1 072  "  Hallelujah  !  "  8s,  7s,  4s. 

Hallelujah  !  best  and  sweetest 

Of  the  hymns  of  praise  above ; 
Hallelujah !  thou  repeatest. 

Angel  Host,  these  notes  of  love  ; 
This  ye  utter. 

While  your  golden  harps  ye  move. 

2  Hallelujah  !  Church  Victorious, 
Join  the  concert  of  the  sky; 

Hallelujah  !  bright  and  glorious. 
Lift,  ye  Saints,  this  strain  on  high  ; 

We,  poor  exiles, 
Join  not  yet  your  melody. 

3  Hallelujah!  strains  of  gladness 

.    Suit  not  souls  with  anguish  torn  ; 
Hallelujah!  sounds  of  sadness 

Best  become  the  heart  forlorn  ; 
Our  offences 

We  with  bitter  tears  must  mourn. 

4  But  our  earnest  supplication. 
Holy  God,  we  raise  to  thee : 

Visit  uswith  thy  salvation. 
Make  us  all  thy  joys  to  see. 

Hallelujah ! 
Ours  at  length  this  strain  shall  be. 

The  ancient  Latin  poem,  "  Alleluia,  dulce 
carmen"  is  said  to  have  been  written  in  the 
eleventh  century,  but  its  author  is  not  known. 
The  translation  now  before  us  was  made  by 
Rev.  John  Chandler,  and  printed  in  his  Hymns 
of  the  Primitive  Church,  1837. 

1073  "Revive  thy  work."  S.  M. 

O  Lord,  thy  work  revive, 

In  Zion's  gloomy  hour. 
And  make  her  dying  graces  live 

By  thy  restoring  power. 

2  Awake  thy  chosen  few 

To  fervent,  earnest  prayer ; 
Again  may  they  their  vows  renew, 
Thy  blessed  presence  share. 

3  Thy  Spirit  then  will  speak 
Through  lips  of  feeble  clay, 

And  hearts  of  adamant  will  break, 
And  rebels  will  obey. 

•4  Lord^  lend  thy  gracious  ear ; 

Oh,  listen  to  our  cry : 
Oh,  come  and  bring  salvation  here: 
Our  hopes  on  thee  rely. 

Mrs.  Phoebe  H.  Brown,  the  author  of  this 
familiar  hymn,  written  in  1819,  accepted  cer- 
tain alterations  in  its  structure  made  by  an- 
other hand,  more  skilled  in  rhythmical  ar- 
rangement, and  signified  that  this  form,  as  it 


was  finally  prepared  for  Dr.  Elias  Nason's 
Congregational  Hymn-Book,  should  hence- 
forward be  retained  as  her  choice,  1857.  She 
told  one  of  her  correspondents  that,  while  liv- 
ing at  East  Windsor,  she  had  been  in  the 
habit  of  keeping  "  a  kind  of  diary  ;"  this  she 
continued  at  Ellington.  She  inserted  in  this 
book  "  several  scraps  of  poetry,"  which  were 
published  by  her  brother,  Nathan  Whiting,  in 
the  Religious  Intelligencer,  at  New  Haven. 
She  had  four  little  children  ;  life  was  hard  and 
full  of  cares  at  the  time  ;  her  hymns  grew  out 
of  her  desire  for  communion  with  God. 


1 074  Declension. 

Oh,  for  the  happy  hour 
When  God  will  hear  our  cr>-, 

.\nd  send,  with  a  reviving  power, 
His  Spirit  from  on  high  ! 

2  While  many  crowd  thy  house. 
How  few,  around  thy  board. 

Meet  to  recount  their  solemn  vows 
And  bless  thee  as  their  Lord  ! 

3  Thou,  thou  alone  canst  give 
Thy  gospel  sure  success ; 

Canst  bid  the  dying  sinner  live 
Anew  in  holiness. 

4  Come,  then,  with  power  divine, 
Spirit  of  life  and  love  ! 

Then  shall  this  people  all  be  thine. 
This  church  like  that  above. 


S.  M. 


REV.   GEORGE   W.   BETHUNE,   D.    D. 

Rev.  George  Washington  Bethune,  D.  D., 
the  author  of  this  hymn,  was  born  in  New 
York  City,  March  18,  1805.  His  grandmother 
was  the  sainted  Isabella  Graham,  and  his 
father  was  Divie  Bethune.  a  Scotch  merchant 
living  in  New  York.  This  child  of  many 
prayers  was  graduated  from  Dickinson  Col- 
lege, 1823,  and  at  once  studied  for  the  minis- 


452 


THE  CHURCH   OF  GOD. 


try  in  Princeton  Theological  Seminary.  He 
was  married  in  1825,  and  took  his  license  as 
a  minister  from  the  Second  Presbytery  of 
New  York.  He  was  settled  first  in  the  Re- 
formed Dutch  Church  of  Rhiriebeck,  N.  Y. 
Thereafter  he  had  charges  in  that  denomina- 
tion for  the  remainder  of  his  useful  and  bril- 
liant life.  He  was  most  conspicuous,  perhaps, 
in  Brooklyn,  where  the  Church  on  the  Heights 
was  organized  for  him.  He  left  that  position 
in  1859;  and  shortly  afterwards,  his  health 
being  much  broken,  he  went  across  the  sea, 
residing  in  Florence,  Italy,  where  he  died  on 
Sunday,  April  27,  1862.  In  his  English 
Hytnns  Rev.  Samuel  W.  Duffield  tells  us  at 
some  length  that  Dr.  George  Duffield,  Jr., 
copied  certain  entries  from  the  diary  of  Divie 
Bethune  in  Detroit,  and  these  were  published 
by  his  son  in  an  excellent  paper  treating  of 
Dr.  Bethune's  history.  From  these  sources,  as 
well  as  from  the  ample  and  interesting  biog- 
raphy penned  by  Dr.  Van  Nest,  all  needed  in- 
formation concerning  this  remarkable  pulpit 
orator,  hymnologist,  poet,  lecturer,  fisherman, 
wit,  author,  and  litterateur,  is  easily  to  be  ob- 
tained. This  hymn  is  said  to  have  been  struck 
off  upon  a  penciled  paper  during  the  few  mo- 
ments of  waiting  for  his  audience  to  assemble 
for  a  devotional  meeting  some  time  in  the  year 
1843.  It  contains  what  was  probably  the 
dominant  thought  of  its  author  while  those 
people  were  coming  into  their  seats :  "  Oh, 
that  God  would  revive  us  and  awaken  us ! 
How  many  crowd  the  house,  how  few  come 
to  open  confession  !  " 

Dr.  Bethune  was  consecrated  to  Christ,  and 
even  to  the  office  of  the  ministry,  from  the 
earliest  moment  of  his  life.  The  journal  of 
Divie  Bethune  contains  this  record  at  the  date 
of  his  birth :  "  Oh,  remember  my  request  this 
morning  1  Receive  my  dedication  of  my  son. 
Thou  knowest  what  I  have  all  along  asked  of 
God,  that  if  he  gave  us  a  son,  he  might  be 
sanctified  from  the  womb,  and  be  made  a 
faithful,  honored,  and  zealous  minister  of  the 
everlasting  Gospel.  Oh,  let  this  son  be  chosen 
of  thee  to  declare  the  unsearchable  riches  of 
Christ !"  Prayers  winged  by  such  faith  as  this 
are  scattered  through  the  entire  extent  of  this 
wonderful  father's  diary;  it  could  not  be 
otherwise  than  that  they  should  be  answered, 
every  one.  This  child  grew  up  as  a  child  of 
the  covenant,  became  a  child  of  grace,  and 
continued  a  child  of  God.  His  record  is  in 
all  the  churches.  He  was.  Tike  his  father,  a 
man  of  prayer.  One  Greek  Testament  there 
vyas,  his  companion  for  the  long  years  of  his 
life  and  ministry;  in  this  can  even  now  be 
read  that  comprehensive  little  prayer  which 


bears  his  name — it  was  entered  upon  the  fly- 
leaf :  "  Lord,  pardon  what  I  have  been,  sanc- 
tify what  I  am,  and  order  what  I  shall  be,  that 
thine  may  be  the  glory  and  mine  the  eternal 
salvation  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord." 

1 075  Revival  Implored.  8s,  ys. 

Saviour,  visit  thy  plantation  ! 

Grant  us.  Lord,  a  gracious  rain  : 
All  will  come  to  desolation 

Unless  thou  return  again. 

2  Keep  no  longer  at  a  distance, 
Shine  upon  us  from  on  high, 

Lest,  for  want  of  thine  assistance, 
Every-  plant  should  droop  and  die.  , 

3  Once,  O  Lord,  thy  garden  flourished; 
Every  part  looked  gay  and  green ; 

Then  thy  word  our  spirits  nourished  : 
Happy  seasons  we  have  seen. 

4  But  a  drought  has  since  succeeded, 
And  a  sad  decline  we  see : 

Lord,  thy  help  is  greatly  needed : 
Help  can  only  come  from  thee. 

5  Let  our  mutual  love  be  fervent : 
Make  us  prevalent  in  prayer  : 

Let  each  one  esteemed  thy  servant 
Shun  the  world's  bewitching  snare. 

6  Break  the  tempter's  fatal  power, 
Turn  the  stony  heart  to  flesh, 

And  begin  from  this  good  hour 
To  revive  thy  work  afresh. 

Rev.  John  Newton  wrote  this  for  the  Olney 
Hymns,  1779.  The  annotation  upon  it  found 
in  S.  W.  Duffield's  English  Hymns,  1888,  is 
unusually  interesting  and  altogether  original. 
He  says :  "  It  is  singular  that  no  one  has  re- 
marked the  imagery  of  this  hymn.  The  man 
who  wrote  it  was  formerly  employed  in  plant- 
ing lime  and  lemon  trees  upon  his  master's 
plantation  at  the  mouth  of  the  Sherbro  River, 
in  Africa.  When  the  slips  that  he  had  set  in 
the  ground  were  'no  hig'her  fhan  a  young 
gooseberry  bush,'  his  master  sneeringly  said 
to  him  :  '  Who  knows  but  by  the  time  these 
trees  grow  up  and  bear,  you  may  go  home  to 
England,  obtain  the  command  of  a  ship,  and 
return  to  reap  the  fruit  of  your  labors  ?  We 
see  strange  things  sometimes  happen.'  It  was 
meant,  and  understood,  as  a  contemptuous 
speech,  but  John  Newton  really  did  return,  in 
command  of  a  ship,  and  with  some  hope  of 
heaven  in  his  heart,  and  saw  these  same  trees 
grown  to  stature  and  bearing  fruit." 

1076  The  Promise.  lis,  los. 

Hail  to  the  brightness  of  Zion's  glad  morning  ! 

Joy  to  the  lands  that  in  darkness  have  lain  ! 
Hushed  be  the  accents  of  sorrow  and  mourning ; 

Zion  in  triumph  begins  her  mild  reign. 

2  Hail  to  the  brightness  of  Zion's  glad  morning, 
Long  by  the  prophets  of  Israel  foretold  : 

Hail  to  the  millions  from  bondage  returning ; 
Gentile  and  Jew  the  blest  vision  behold. 


MISSIONS  AND   GROWTH. 


453 


3  Lo  !  in  the  desert  rich  flowers  are  springing, 
Streams  ever  copious  are  gliding  along ; 

Loud  from  the  mountain-tops  echoes  are  ringing, 
Wastes  rise  in  verdure,  and  mingle  in  song. 

4  See,  from  all  lands— from  the  isles  of  the  ocean — 
Praise  to  Jehovah  ascending  on  high ; 

Fallen  are  the  engines  of  war  and  commotion, 
Shouts  of  salvation  are  rending  the  sky. 

In  Dr.  Thomas  Hastings'  Spiritual  Songs, 
1 83 1,  this  hymn  is  found;  it  was  composed 
by  him  in  1830.  It  is  always  sung  to  this 
tune  "  Wesley,"  composed  by  Dr.  Lowell 
Mason,  his  friend  and  coadjutor  for  so  many 
years.  He  entitled  it,  "  Missionary  Success." 
It  is  marvelous  to  look  back  and  see  what 
has  been  done  in  the  evangelization  of  the 
world  since  the  time  when  this  "  Spiritual 
Song  "  was  first  sung,  sixty-three  years  ago. 

1077  Home  Missions.  8s,  7s.  D. 

•     Goodly  were  thy  tents,  O  Israel, 

Spread  along  the  river's  side. 
Bright  thy  star  which  rose  prophetic. 

Herald  of  dominion  wide; 
Fairer  are  the  homes  of  freemen, 

Scattered  o'er  our  broad  domain  ; 
Brighter  is  our  rising  day-star. 

Ushering  in  a  purer  reign. 

2  Welcome  to  the  glorious  freedom 
Which  our  fathers  hither  brought ; 

Welcome  to  the  priceless  treasure 

Which  with  constant  faith  they  sought — 

See,  from  every  nation  gathering. 
Swarming  myriads  throng  our  coasts, 

Hear,  with  steady  steps  advancing. 
Ceaseless  tread  of  countless  hosts. 

3  God  of  nations  !  our  Preserver, 
Hear  our  prayers,  our  counsels  bless  ; 

Lift  o'er  all  thy  radiant  banner, 

On  these  souls  thy  love  impress  ; 
From  thy  throne  of  boundless  blessing. 

O'er  our  land  thy  Spirit  pour  ; 
In  the  grandeur  of  thnie  empire 

Reign  supreme  from  shore  to  shore  ! 

Among  the  pieces  sent  us  for  selection  in 
the  work  of  compilation  by  Rev.  Samuel  Wol- 
cott,  D.  D.,  was  found  this  one  with  many 
others  fitted  for  use  in  both  foreign  and  home 
missionary  service.  His  heart  in  his  later  life 
had  no  divided  love  for  these  two  great 
causes ;  for  he  cherished  them  alike,  as  a 
mother  cares  for  her  twin  children  with  an 
unalterable  and  indiscriminate  affection.  In 
early  life  he  left  America  for  Syria,  forsaking 
the  "  homes  of  freemen,"  of  which  he  sang, 
for  a  long  and  painful  career  of  service  among 
the  Arabs  and  the  Druses  of  Lebanon. 
When  health  failed  he  came  home  to  preach 
to  his  countrymen  with  equal  ardor,  and 
gave  his  best  force  to  a  Secretaryship  in  the 
Society  for  prosecuting  Home  Missions  at 
the  West.  This  hymn  was  given  to  the  press 
in  the  spring  of  1881,  while  he  was  engaged 
in  the  special  service  of  establishing  churches 
in  Ohio  as  a  State  Superintendent.      In  his 


later  life  he  wrote  many  hymns,  and  he  has 
left  on  record  an  account  of  how  he  began  to 
do  so.  He  was  fifty-six  years  old,  and  had 
never  put  two  rhymes  together,  and  had 
taken  it  for  granted  th^t  he  was  as  incompe- 
tent to  write  a  hymn,  or  even  a  stanza,  as  to 
work  a  miracle.  "  However,"  he  says,  "  I 
resolved  that  I  would  try  to  write  a  hymn  o.'' 
five  stanzas,  and  proceeded  to  plan  it,  pre- 
cisely as  I  would  plan  a  sermon.  I  said.  The 
first  stanza  shall  be  a  recognition  of  God 
the  Father ;  the  second  a  recognition  of 
Christ  the  Redeemer;  the  third  a  prayer  to 
God  the  Father;  the  fourth  a  prayer  to 
Christ  the  Redeemer;  the  fifth  shall  blend 
the  two  in  one  address.  A  more  perfect  rec- 
ipe for  wooden  stanzas  it  would  be  difficult 
to  frame."  The  result  was  the  hymn  begin- 
ning "  Father,  I  own  thy  voice,"  and  the 
author  was  much  surprised  to  find  he  had 
written  what  could  actually  be  sung.  Many 
of  his  hymns  have  become  favorites  through- 
out the  country. 
I078  "  IVestward."  8s,  7s. 

Hark!  the  sound  of  angel-voices 

Over  Bethlehem's  star-lit  plain ; 
Hark  !  the  heavenly  host  rejoices, 

Jesus  comes  on  earth  to  reign. 
See  celestial  radiance  beaming. 

Lighting  up  the  midnight  sky  ; 
'T  is  the  promised  day-star  gleaming, 

'T  is  the  day-spring  from  on  high. 

2  Westward,  all  along  the  ages, 

Trace  its  pathway  clear  and  bright ; 
Star  of  hope  to  Eastern  sages. 

Radiant  now  with  gospel  light. 
Angels  from  the  realms  of  glor>-, 

Peace  on  earth  delight  to  sing  ; 
Christian,  tell  the  wondrous  story. 

Go  proclaim  the  Saviour  King! 

This  very  fine  home  missionary  piece  of 
poetry  found  its  way  into  Spiritual  Songs  for 
Church  and  Choir,  in  1878.  Where  it  was 
obtained  then  it  is  impossible  now  to  say ; 
it  appeared  there  as  anonymous,  and  proba- 
bly it  came  under  the  compiler's  notice  as  a 
fugitive  contribution  in  some  periodical.  It 
consisted  of  four  double  stanzas,  and  was 
divided  into  somewhat  more  available  pro- 
portions, doing  service  as  two  hymns.  The 
next  year  it  was  copied  into  the  small  man- 
ual entitled  Missioti  Songs,  compiled  for  use 
at  the  great  meetings  of  the  American  Board. 
It  is  within  a  few  months  only  that  we  have 
learned  that  it  was  composed  by  Mrs.  Re- 
becca Phoenix  Coe.  the  honored  wife  of  Rev. 
David  B.  Coe,  D.  D.,  Secretary  of  the  Home 
Missionary  Society.  It  is  the  common  expo- 
sure of  a  hymn-maker  in  our  times  that  she 
has  amiably  to  submit  to  the  question  which 
affectionate  curiosity  raises,  and  suffer  herself 
to  be  gazetted  with  whatever  details  of  per- 


454 


THE   CHURCH  OF  GOD. 


sonal  history  can  be  secured.  Mrs.  Coe  is  re- 
siding at  present  in  Bloomfield,  N.  J.;  she 
was  born  in  New  York  city,  however,  March 
i8,  1818.  It  ought  to  give  her  pleasure  to 
know  that  the  singing  world  is  grateful,  but 
she  does  not  need  the  tardy  crediting  of  this 
hymn  to  her  to  render  her  beloved  by  all  who 
know  her. 

1079  The  Heralds  of  the  Gospel.  8s,  7s.  D. 

Onward,  onward,  men  of  heaven! 

Bear  the  gospel's  banner  high ; 
Rest  not  till  its  light  is  given, 

Star  of  every  pagan  sky  : 
Send  it  where  the  pilgrim  stranger 

Faints  beneath  the  torrid  ray ; 
Bid  the  red-browed  forest-ranger 

Hail  it,  ere  he  fades  away. 

2  Rude  in  speech,  or  grim  in  feature. 

Dark  in  spirit,  though  they  be, 
Show  that  light  to  every  creature — 

Prince  or  vassal,  bond  or  free : 
Lo !  they  haste  to  every  nation  : 

Host  on  host  the  ranks  supply  : 
Onward  !  Christ  is  your  salvation, 

And  your  death  is  victory-. 

Still  another  of  Mrs.  Lydia  Huntley  Sig- 
ourney's  hymns.  There  is  a  real  ring  of 
rhythm  and  feeling  in  this  piece,  more  than 
usual  in  an  authoress  who.se  gifts  have  been 
supposed  to  be  more  in  the  direction  of  grace 
and  beauty  than  in  that  of  eagerness  and 
strength.  There  are  three  of  these  double 
verses  in  her  piece  as  she  prepared  it  for 
singing.  She  wrote  it  in  1833,  and  the  text 
affixed  to  it  is  in  Mark  16  :  15  :  "  Go  ye  into 
all  the  world,  and  preach  the  gospel  to  every 
creature." 


ro8o 


The  last  song. 


L.  M. 


Soon  may  the  last  glad  song  arise 
Through  all  the  millions  of  the  skies — 
That  song  of  triumph  which  records 
That  all  the  earth  is  now  the  Lord's ! 

2  Let  thrones  and  powers  and  kingdoms  be 
Obedient,  mighty  God,  to  thee! 

And,  over  land  and  stream  and  main, 
Wave  thou  the  scepter  of  thy  reign  ! 

3  Oh,  let  that  glorious  anthem  swell. 
Let  host  to  host  the  triumph  tell, 
That  not  one  rebel  heart  remains. 
But  over  all  the  Saviour  reigns ! 

This  hymn  is  attributed  to  Mrs.  Yokes,  but 
its  authorship  has  not  been  identified  with 
absolute  certainty.  It  is  an  anticipation  of 
Christ's  universal  reign  upon  the  earth,  and  a 
prayer  for  its  speedy  realization ;  but  it  also 
suggests  the  question  which  Paul  puts  in  his 
Epistle  to  the  Romans :  "  How  then  shall 
they  call  on  him  in  whom  they  have  not  be- 
lieved ?  and  how  shall  they  believe  in  him  of 
whom  they  have  not  heard  }  and  how  shall 
they  hear  without  a  preacher.?  And  how 
shall  they  preach,  except  they  be  sent }  " 

It  is  impossible   to   look    at   the  heathen 


world  without  feeling  the  force  ol  Paul's  rea- 
soning in  this  passage.  Such  an  event  as  the 
recent  massacre  by  King  Theebau  of  Bur- 
mah,  the  atrocities  in  countries  under  even 
Mohammedan  rule,  and  the  barbarous  rites 
that  take  place  from  time  to  time  on  the  west 
coast  of  Africa,  should  provoke  the  Christian 
church  to  greater  efforts  in  the  mission  field. 
Paul's  question.  "  How  shall  they  hear  with- 
out a  preacher .''"  is  uttered  eighteen  hundred 
years  after  by  a  poor  Hindoo  woman  on  the 
banks  of  the  Ganges.  She  had  drowned  her 
children  in  the  sacred  river  before  her  con- 
version to  Christianity,  and,  when  she  told 
the  missionary'  of  it,  she  burst  into  tears,  and 
cried  :  "  Why  did  you  not  come  before  .'  If 
you  had  come  before,  I  would  not  have  lost 
my  children."  How  should  that  woman's 
sorrow  touch  the  heart  of  every  Christian  pa- 
rent !  Show  how  this  same  question  "  How 
shall  they  hear  ?"  finding  entrance  into  hearts 
that  loved  their  Saviour,  sent  out  men  like 
Eliot,  Brainerd,  -Judson,  Carey,  Martyn,  and 
Morrison,  whose  lives  are  full  of  touching  in- 
stances of  their  devotion  to  God's  work  in 
this  field.  They  felt  that  they  were  God's 
soldiers,  and  they  would  not  be  faithless  in 
the  battle.  A  young  English  officer  once 
asked  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  if  he  thought 
there  was  any  need  of  preaching  the  gospel 
to  the  Hindoos.  "  Look  to  your  marching 
orders,  sir,"  said  the  Duke.  Then  opening  a 
New  Testament,  he  read  :  "  '  Go  ye  into  all 
the  world,  and  preach  the  gospel  to  every 
creature  ! '  These  are  your  marching  orders, 
sir." 

1 08  I  Missionary  Convocation.  L.  ^L 

Assembled  at  thy  great  command, 
Before  thy  face,  dread  King,  we  stand  : 
The  voice  that  marshaled  every  star 
Has  called  thy  people  from  afar. 

2  We  meet,  through  distant  lands  to  spread 
The  truth  for  which  the  martyrs  bled  ; 
Along  the  line,  to  either  pole, 

The  thunder  of  thy  praise  to  roll. 

3  Our  prayers  assist,  accept  our  praise. 
Our  hopes  revive,  our  courage  raise  ; 
Our  counsels  aid,  to  each  impart 

The  single  eye,  the  faithful  heart. 

4  Forth  with  thy  chosen  heralds  come, 
Recall  the  wandering  spirits  home ; 
From  Zion's  mount  send  forth  the  sound, 
To  spread  the  spacious  earth  around. 

Rev.  William  Bengo  CoUyer,  D.  D.,  was 
born  at  Blackheath,  England,  April  14,  1782, 
and  educated  at  Homerton  College,  where  in 
early  life  he  began  his  studies  for  the  minis- 
try. At  the  age  of  twenty-two  he  was  or- 
dained pastor  of  a  little  church  at  Peckham, 
which   numbered    only  ten    communicants; 


MISSIONS   AND   GROWTH. 


455 


but  his  labors  were  blessed,  and  he  became 
celebrated  among  evangelical  preachers  for 
his  eloquence,  courtesy,  and  ability.  In  1817 
a  new  chapel  was  opened  for  him  in  the  town, 
and  he  remained  there  throughout  his  long 
pastorate  of  fifty-two  years,  dying  at  Peckham, 
January  8,  1854.  Dr.  Collyer  was  an  author 
of  much  versatility,  having  written  a  series  of 
seven  volumes  on  Divine  Revelation,  as  well 
as  a  great  number  of  hymns,  and  poems  of 
nature  or  of  sentiment.  Many  of  his  pieces 
were  composed  to  be  sung  after  sermons 
which  he  had  preached,  and  were  published 
in  different  collections  and  in  various  maga- 
zines. The  one  quoted  here  was  first  printed 
in  181 2,  in  his  Hymns,  Partly  Collected  and 
Partly  Original,  and  is  extensively  used  in 
America  for  missionary  gatherings. 

I  082  Christ's  coming.  L.  M. 

Jesus  !  thy  church,  with  longing  eyes, 
For  thine  expected  coming  waits  ; 

When  will  the  promised  light  arise, 
And  glory  beam  from  Zion's  gates  ? 

2  Ev'n  now,  when  tempests  round  us  fall. 
And  wintry  clouds  o'ercast  the  sky, 

Thy  words  with  pleasure  we  recall, 
And  deem  that  our  redemption  's  nigh. 

3  Oh,  come  and  reign  o'er  everj-  land ; 
Let  Satan  from  his  throne  be  hurled  ; 

All  nations  bow  to  thy  command. 
And  grace  revive  a  dying  world. 

4  Teach  us,  in  watchfulness  and  prayer, 
To  wait  for  the  appointed  hour  ; 

And  fit  us  by  thy  grace  to  share 
The  triumphs  oi^thy  conquering  power. 

This  was  written  as  a  "  Second  Advent " 
hymn  by  Rev.  William  Hiley  Bathurst,  and 
was  so  entitled.  He  published  it  in  his 
Psalms  and  Hyjnns,  1831.  In  sentiment  it 
resembles  Bishop  Heber's  great  hymn.  It 
connects  the  church's  triumph,  the  overthrow 
of  Satan,  the  evangelization  of  the  nations, 
and  the  final  glory  of  Zion,  with  the  personal 
coming  of  Christ,  that  blessed  day  when  "  the 
Lamb  for  sinners  slain.  Redeemer,  King, 
Creator,  in  bliss  returns  to  reign." 

1083  "  Ascend  thy  throne."  L.  M. 

Ascend  thy  throne,  almighty  King, 
And  spread  thy  glories  all  abroad  ; 

Let  thine  own  arm  salvation  bring, 
And  be  thou  known  the  gracious  God. 

2  Let  millions  bow  before  thy  seat, 
Let  humble  mourners  seek  thy  face, 

Bring  daring  rebels  to  thy  feet, 
Subdued  by  thy  victorious  grace. 

3  Oh,  let  the  kingdoms  of  the  world 
Become  the  kingdoms  of  the  Lord  ! 

Let  saints  and  angels  praise  thy  name, 
Be  thou  through  heaven  and  earth  adored. 

This  poem  by  Rev.  Benjamin  Beddome 
was    first    published    in    Rippon's     Baptist 


Selection,  1787,  and  has  attained  a  wide 
popularity  in  America.  It  was  written 
for  use  in  missionary  meetings  and  is  an 
earnest  petition  that  Christ  may  be  ac- 
knowledged by  all  the  nations  as  their 
king.  In  hastening  that  consummation  even 
the  least  of  his  servants  may  take  part,  for 
we  are  told  that  he  will  bless  the  smallest 
gift  if  it  is  made  in  his  name.  In  the  Shaw- 
mut  Branch  Sunday-school  of  Boston  a  suc- 
cessful attempt  was  recently  made  to  interest 
the  children  in  the  systematic  giving  of  their 
own  money.  An  envelope  was  handed  to 
each  scholar,  on  the  outside  of  which  was 
printed  a  form  with  space  for  the  scholar's 
name,  the  amount  of  money  contributed,  and 
a  statement  of  how  the  money  was  earned  ; 
these  envelopes  were  to  be  handed  in  at  the 
Sunday-evening  collections.  The  first  Sun- 
day after  the  experiment  was  tried,  more  than 
thirty  envelopes  were  returned,  containing 
amounts  varying  from  two  cents  to  a  dollar ; 
and  among  the  methods  by  which  the  money 
was  earned,  as  recorded  on  the  envelopes, 
were  "  Doing  errands,"  "  Carrying  coal,". 
"  Walking  to  my  work  and  saving  car-fares." 


I084 


Psalm  72. 


L.  M. 


Jesus  shall  reign  where'er  the  sun 
Does  his  successive  journeys  run  ; 
His  kingdom  stretch  from  shore  to  shore, 
Till  moons  shall  wax  and  wane  no  more. 

2  For  him  shall  endless  prayer  be  made 
And  endless  praises  crown  his  head  ; 
His  name,  like  sweet  perfume,  shall  rise 
With  every  morning  sacrifice. 

3  People  and  realms  of  every  tongue 
Dwell  on  his  love,  with  sweetest  song  ; 
And  infant  voices  shall  proclaim 
Their  early  blessings  on  his  name. 

4  Blessings  abound  where'er  he  reigns : 
The  prisoner  leaps  to  lose  his  chains; 
The  weary  find  eternal  rest, 

And  all  the  sons  of  want  are  blest. 

5  Let  every  creature  rise  and  bring 
Peculiar  honors  to  our  King; 
Angels  descend  with  sones  again, 
And  earth  repeat  the  loud  Amen  ! 

Dr.  Watts  found  that  the  translations  of 
the  Psalms  made  by  the  devout  Francis 
Rous  were  no  more  pleasing  to  his  taste 
than  the  hymns  he  had  in  some  measure 
supplanted.  They  were  rude  in  poetic  con- 
struction and  altogether  Judaic  in  their  color- 
ing. He  felt  confident  that  he  could  pre- 
serve all  the  fervor  and  fire  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment Psalms,  and  yet  present  them  in  the 
sunshine  of  the  New  Testament  dispensation 
for  Christians  to  sing.  His  own  words  on 
this  point  are  significant :  "  I  have  expressed 
as  I  may  suppose  David  would  have  done, 


456 

had  he  lived  in  the  days  of  Christianity.  I 
have  entirely  omitted  some  whole  Psalms  and 
large  pieces  of  many  others,  and  have  chosen 
out  of  them  such  parts  only  as  might  easily 
and  naturally  be  accommodated  to  the  various 
occasions  of  the  Christian  life,  or  at  least 
might  afford  us  some  beautiful  allusions  to 
Christian  affairs.  These  I  have  copied  and  ex- 
plained in  the  general  style  of  the  Gospel.  I 
have  chosen  rather  to  imitate  than  to  trans- 
late, and  thus  to  compose  a  psalm-book  for 
Christians  after  the  manner  of  the  Jewish 
Psalter." 

No  one  can  deny  that  in  this  undertaking 
he  achieved  a  wonderful  success.  Especially 
is  this  version  one  of  the  grandest  lyrics 
within  the  compass  of  Christian  literature.  It 
was  the  one  chosen  to  be  sung  in  1862,  at  the 
great  mission  gathering  when  the  five  thou- 
sand converts  from  Samoa,  1  onga,  and  Fiji 
surrendered  heathenism  and  came  to  Christ. 
The  title  of  the  Hymn  is  "  Christ's  kingdom 
among  the  Gentiles,"  and  it  consists  of  eight 
stanzas;  the  Second  Part,  L.  M.,  of  Psalm  72. 

1085  Conversion  of  the  World.  L.  M. 

Sovereign  of  worlds !  display  thy  power ; 
Be  this  thy  Zion's  favored  hour ; 
Bid  the  bright  morning  Star  arise, 
And  point  the  nations  to  the  skies. 

2  Set  up  thy  throne  where  Satan  reigns — 
On  Afric's  shore,  on  India's  plains, 

On  wilds  and  continents  unknown— 
And  make  the  nations  all  thine  own. 

3  Speak,  and  the  world  shall  hear  thy  voice. 
Speak  !  and  the  desert  shall  rejoice; 
Scatter  the  gloom  of  heathen  night, 

And  bid  all  nations  hail  the  light. 

One  of  the  long-standing  perplexities  of  the 
hymnologist  has  lately  been  relieved.  This 
hymn  is  at  last,  by  general  consent,  credited 
to  a  useful  minister  in  the  Baptist  denomina- 
tion. Rev.  Bourne  Hall  Draper,  LL.  B.  He 
was  born  at  Cumner,  near  Oxford,  1775,  was 
settled  at  Southampton,  England,  where  he 
died  October,  1843.  It  was  evidently  pre- 
pared for  some  parting  occasion,  when  mis- 
sionaries were  setting  out  for  the  distant 
fields.  Out  of  this  poem  two  of  our  modern 
hymns  have  been  compiled  ;  this  one,  and  the 
other,  equally  familiar,  commencing,  "  Ye 
Christian  heralds,  go,  proclaim."  Both  of 
these  have  for  long  years  been  credited  to  a 
somewhat  mythical  "  Mrs.  Voke,"  of  whom 
it  has  always  been  regretted  there  was  no 
Christian  name,  no  social  biography,  no  his- 
torical detail,  which  could  be  trusted  as  true. 
The  two  little  triads  of  verses  first  came  to 
notice  in  our  country  in  an  old  collection 
called  Hymns  for  the  Use  of  Chrtstians,^wh- 
lished  in   Portland,   Me.,  1805.     To  one  of 


THE  CHURCH   OF   GOD. 


these  a  running  title  is  attached  :  "  On  the 
Departure  of  the  Missionaries :  By  a  Bristol 
Student."  Subsequently  the  name  of  Mrs. 
Voke  somehow  found  a  place,  and  it  has  since 
clung  with  great  tenacity. 


1086  "  O  light  of  Zion." 

Though  now  the  nations  sit  beneath 
The  darkness  of  o'erspreading  death, 
God  will  arise,  with  light  divine 
On  Zion's  holy  towers  to  shine. 

2  That  light  shall  shine  on  distant  lands. 
And  wandering  tribes,  in  joyful  bands. 
Shall  come  thy  glor>-,  Lord,  to  see, 
And  in  thy  courts  to  worship  thee. 

3  O  light  of  Zion,  now  arise  I 

Let  the  glad  morning  Jaless  our  eyes ! 
Ye  nations,  catch  the  kindling  ray, 
And  hail  the  splendor  of  the  day. 


L.  M. 


LEONARD   BACON,    D.    D. 

This  excellent  missionary  hymn  is  now 
credited  fairly  to  the  Rev.  Leonard  Bacon, 
D.  D.  But  the  tale  of  its  metamorphoses  is 
unique.  In  the  early  part  of  the  present  cen- 
tury was  published  a  Selection  by  Dobell.  In 
that  there  was  a  poetical  piece  by  Miss  Sarah 
Slinn.  Some  generations  subsequent  to  this 
Dr.  Bacon  prepared  a  tract  for  the  Society  of 
Inquiry  in  Andover,  in  the  course  of  which 
he  quoted  some  parts  of  Miss  Slinn 's  produc- 
tion. These  he  altered  and  improved,  going  so 
far  as  to  write  extensive  additions  to  what  he 
borrowed.  By  and  by  the  five  stanzas  were 
reduced  to  three  ;  Nettleton  put  the  poem  into 


MISSIONS  AND   GROWTH. 


457 


his  Village  Hymns.  Then,  after  some  more 
years  and  changes,  it  was  copied  into  Church 
Psalmody,  in  1831.  Finally  Ur.  Bacon  took 
hold  of  it  once  more,  and  gave  it  such  a  revis- 
ion as  that  he  "  left  no  more  of  Slinn  than  the 
faintest  touch  in  the  third  and  last  lines  ;" 
since  which  it  has  borne  his  name. 

Dr.  Bacon  was  born  in  Detroit,  Mich.,  Feb- 
ruary 19,  1802.  Graduated  at  Yale  College 
in  1820,  and  at  Andover  Seminary  in  due 
course,  he  was  installed  almost  at  once  as  the 
pastor  of  the  First  (Congregational)  Church  in 
New  Haven,  Conn.  He  continued  in  that 
office  fifty-seven  years.  But  in  1866  he  was 
relieved  of  the  main  burden  of  his  work  and 
became  an  instructor  and  lecturer  in  Yale 
Theological  School,  holding  his  position  as 
pastor  eineritus  until  his  death,  December  24, 
1881. 

I087 


Zion's  Glory.  L.  M. 

ZiON  !  awake,  thy  strength  renew  ; 
Put  on  thy  robes  of  beauteous  hue  ; 
And  let  the  admiring  world  behold 
The  King's  fair  daughter  clothed  in  gold. 

2  Church  of  our  God  !  arise  and  shine. 
Bright  with  the  beams  of  truth  divine  ; 
Then  shall  thy  radiance  stream  afar, 
Wide  as  the  heathen  nations  are. 

3  Gentiles  and  kings  thy  light  shall  view, 
And  shall  admire  and  love  thee  too ; 
They  come,  like  clouds  across  the  sky. 
As  doves  that  to  their  windows  fly. 

This  is  one  of  the  most  widely  known 
hymns  by  William  Shrubsole ;  it  appeared 
first  in  the  Evangelical  Magazine,  1 796,  and 
has  since  been  published  in  many  collections. 
It  was  entitled  "  The  Glory  of  the  Church," 
and  is  a  paraphrase  of  that  portion  of  the 
Forty-fifth  Psalm  in  which  the  Church  is 
represented  as  a  royal  bride  about  to  be 
brought  to  her  husband. 

When  the  terrible  days  of  panic  were  over 
the  American  nation  in  1857,  crippling  every 
one  of  our  great  missionary  societies,  so  that 
the  cry  of  retrenchment  was  borne  passion- 
ately across  to  the  foreign  fields  of  effort, 
workers  were  discharged  and  missions  were 
closed.  Report  of  the  embarrassments  over 
here  came  in  due  course  to  a  small  band  of 
Nestorian  Christians  in  Persia.  They  in- 
stantly summoned  an  assembly  to  consider 
how  they  might  act  so  as  to  bestow  help  the 
most  quickly  and  with  most  force.  The 
meeting  was  called  to  order  by  an  aged  1088 
believer,  who  began  the  conference  by  a  dis- 
tinct allusion  to  the  costliness  of  their  wed- 
ding ceremonies  in  those  Oriental  lands.  He 
insisted  that  young  people  might  be  married 
in  plainer  costume.  "  Now  here,"  he  con- 
tinued, "  is  the  Church,  the  Bride  of  our  Lord 


Jesus  Christ,  and  she  is  compelled  to  go  un- 
provided for  to  her  Master's  palace  !  Cannot 
we  join  hands  to-day  to  give  her  a  fair 
outfit?  "  The  figure  seemed  at  once  to  arrest 
the  imagination  of  those  simple-hearted  and 
loving  Christians,  and  they  took  it  up.  One 
arose,  saying :  "  She  ought  at  least  to  have  a 
ring,  and  I  am  ready  to  offer  the  price  of  one 
now,  just  such  as  my  wife  received  when  she 
was  wedded  tj  me."  Another  added  :  "  She 
needs  a  vail  quite  as  much,  and  I  will  see  that 
the  Lamb's  Bride  does  not  set  out  on  her  jour- 
ney to  her  husband's  house  without  it."  An- 
other sprang  up  with  the  exclamation  :  "  She 
can  never  go  on  foot  over  the  mountains  ;  you 
may  look  to  me  for  a  horse  she  can  ride." 
Still  another  caught  the  symbol  in  his  grave, 
sweet  way :  "  How  beautiful  are  thy  feet,  O 
Prince's  Daughter!  If  she  rides  she  will 
have  to  wear  a  richer  pair  of  shoes ;  perhaps 
I  might  be  permitted  to  clothe  her  feet."  By 
this  time  their  invention  was  put  sorely  to 
task.  One  more  spoke  out  somewhat  awk- 
wardly :  "  W^edding  guns  are  fired  for  joy  ;  I 
will  give  two  cannon,  and  will  supply  ammu- 
nition." Then  the  women,  who  knew  more 
of  marriage  necessities,  began  to  whisper  to- 
gether. A  maiden  stood  up  modestly  and 
said  :  "  Now  for  her  ornaments  !  I  have 
some  of  my  own  I  can  spare."  An  impulse 
of  affectionate  generosity  moved  every  heart. 
One  old  man  said  he  had  nothing  but  a  mat ; 
but  "  perhaps  the  Queen  would  deign  to  put 
her  feet  on  it  when  she  should  alight."  Then 
said  the  leader :  "*What  is  she  to  eat  on  the 
way }  "  One  of  the  landholders  answered  : 
"  You  may  look  to  me  fo-  fifteen  outside  rows 
of  my  vineyard  next  the  sun."  During  this 
excited  colloquy  there  had  been  sitting  in  the 
assembly  no  less  a  personage  than  Mar  Yo- 
hannan,  their  ruler.  The  aged  leader  in  the 
chair  shrewdly  asked  the  question  :  "  She  is  a 
King's  daughter  and  a  Prince's  bride ;  who 
is  to  give  her  a  crown .'"  And  then  the  royal 
guest  took  the  hint  and  held  up  his  hand. 

So  the  churches  in  America  were  thrilled 

with  the  news  that  the  Nestorians  were  going 

to  take  care  of  themselves.  iiVhen  the  heart 

» is  all  right  and  loving,  what  is  there  it  will  not 

f  do  for  the  Bride,  which  is  the  Lamb'"  wife,  on 

her  way  to  her  marriage  .'' 


Life's  Sunset. 


C.  M.  D. 


Behold  the  western  evening  light ! 

It  melts  in  deepening  gloom  : 
So  calmly  Christians  suik  away, 

Descending  to  the  tomb. 
The  winds  breathe  low,  the  withering  leaf 

Scarce  whispers  from  the  tree  : 
So  gently  flows  the  parting  breath 

When  good  men  cease  to  be. 


458 


THE   christian's   DEATH. 


2  How  beautiful  on  all  the  hills 
The  crimson  light  is  shed  ! 

'T  is  like  the  peace  the  Christian  gives 

To  mourners  round  his  bed. 
How  mildly  on  the  wandering  cloud 

The  sunset  beam  is  cast ! 
'T  is  like  the  memor>-  left  behind 

When  loved  ones  breathe  their  last. 

3  And  now  above  the  dews  of  night 
The  rising  star  appears : 

So  Taith  springs  in  the  heart  of  those 

Whose  eyes  are  bathed  in  tears. 
But  soon  the  morning's  happier  light 

Its  glory  shall  restore, 
And  eyelids  that  are  sealed  in  death 

Shall  wake  to  close  no  more. 

Rev.  William  Bourne  Oliver  Peabody,  D.  D., 
twin-brother  of  Rev.  O.  W.  B.  Peabody,  was 
born  at  E.xeter,  New  Hampshire,  July  9,  1799, 
and  graduated  at  Harvard  College.  After 
teaching  for  a  year  at  Exeter,  he  studied  the- 
ology at  the  divinity  school  in  Cambridge, 
was  licensed  to  preach  in  181 9,  and  in  1820 
became  pastor  of  the  Unitarian  Church  in 
Springfield,  Mass.  He  retained  this  position 
until  his  death.  May  28,  1847.  Dr.  Peabody 
was  a  man  of  unusual  ability  as  a  scholar  and 
a  poet ;  in  addition  to  biographical  sketches 
and  work  in  hymnology,  he  prepared  a  Re- 
port on  the  Birds  of  the  Cofuinonwealth,  as  he 
was  one  of  the  commissioners  of  the  Massa- 
chusetts zoological  survey.  A  few  of  his 
hymns  are  still  in  use,  the  one  quoted  here 
having  been  published  first  in  his  Poetical 
Catechism  for  the  Young,  1823. 

1069  "Number  our  daysy  C.  M.  D. 

Beneath  our  feet  and  o'er  our  head 

Is  equal  warning  given ; 
Beneath  us  lie  the  countless  dead. 

Above  us  is  the  heaven  ! 
Death  rides  on  every  passing  breeze, 

And  lurks  in  ever>-  flower ; 
Each  season  hath  its  own  disease. 

Its  peril  every  hour ! 

2  Our  eyes  have  seen  the  rosy  light 
Of  youth's  soft  cheek  decay ; 

And  fate  descend  in  sudden  night 

On  manhood's  middle  day. 
Our  eyes  have  seen  the  steps  of  age 

Halt  feebly  to  the  tomb ; 
And  yet  shall  earth  our  hearts  engage, 

And  dreams  of  days  to  come  ? 

3  Then  mortal,  turn  !  thy  danger  know ; 
Where'er  thy  foot  can  tread, 

The  earth  rings  hollow  from  below, 

And  warns  thee  of  her  dead  ! 
Turn,  mortal,  turn  !  thy  .soul  apply 

To  truths  divinelv  given : 
The  dead,  who  underneath  thee  lie. 

Shall  live  for  hell  or  heaven  ! 

Another  of  the  hymns  of  Rev.  Reginald 
Heber,  Bishop  of  Calcutta.  It  may  be  found 
in  full  in  his  book  entitled  Hymns  Written 
and  Adapted  to  the  Weekly  Church  Service 
of  the  Year,  1827.  It  was  prepared  for  a 
funeral  occasion,  and  it  moves  with  a  stately 


grace  much  like  a  procession.  A  beautiful 
story  is  told  of  Buddha  and  a  poor"  woman 
who  came  to  ask  him  if  there  was  any  medi- 
cine which  would  bring  back  to  life  her  dead 
child.  When  he  saw  her  distress  he  spoke 
tenderly  to  her,  and  he  told  her  there  was  one 
thing  which  might  cure  her  son.  He  bade  her 
bring  him  a  handful  of  mustard  seed — com- 
mon mustard-seed;  only  he  charged  her  to 
bring  it  from  a  house  where  neither  father  nor 
mother,  child  nor  servant,  had  died.  So  the 
woman  took  her  dead  baby  in  her  anns  and 
went  from  door  to  door  asking  for  the  mus- 
tard-seed, and  gladly  was  it  given  to  her  ;  but 
when  she  asked  whether  any  had  died  in 
that  house,  each  one  made  the  same  sad  an- 
swer—  "  r  have  lost  my  husband,  or  my  child 
is  dead,"  or  "  our  servant  has  died."  So  with 
a  heavy  heart  the  woman  went  back  to  Buddha 
and  told  him  how  she  had  failed  to  get  a  mus- 
tard-seed, for  she  could  not  find  a  single  house 
where  none  had  died.  Then  Buddha  showed 
her  lovingly  that  she  must  learn  not  to  think 
of  her  own  grief  alone,  but  must  remember 
the  griefs  of  others,  seeing  that  all  alike  are 
sharers  in  sorrow  and  death. 

I090  "We  are  confident."  CM. 

Why  do  we  mourn  departing  friends. 

Or  shake  at  death's  alarms  ? 
'T  is  but  the  voice  that  Jesus  sends 

To  call  them  to  his  arms. 

2  Are  we  not  tending  upward,  too, 
.  As  fast  as  time  can  move  ? 

Nor  would  we  wish  the  hours  more  slow, 
To  keep  us  from  our  love. 

3  Why  should  we  tremble  to  convey 
Their  bodies  to  the  tomb? 

There  the  dear  flesh  of  Jesus  lay. 
And  scattered  all  the  gloom. 

4  The  graves  of  all  the  saints  he  blessed. 
And  softened  every  bed  ; 

Where  should  the  dying  members  rest. 
But  with  the  dying  Head  ? 

5  Thence  he  aro.se,  ascending  high, 
And  showed  our  feet  the  way  ; 

Up  to  the  Lord  we,  too,  shall  fly 
At  the  great  rising-day. 

6  Then  let  the  last  loud  trumpet  sound. 
And  bid  our  kindred  rise ; 

Awake  !  ye  nations  under  ^ound ; 
Ye  saints  !  ascend  the  skies. 

This  poem  by  Dr.  Isaac  Watts  was  pub- 
lished first  in  his  Hymns  and  Spiritual  Songs, 
1707,  and  its  words,  set  to  the  mournful  strains 
of  "  China,"  were  for  generations  associated 
in  this  country  with  funeral  occasions.  Per- 
haps nothing  else  in  hymnology  would  show 
so  clearly  the  advance  which  the  music  of  the 
church  has  made  here.  The  Puritans,  from 
1620  to  1693,  used  Ainsworth's  Psalter, 
brought  over  from  England.     Then  the  Bay 


THE   CHRISTIAN'S   DEATH. 


459 


Psalm-book  was  employed,  of  which  the  New 
England  revision  of  1643  was  one  of  the  first 
books  printed  in  America.  Toward  the  end 
of  that  century  the  art  of  singing  by  note  was 
acquired,  at  which  "  all  were  amazed,  and  still 
more  astonished  that  all  could  finish  a  tune 
together."  In  1721  the  first  book  of  music, 
with  bars  to  divide  the  notes,  was  published, 
and  in  1764  a  collection  of  one  hundred  and 
sixteen  tunes,  engraved  by  Paul  Revere.  A 
new  era  in  American  church  music  was  open- 
ed in  i  770  by  a  book  of  original  tunes,  com- 
posed by  \Vm.  Billings — the  first  American 
who  published  an  original  composition.  He 
was  a  zealous  patriot,  and  his  melodies  did 
much  to  excite  the  spirit  of  liberty.  The  life- 
long exertions  of  Thos.  Hastings  and  Lowell 
Mason  (1792- 187  2)  greatly  advanced  the 
musical  culture  of  the  country,  and  the  work 
of  the  latter  especially  deserves  the  gratitude 
of  New  Englanders. 

The  first  book  printed  in  the  United  States 
was  the  Metrical  Psalm-Book,  issued  at  Cam- 
bridge in  1643.  The  striking  qualities  of  the 
old  hymns,  powerful  in  spite  of  what  seem  to 
us  great  faults,  are  well  described  in  a  poem 
by  Lucy  Larcom : 

"  The  Psalm  tunes  of  the  Puritan — 

The  hymns  that  dared  to  go 
Down  shuddering  through  the  abyss  of  man — 

His  gulfs  of  conscious  woe  ; 
That  scaled  the  utmost  height  of  bliss, 

Where  the  vailed  seraph  sings, 
And  worlds  unseen  brought  down  to  this 

On  music's  mighty  wings  ; 
The  long,  quaint  words,  the  humdrum  rhyme, 

The  verse  that  reads  like  prose, 
Are  relics  of  a  sturdier  time 

Than  modern  childhood  knows. 
And  when  we  sing  some  hard  old  hymn, 

That  rings  like  flint  on  steel. 
Let  not  a  shade  of  mockery  dim 

The  flame  its  words  reveal." 

1091  Resurrection  sure.  CM. 

When  downward  to  the  darksome  tomb 

I  thoughtful  turn  my  eyes. 
Frail  nature  trembles  at  the  gloom, 

And  anxious  fears  arise. 

2  Why  shrinks  my  soul  ? — in  death's  embrace 
Once  Jesus  captive  slept ; 

And  angels,  hovering  o'er  the  place, 
His  lowly  pillow  kept. 

3  Thus  shall  they  guard  my  sleeping  dust. 
And,  as  the  Saviour  rose, 

The  grave  again  shall  yield  her  trust, 
And  end  my  deep  repose. 

4  My  Lord,  before  to  glory  gone. 
Shall  bid  me  come  away ; 

And  calm  and  bright  shall  break  the  dawn 
Of  heaven's  eternal  day. 

5  Then  let  my  faith  each  fear  dispel, 
And  gild  with  light  the  grave; 

To  him  my  loftiest  praises  swell. 
Who  died  from  death  to  save. 

Dr.  Ray  Palmer  wrote  this  hymn  at  Bath, 


Me.,  in  1842.  To  it,  as  was  his  usual  custom, 
he  attached  the  text  on  which  it  was  founded  ; 
in  the  present  instance  it  was  John  11  :25. 
It  first  appeared  in  Parish  Hymns,  1843,  and 
was  entitled  "  Death  Contemplated."  The 
poem  has  a  pathetic  remembrance  connected 
with  it,  because  it  was  the  one  chosen  almost 
universally  to  be  sung  at  the  funeral  and  com- 
memorative services  held  in  the  various 
churches  at  the  time  of  his  death.  It  is  one 
of  the  gladdest  and  brightest  to  be  found  in 
our  hymnaries,  and,  by  its  lofty  sentiment  and 
ringing  words,  lifts  death  out  of  the  valley  of 
wretchedness  and  gloom  into  the  very  sun- 
shine of  Christian  triumph. 

"  My  Lord,  before  to  glory  gone. 
Shall  bid  me  come  away  ; 
And  calm  and  bright  shall  break  the  dawn 
Of  heaven's  eternal  day!" 

In  1882  was  celebrated  the  fiftieth  anniver- 
sary of  Dr.  Palmer's  marriage  to  Miss  Ann 
M.  Ward,  of  New  York.  At  the  golden 
wedding,  which  gathered  to  its  hospitality 
some  of  the  greatest  and  best  of  the  land, 
these  words,  among  others,  were  spoken  by 
his  friend.  Rev.  R.  S.  Storrs,  D.  D.,  of  Brook- 
lyn. Their  truth  will  be  recognized  by  every 
Christian :  "  The  grandest  privilege  which 
God  ever  gives  to  his  children  upon  earth, 
and  which  he  gives  to  comparatively  few,  is 
to  write  a  noble  Christian  hymn,  to  be  ac- 
cepted by  the  churches,  to  be  sung  by  rev- 
erent and  loving  hearts,  in  different  lands  and 
different  tongues,  and  which  still  shall  be 
sung  as  the  future  opens  its  brightening  cen- 
turies  Such   a   hymn   brings   him   to 

whom  it  is  given  into  most  intimate  sympathy 
with  the  Master,  and  with  the  more  sensitive 
and  devout  spirits  of  every  time."  He  died 
on  Tuesday,  March  29,  1887,  at  his  home  in 
Newark,  N.  J.  The  day  previous  he  had 
faintly  murmured  to  himself  a  stanza  from 
his  hymn  entitled  "  Jesus,  these  eyes  have 
never  seen :" 

"  When  death  these  mortal  eyes  shall  seal 
And  still  this  throbbing  heart, 
The  rending  vail  shall  thee  reveal 
All  glorious  as  thou  art." 

These  were  the  last  words  he  was  heard  to 
utter.  Thus  the  voice  of  this  sweet  singer  of 
Israel  chanted  the  praises  of  his  covenant 
God  while  waiting  in  "  the  border-land." 

1 092  Heaven  Alone  Unfading.  L.  M.  D. 

How  vain  is  all  beneath  the  skies ! 

How  transient  every  earthly  bliss  ! 
How  slender  all  the  fondest  ties 

That  bind  us  to  a  world  like  this  ! 
The  evening  cloud,  the  morning  dew, 

The  withering  grass,  the  fading  flower, 
Of  earthly  hopes  are  emblems  true — 

The  glory  of  a  passing  hour. 


46o 


THE   christian's   DEATH. 


2  But.  though  earth's  fairest  blossoms  die, 

And  all  beneath  the  skies  is  vain, 
There  is  a  land  whose  confines  lie 

Beyond  the  reach  of  care  and  pain. 
Then  let  the  hope  of  joys  to  come 

Dispel  our  cares  and  chase  our  fears  : 
If  God  be  ours,  we  're  traveling  home, 

Though  passing  through  a  vale  of  tears. 

Rev.  David  Everard  Ford  was  born  at 
Long  Melford,  England,  September  13,  1797. 
He  decided  to  enter  the  ministry',  and  in  1821 
became  pastor  of  the  Congregational  Church 
in  Lymington,  near  the  Isle  of  Wight,  where 
he  remained  until  he  was  appointed  Travel- 
ing Secretary  to  the  Congregational  Union 
in  1 84 1.  Two  years  later  he  took  charge  of 
Greengate  Chapel,  Manchester.  He  died  at 
Bedford,  October  23,  1875.  The  poem  quoted 
here  is  taken  from  a  book  published  by  Mr. 
Ford,  entitled  Hymns  chiefiy  on  the  Parables 
of  Christ,  1828.  It  is  a  fresh  statement  of 
an  often-repeated  truth,  that  the  things  which 
surround  us,  and  which  seem  so  fair  and  so 
desirable,  are  only  a  passing  delusion.  "  But 
they  that  will  be  rich,  fall  into  temptation, 
and  a  snare,  and  into  many  foolish  and  hurt- 
ful lusts,  which  drown  men  in  destruction 
and  perdition.  For  the  love  of  money  is  the 
root  of  all  evil ;  which  while  some  coveted 
after,  they  have  erred  from  the  faith,  and 
pierced  themselves  through  with  many  sor- 
rows." This  verse  makes  direct  appeal  to 
common  observation.  The  multitudes  rush 
after  wealth  and  show,  and  pursue  shadows 
all  in  the  same  order  and  in  the  same  way. 
Equipages  are  alike ;  dresses  come  in  pat- 
terns ;  we  put  our  latch-keys  in  our  neighbor's 
door,  because  the  houses  are  built  in  regular 
blocks,  and  we  cannot  tell  our  own.  Sheer 
imitation  is  the  law  of  fashion  in  both  social 
and  business  life.  Says  the  thoughtful  author 
of  Lacon :  "  He  that  can  be  honest  only  be- 
cause every  one  else  is  honest,  or  good  only 
because  all  around  him  are  good,  might  have 
continued  an  angel  if  he  had  been  born  one  ; 
but  being  a  man,  he  will  only  add  to  the 
number — numberless — who  go  to  hell  for  the 
bad  things  they  have  done,  and  for  not  doing 
the  good  things  they  intended  to  have  done." 
The  result  of  all  this  is  sadness  and  unutter- 
able dismay.  To  have  tried  to  meet  all  the 
world's  demands,  and  then  to  be  rejected  in 
the  end,  brings  melancholy.  And  no  one 
feels  consoled  in  his  "  many  sorrows  "  to  re- 
member that  he  pierced  himself  "  through 
with  them."  Think  of  the  indescribable  dis- 
gust with  which  the  witty  Dean  Swift,  despair- 
ing of  a  living  recognition,  dedicated  one  of 
his  books  to  Prince  Posterity  !  Think  of  the 
vast  numbers  of  brilliant  men  who  died  in 
disgust,  calling  their  lives  "  a  failure  "  1 


1 093  Psalm  17.  L.  M. 

What  sinners  value  I  resign  ; 
Lord  !  't  is  enough  that  thou  art  mine ; 

1  shall  behold  thy  blissful  face, 

And  stand  complete  in  righteousness. 

2  This  life 's  a  dream — an  empty  show  ; 
But  the  bright  world  to  which  I  go 
Hath  joys  substantial  and  sincere; 
When  shall  I  wake  and  find  me  there? 

3  Oh,  glorious  hour !  oh,  blest  abode ! 
I  shall  be  near,  and  like  my  God ; 
And  flesh  and  sin  no  more  control 
The  sacred  pleasures  of  the  soul. 

4  My  flesh  shall  slumber  in  the  ground, 
Till  the  last  trumpet's  joyful  sound  : 
Then  burst  the  chains,  with  sweet  surprise. 
And  in  my  Saviour's  image  rise ! 

This  is  an  abbreviation  of  a  poem  by  Dr. 
Isaac  Watts,  first  published  in  his  Psalms  of 
David,  1 7 19,  and  headed  "  The  Sinner's  Por- 
tion and  Saint's  Hope,  or,  the  Heaven  of 
Separate  Souls  and  the  Resurrection."  It  is 
a  paraphrase  of  a  portion  of  Psalm  17,  its 
principal  thought  being  the  vast  and  wonder- 
ful surprise  with  which  the  experiences  of  an- 
other world  will  be  rushed  into  disclosure  on 
the  human  soul  when  the  day  of  judgment 
shall  usher  in  the  awful  realities  of  eternity. 
It  was  the  conception  of  an  ancient  philoso- 
pher that  the  human  soul  was  standing,  as  it 
were,  in  the  recesses  of  a  vast  cavern,  and 
gaining  all  its  knowledge  of  the  future  state 
by  a  careful  study  of  the  weird  figures  from 
without  which  traced  themselves  along  on  the 
dimly-lit  inner  walls.  Let  us  accept  the  im- 
age for  a  moment.  The  Christian  believer 
seems  now  to  be  waiting  as  if  within  a  hol- 
low cave,  girt  by  the  rock  on  every  side. 
Often  through  the  narrow  fissure  which  faith 
has  found  come  struggling  in  a  few  faint  rays 
of  illumination,  that  only  half  reveal  the  mys- 
teries of  this  hard  and  cheerless  home ;  and 
now  and  then  there  is  a  gleam  of  a  shadowed 
picture  on  the  stones  around  him  which  indi- 
cates the  existence  and  shows  the  beauty  of 
the  magnificent  realities  without.  Beyond 
the  stony  barriers  he  can  hear  the  rush  and 
roll  of  a  spiritual  life,  of  which  he  learns  too 
little  to  satisfy  his  yearning.  He  longs  for 
the  rock-rent  through  which  he  knows  he  is 
one  day  to  pass.  He  is  a  child  ;  but  the  time 
will  come  when  he  shall  put  away  childish 
things,  and  be  for  ever  a  man. 

At  last  the  hour  arrives.  He  hears  before- 
hand, and  perhaps  trembles  as  he  hears,  the 
groanings  and  rumblings  of  the  final  convul- 
sion. The  earth  quakes,  the  ground  is  opened, 
the  walls  divide,  the  prison  is  dissolved,  and 
the  soul  is  free.  And  oh,  what  a  sight  is  that 
which  now  bursts  upon  his  vision  !  "  Blessed 
are  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall  see  God." 


THE  CHRISTIAN  S   DEATH. 


461 


"  Beloved,  now  are  we  the  sons  of  God,  and 
it  doth  not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be ;  but 
we  know  that  when  he  shall  appear,  we  shall 
be  like  him,  for  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is." 
"  For  now  we  see  through  a  glass,  darkly ; 
but  then  face  to  face ;  now  I  know  in  part ; 
but  then  shall  I  know  even  as  also  I  am 
known." 


1094 


"His  beloved  sleep." 


Why  should  we  start,  and  fear  to  die? 

What  timorous  worms  we  mortals  are  ! 
Death  is  the  gate  of  endless  joy, 

And  yet  we  dread  to  enter  there. 

2  The  pains,  the  groans,  the  dying  strife. 
Fright  our  approaching  souls  away  ; 

We  still  shrink  back  again  to  life, 
Fond  of  our  prison  and  our  clay. 

3  Oh,  if  my  Lord  would  come  and  meet. 
My  soul  should  stretch  her  wings  in  haste. 

Fly  fearless  through  death's  iron  gate, 
Nor  feel  the  terrors  as  she  passed. 

4  Jesus  can  make  a  dying  bed 
Feel  soft  as  downy  pillows  are. 

While  on  his  breast  I  lean  my  head. 
And  breathe  my  life  out  sweetly  there  ! 

In  Rev.  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  Hymns  and  Spir- 
itual Songs,  1707,  this  piece  was  first  pub- 
lished, with  the  title,  "  Death  Contemplated." 
It  is  a  picture  of  the  reluctance  and  dread 
with  which  the  unconverted  meet  their  end, 
while  for  the  believer  Christ  transforms  its 
terrors  into  peace  and  joy.  Instead  of  being 
forced  to  surrender  all  he  loves,  he  goes  to 
new  and  everlasting  delights.  One  of  Dean 
Trench's  sermons  on  the  subject,  "  What  we 
can  and  what  we  can  not  carry  away  when 
we  die,"  commences  thus  appositely  :  "  Alex- 
ander the  Great,  being  upon  his  death-bed, 
commanded  that,  when  he  was  carried  forth 
to  the  grave,  his  hands  should  not  be  wrapped, 
as  was  usual,  in  the  cere  cloths,  but  should  be 
left  outside  the  bier,  so  that  all  men  might  see 
them,  and  might  see  that  they  were  empty." 
The  Christian's  hands  may  be  empty  at  death, 
but  he  has  in  his  heart  the  love  of  the  Lord 
Jesus,  the  most  precious  of  all  treasures,  and 
that  he  will  carry  with  him  into  heaven. 


1095 


Death  0/  the  Righteous. 


How  blest  the  righteous  when  he  dies, 
When  sinks  a  weary  soul  to  rest  ! 

How  mildly  beam  the  closing  eyes  ! 
How  gently  heaves  the  expiring  breast ! 

2  So  fades  a  summer-cloud  away  ; 

So  sinks  the  gale  when  storms  are  o'er; 
So  gently  shuts  the  eye  of  day ; 
So  dies  a  wave  along  the  shore. 

3  A  holy  quiet  reigns  around, 

A  calm  which  life  nor  death  destroys  ; 
And  naught  disturbs  that  peace  profound 
Which  his  unfettered  soul  enjoys. 


4  Life's  labor  done,  as  sinks  the  clay. 
Light  from  its  load  the  spirit  flies ; 

While  heaven  and  earth  combine  to  say, 
"  How  blest  the  righteous  when  he  dies  !" 

This  poem,  written  by  Mrs.  Anna  La^titia 
Barbauld,  probably  about  1773,  is  to  be  found 
entire  in  the  Works  of  A.  L.  Barbauld,  ^m'th 
a  Memoir,  published  in  1825,  by  Lucy  Aikin, 
her  niece,  where  it  is  entitled  "  The  Death  of 
the  Virtuous."  The  first  line  is,  "Sweet  is 
the  scene  when  virtue  dies  !"  It  is,  perhaps, 
the  most  popular  of  all  her  hymns,  and  many 
alterations  have  been  made  in  it  by  various 
compilers  with  a  view  of  bringing  it  into  reli- 
gious shape  in  phraseology  and  sentiment.  It 
is  a  singular  piece  to  use  at  the  funeral  of  a 
Christian  ;  for  after  all  it  contains  no  address 
to  God,  no  allusion  of  any  sort  to  an  atone- 
ment for  sin  or  a  meetness  for  heaven  through 
grace.  It  is  a  simple  meditation  in  excellent 
rhyme  and  meter,  but  it  does  not  rise  above 
an  ordinary  commonplace  of  merit  as  an  ut- 
terance of  faith  and  hope.  It  is  to  be  ranked 
as  the  companion  in  thought,  and  as  the  in- 
ferior in  poetic  imagery,  of  her  remembered 
and  beautiful  lines : 

"  Life  !  we  've  been  long  together. 
Through  pleasant  and  through  cloudy  weather ; 
'T  is  hard  to  part  when  friends  are  dear — 
Perhaps  't  will  cost  a  sigh,  a  tear; 
Then  steal  away,  give  little  warning. 

Choose  thine  own  time  ; 
Say  not  Good-night,  but  in  some  brighter  clime 

Bid  me  Good-morning." 

1096  "  Asleep  in  Jesus."  L.  M. 

Asleep  in  Jesus!  blessed  sleep! 
From  which  none  ever  wake  to  weep; 
A  calm  and  undisturbed  repose,  ' 

Unbroken  by  the  last  of  foes. 

2  Asleep  in  Jesus!  oh,  how  sweet! 
To  be  for  such  a  slumber  meet ! 
With  holy  confidence  to  sing 

That  death  hath  lost  its  venomed  sting ! 

3  Asleep  in  Jesus  !  peaceful  rest  ! 
Whose  waking  is  supremely  blest  ; 
No  fear — no  woe,  shall  dim  the  hour 
That  manifests  the  Saviour's  power. 

4  Asleep  in  Jesus  !  oh,  for  me 
May  such  a  blissful  refuge  be ; 
Securely  shall  my  ashes  lie. 

And  wait  the  summons  from  on  high. 

Mrs.  Margaret  Mackay  was  born  in  1802 
and  was  the  only  daughter  of  Capt.  Mackay, 
of  Hedgefield,  Inverness,  Scotland.  In  1820 
she  was  married  to  Major  William  Mackay, 
an  officer  distinguished  for  his  bravery.  She 
died  at  Cheltenham,  January  5,  1887.  In 
addition  to  several  prose  works  she  wrote 
more  than  seventy  hymns,  the  best  known  of 
which  is  given  here.  It  appeared  first  in 
The  Amethyst ;  or  Christian's  Annual  for 
iSj2,  with  this  introduction,  "  Sleeping  in 
Jesus.       By    Mrs.    Mackay    of     Hedgefield. 


462 


THE   CHRISTIAN  S   DEATH. 


This  simple  but  expressive  sentence  is  in- 
scribed on  a  tombstone  in  a  rural  burying- 
ground  in  Devonshire,  and  gave  rise  to  the 
following  verses."  In  a  later  reprint  Mrs. 
Mackay  says  the  burying-ground  is  that  of 
Pennycross  Chapel,  and  adds  :  "  Distant  only 
a  few  miles  from  a  bustling  and  crowded 
seaport  town,  reached  through  a  succession 
of  those  lovely  green  lanes  for  which  Devon- 
shire is  so  remarkable,  the  quiet  aspect  of 
Pennycross  comes  soothingly  over  the  mind. 
'  Sleeping  in  Jesus  '  seems  in  keeping  with  all 
around." 


1097 


"■For  ever." 


S.  M.  D. 


"  For  ever  with  the  Lord  !" 

So,  Jesus  !  let  it  be; 
Life  from  the  dead  is  in  that  word  ; 

'T  is  immortality. 
Here,  in  the  body  pent, 

Absent  from  thee  I  roam  ; 
Yet  nightly  pitch  my  moving  tent 

A  day's  march  nearer  home. 

2  My  Father's  house  on  high, 
Home  of  my  soul !  how  near. 

At  times,  to  faith's  aspiring  eye. 

Thy  golden  gates  appear  ! 
"  For  ever  with  the  Lord  !" 

Father,  if 't  is  thy  will, 
The  promise  of  thy  gracious  word 

Ev'n  here  to  me  fulfill. 

3  So,  when  my  latest  breath 
Shall  rend  the  vail  in  twain, 

By  death  I  shall  escape  from  death, 

And  life  eternal  gam. 
Knowing  as  I  am  known, 

How  shall  I  love  that  word, 
And  oft  repeat  before  the  throne, 

"  For  ever  with  the  Lord  !" 

This  hymn  by  James  Montgomery  first  ap- 
peared in  an  annual.  The  Amethyst,  in  1835, 
as  a  poem  of  twenty-two  stanzas.  Numerous 
arrangements  from  it  have  been  made,  and 
have  attained  great  popularity  ;  the  one  given 
here  is  perhaps  the  favorite  cento.  The 
hymn  was  inspired  by  the  concluding  verses 
in  the  fourth  chapter  of  I.  Thessalonians : 
"  For  this  we  say  unto  you  by  the  word  of  the 
Lord,  that  we  which  are  alive  and  remain 
unto  the  coming  of  the  Lord  shall  not  prevent 
them  which  are  asleep.  For  the  Lord  himself 
shall  descend  from  heaven  with  a  shout,  with 
the  voice  of  the  archangel,  and  with  the  trump 
of  God :  and  the  dead  in  Christ  shall  rise 
first :  then  we  which  are  alive  and  remain 
shall  be  caught  up  together  with  them  in  the 
clouds,  to  meet  the  Lord  in  the  air :  and  so 
shall  we  ever  be  with  the  Lord.  .Wherefore 
comfort  one  another  with  these  words." 
There  is  comfort  in  the  picture  thus  offered 
us,  for  those  who  have  been  bereaved.  Our 
friends  are  only  asleep :  they  are  not  lost ; 
they  are  with  Christ  now:  they  will  come 
back   to  the  earth  when   Jesus   comes,    no 


matter  how  long  ago,  no  matter  where,  they 
died ;  and  they  will  be  for  ever  with  him 
wherever  he  is.  And  we  shall  be  with  them 
in  the  same  blessed  companionship,  shall 
know  them  and  dwell  with  them.  There  is 
comfort  in  the  suggestion  that  perhaps  we 
shall  not  have  to  die  after  all.  Some  Christ- 
ians are  going  to  be  alive  at  the  moment 
when  Jesus  shall  appear  in  the  air.  Nobody 
loves  death  ;  it  is  the  awful  curse  of  the  race, 
the  sting  of  all  our  experiences.  Nobody 
can  think  of  the  grave  without  shuddering  ;  it 
seem  dark  and  chill.  How  fine  it  would  be 
to  escape  all  that !  How  glorioiis  to  believe 
it  may  be  possible  that  the  Lord's  coming  is 
so  near  at  hand  now  that  even  the  pale  in- 
valid we  are  watching  will  not  be  compelled 
to  have  a  funeral  or  to  wear  a  shroud  ! 

I098  "Nearer."  S.  M.  D. 

One  sweetly  solemn  thought 

Comes  to  me  o'er  and  o'er — 
Nearer  my  home,  to-day,  am  I 

Than  e'er  I  've  been  before. 
Nearer  my  Father's  house, 

Where  many  mansions  be  ; 
Nearer  to-day  the  great  white  throne, 

Nearer  the  crystal  sea. 

2  Nearer  the  bound  of  life. 
Where  burdens  are  laid  down  : 

Nearer  to  leave  the  heavy  cross  : 

Nearer  to  gain  the  crown. 
But,  lying  dark  between, 

Winding  down  through  the  night, 
There  rolls  the  deep  and  unknown  stream 

That  leads  at  last  to  light. 

3  Ev'n  now,  perchance,  my  feet 
Are  slipping  on  the  brink, 

And  I,  to-day,  am  nearer  home — 

Nearer  than  now  I  think. 
Father,  perfect  my  trust  ! 

Strengthen  my  power  of  faith  ! 
Nor  let  me  stand,  at  last,  alone 

Upon  the  shore  of  death. 

Miss  Phoebe  Cary  was  born  in  the  Miami 
Valley,  near  Cincinnati,  O.,  September  24, 
1824.  She  was  the  younger  of  the  two  sis- 
ters whose  names  are  always  associated  in  the 
mention  of  their  literary  work.  Alice  was 
born  four  years  before  Phoebe,  and  in  the  end 
achieved  a  somewhat  higher  celebrity.  The 
younger  sister  is  known  familiarly  to  the 
churches  almost  entirely  by  this  single  poem 
which  has  had  the  good  fortune  to  find  a 
place  in  most  of  the  collections  of  hymns  pub- 
lished in  modern  times,  though  it  has  been 
altered  in  order  to  be  used  in  song.  Alice 
'  and  Phoebe  Cary  published  a  small  volume  of 
their  pieces  jointly  in  1850.  This  became  al- 
most immediately  popular,  so  that,  encour- 
aged by  the  success  of  it,  they  removed  to 
New  York  city  in  1852,  and  they  readily  sus- 
tained themselves  by  their  writings. 

More  has  been  made  of  the  religious  views 


THE  christian's   DEATH. 


463 


some  newspaper  in  1850,  and  pasted  it,  as  a 
very  beautiful  composition,  in  his  ancient 
scrap-book,  which  has  served  him  well  in  these 
long  forty  years  of  preservation  since  it  was 
begun.  Whether  that  can  be  found  elsewhere 
he  does  not  know,  and  he  is  interested  to  per- 
petuate it  here : 


"One  sweetly  solemn  thought  conies  to  me  o'er  and 

o'er — 
I  am  nearer  home  to-day  than  I  ever  have  been  before. 
Nearer  my  Father's  house,  where  the  many  mansions  be  : 
Nearer  the  great  white  throne;  nearer  the  crystal  sea  ; 
Nearer  the  bound  of  life,  where  we  lay  our  burdens 

down  j 
Nearer  leaving  the  cross  ;  nearer  gaining  the  crown. 
But  lying  darkly  between,  winding  down  through  the 

night. 
Is  the  deep  and  unknown  stream  that  leads  at  last  to 

the  light. 
Father,  perfect  my  trust !  strengthen  the  might  of  my 

faith ; 
Let  me  feel  as  I  would  when  I  stand  on  the  rock  of  the 

shore  of  death ! 
Feel  as  I  would  when  my  feet  are  slipping  over  the 

brink ; 
For  it  may  be,  I  'm  nearer  home — nearer  now  than  I 

think!  " 


MISS  PHCEBE  GARY. 


of  Phoebe  Cary  than  is  necessary  for  any  pur- 
pose of  good.  When  she  came  on  from  Ohio 
she  at  once  went  under  the  pastoral  care  of 
Rev.  Dr.  George  B.  Cheever,  widely  known 
as  a  Congregational  minister.  Afterward, 
when  he  relinquished  the  Church  of  the  Puri- 
tans and  removed  to  New  Jersey,  she  was 
under  the  pastoral  teaching  of  Rev.  Dr. 
Charles  F.  Deems,  and  was  associated  with 
him  in  preparing  a  local  book  of  hymns  for  use 
in  the  services  of  the  Church  of  the  Strangers, 
an  undenominational  organization  of  which 
this  faithful  and  orthodox  preacher  has  been 
so  long  the  minister. 

Miss  Phoebe  Cary  composed  this  poem 
when  in  her  twenty-eighth  year.  She  has  re- 
lated that  it  was  made  in  a  "  little  back  third- 
story  bedroom  one  Sunday  morning  after  com- 
ing from  church ;"  and  she  added,  in  her 
quaint  recital,  that  it  made  her  happy  to  think 
that  any  word  she  could  say  had  "  done  a 
little  good  in  the  world."  She  is  known  to 
have  been  a  patient  and  painstaking  writer, 
often  correcting  and  altering  her  work  re- 
peatedly. Her  latest  changes  in  this  poem, 
reducing  it  to  a  comparatively  tame  version, 
but  metrical  enough  at  any  rate  to  be  sung  in 
an  ordinary  tune,  appeared  in  1869.  The 
compiler  of  Son^s  for  the  Sanctuary  preferred 
the  original  form.      He  cut  the  piece  from 


To  this  there  was  fitted  a  simple,  and  yet 
exquisite,  chant ;  and  so  it  used  to  be  sung  in 
Brooklyn  by  the  best  choir  we  ever  had  ;  and 
a  wide  circle  of  singers  learned  to  love  and 
use  it.  When,  subsequently,  Laudes  Domini 
was  compiled,  there  were  a  dozen  versions  of 
the  poetry  floating  around  in  the  various 
hymn-books.  Something  had  to  be  done, 
for  the  people  were  fond  of  the  sentiment ; 
but  the  meter  was  too  awkward  to  manage. 
So  that  version  which  we  liked  best  on  the 
whole  was  chosen  ;  and  it  now  goes  at  least 
comfortably  to  A.  S.  Sullivan's  arrangement 
of  I.  B.  Woodbury's  tune  in  double  short 
meter. 

Mrs.  Mary  Clemmer  Ames,  their  devoted 
friend,  prepared  the  biography  of  these  two 
sisters.  She  tells  us  that  Phoebe  went  to 
Newport,  R.  I.,  and  was  there  in  feeble  health 
and  much  saddened  by  the  chronic  illness  of 
Alice,  whose  death  at  last  almost  broke  her 
heart.  July  31,  1871,  Phoebe's  summons 
arrived.  The  rest  is  told  by  the  biographer ; 
only  we  cannot  help  thinking  how  much 
"  nearer  "  than  she  thought  she  had  for  some 
days  really  been.  "  There,  without  an  in- 
stant's warning,  her  death-throe  came.  She 
knew  it.  Throwing  up  her  arm  in  instinctive 
fright,  this  loving,  believing,  but  timid  soul, 
who  had  never  stood  alone  in  all  her  mortal 
life,  as  she  felt  herself  drifting  out  into  the 
unknown,  the  eternal — starting  on  the  awful 
passage  from  whence  there  is  no  return — 
cried,  in  a  low  and  piercing  voice  :  '  O  God, 
have  mercy  on  my  soul ! '  and  died." 


464 


THE   CHRISTIAN  S   DEATH. 


1 099  "  A  little  while."  S.  M.  D. 

A  FEW  more  years  shall  roll, 

A  few  more  seasons  come, 
And  we  shall  be  with  those  that  rest 

Asleep  within  the  tomb : 

Ref. — Then,  O  my  Lord,  prepare 

My  soul  for  that  great  day  ; 
Oh,  wash  me  in  thy  precious  blood, 
And  take  my  sins  away. 

2  A  few  more  suns  shall  set 
O'er  these  dark  hills  of  time, 

And  we  shall  be  where  suns  are  not, 
A  far  serener  clime : — Ref. 

3  A  few  more  storms  shall  beat 
On  this  wild  rocky  shore, 

And  we  shall  be  where  tempests  cease 
And  surges  swell  no  more: — Ref. 

4  A  few  more  struggles  here, 
A  few  more  partings  o'er, 

A  few  more  toils,  a  few  more  tears, 
And  we  shall  weep  no  more : — Ref. 

5  'T  is  but  a  little  while 
And  he  shall  come  again, 

Who  died  that  we  might  live,  who  lives 
That  we  with  him  may  reign  : — Ref. 

Rev.  Dr  Horatius  Bonar  wrote  this  hymn 
about  the  year  1842,  and  had  it  printed  on  a 
fly-leaf  for  the  use  of  his  congregation  on 
New  Year's  day.  In  his  Songs  for  the  IVz'l- 
derness,  1844,  it  was  republished,  and  has 
become  universally  popular.  It  is  especially 
appropriate  to  ser\aces  which  mark  the  end 
of  one  year  and  the  beginning  of  another,  as 
its  central  thought  is  the  brevity  of  our  life  in 
this  world,  and  the  quick  approach  of  eter- 
nity. There  is  comfort  in  the  recollection 
that  time  hurries.  "  Now  is  our  .salvation 
nearer  than  when  we  believed."  Is  it  possi- 
ble, then,  any  truly  Christian  heart  can  be 
alarmed  in  prospect  of  Christ's  coming.'' 
What  is  there  that  one  could  wish  more  de- 
voutly ?  What  sort  of  a  wife  must  she  be, 
whose  husband  is  suddenly  announced  as 
returning  from  long  absence  over  the  sea,  if 
she  changes  color  and  seems  abashed } 
The  Church  is  the  Lamb's  bride ;  ought  she 
not  to  make  herself  ready  joyously .'  If  her 
life  be  pure,  and  her  heart  loyal,  will  she  not 
hail  the  signs  of  the  advent  ? 

"So  I  am  watching  quietly 

Every  day. 
Whenever  the  sun  shines  brightly, 

I  rise  and  say: 
'  Surely  it  is  the  shining  of  his  face !' 
And  look  upon  the  gates  of  his  high  place 

Beyond  the  sea ; 
For  I  know  he  is  coming  shortly 

To  summon  me. 
And  when  a  shadow  falls  across  the  window 

Of  my  room. 
Where  I  am  working  my  appointed  task, 
I  lift  my  head  to  watch  the  door  and  ask 

If  he  is  come: 
And  then  the  angel  answers  sweetly 

In  my  home: 
'  Only  a  few  more  shadows, 

And  he  will  come.'  " 


i  1 00  "  Where  is  thy  victory  ?"  S.  M. 

It  is  not  death  to  die — 

To  leave  this  weary  road. 
And  'mid  the  brotherhood  on  high, 

To  be  at  home  with  God. 

2  It  is  not  death  to  close 

The  eye  long  dimmed  by  tears. 
And  wake,  in  glorious  repose 
To  spend  eternal  years. 

3  It  is  not  death  to  bear 

The  wrench  that  sets  us  free 
From  dungeon  chain — to  breathe  the  air 
Of  boundless  liberty. 

4  It  is  not  death  to  fling 
Aside  this  sinful  dust. 

And  rise,  on  strong  exulting  wing, 
To  live  among  the  just. 

5  Jesus,  thou  Prince  of  life! 
Thy  chosen  cannot  die ; 

Like  thee,  they  conquer  in  the  strife, 
To  reign  with  thee  on  high. 

Dr.  George  Washington  Bethune  translated 
this  hymn  from  one  written  by  a  distin- 
guished preacher  in  Switzerland,  Dr.  Caesar 
Malan.  The  original  piece  commences  with 
the  line  "  JVon,  ce  n'  est  pas  mourir."  It 
may  be  found  in  the  author's  little  volume, 
containing  three  hundred  religious  poems,  to 
which  he  gave  the  name  of  Chants  de  Sion. 
This  rendering,  excellent  in  itself,  takes  a  pa- 
thetic interest  from  the  fact  that  the  officiat- 
ing minister  chose  it  to  be  sung  at  the 
funeral  of  Dr.  Bethune  himself.  It  pictured 
the  singular  experience  of  his  departure 
somewhat  fittingly,  for  Dr.  Bethune  kept  up 
his  work  to  the  very  last  of  life.  He 
preached  on  Sunday  evening  and  fell  away 
into  sleep,  from  which  he  awaked  "  in  glori- 
ous repose  to  spend  eternal  years."  He 
wrote  a  hjTnn  that  very  evening  before  he 
died,  April  27,  1862  ;  in  this  are  given  us  the 
lines  which  are  his  final  testimony  to  the  truth 
he  proclaimed : 

"  I  read  God's  holy  Word,  and  find 
Great  truths  which  far  transcend  my  mind ; 
And  little  do  I  know  beside 
Of  thought  so  high,  and  deep,  and  wide. 
This  is  my  best  theology — 
I  know  the  Saviour  dieid  for  me." 


I  I O I  Death  of  a  Veteran. 

Servant  of  God,  well  done  ! 

Rest  from  thy  loved  employ  : 
The  battle  fought,  the  victory  won. 

Enter  thy  Master's  joy ! 

2  The  voice  at  midnight  came ; 
He  started  up  to  hear  ; 

A  mortal  arrow  pierced  his  frame ; 
He  fell,  but  felt  no  fear. 

3  His  spirit  with  a  bound 
Left  its  encumbering  clay : 

His  tent,  at  sunrise,  on  the  ground 
A  darkened  ruin  lay. 

4  The  pains  of  death  are  past. 
Labor  and  sorrow  cease, 

And^  life's  long  warfare  closed  at  last, 
His  soul  is  found  in  peace. 


S.  M. 


THE  CHRISTIAN  S   DEATH. 


465 


5  Soldier  of  Christ,  well  done ! 

Praise  be  thy  new  employ ; 
And,  while  eternal  ages  run. 

Rest  in  thy  Saviour's  joy. 

This  piece  of  James  Montgomery  first  ap- 
peared in  his  Greenland  atid  Other  Poems, 
1 8 19,  with  the  following  title  :  "  The  Chris- 
tian Soldier.  Occasioned  by  the  sudden 
death  of  the  Rev.  Thomas  Taylor ;  After 
having  declared  in  his  last  Sermon,  on  a 
preceding  evening,  that  he  hoped  to  die  as  an 
old  soldier  of  Jesus  Christ,  with  his  sword  in 
his  hand."  Mr.  Taylor,  a  Methodist  preacher, 
had  been  found  dead  in  his  bed  on  the 
morning  of  October  15,  18 16.  Singularly 
enough,  a  similar  fate  was  in  store  for  Mr. 
Montgomery,  who  died  in  his  sleep,  April  30, 
1854.  The  hymn  has  been  widely  used,  as  it 
expresses  so  eloquently  the  feeling  of  one 
who  has  been  faithful  to  the  trust  committed 
to  him,  and  now  enters  into  the  joy  of  his 
Lord.  The  winding  up  of  some  grand  musi- 
cal overture  is  a  wonderful  exhibition  of  a 
general  triumph  through  individual  faithful- 
ness. Each  violinist  sees  only  the  sheet  of 
music  before  him  ;  each  horn  and  cornet 
player  knows  exactly  when  he  is  to  enter 
upon  the  work,  and  when  he  is  to  leave  off : 
the  striker  of  the  cymbals,  and  the  man  who 
beats  the  drums,  watch  their  music  as  care- 
fully as  the  most  intricate  soloist,  and  while 
the  leader  guides  them  all  with  his  quick- 
moving  baton,  and  swells  the  closing  triumph 
of  the  finale  by  his  skill  in  generalship,  it  is, 
after  all,  the  fidelity  of  each  individual  player 
to  the  music  placed  before  him  which  insures 
the  closing  triumph  and  the  loud  and  long 
applause.  John  Bunyan  thus  describes  the 
death  of  Faithful  at  Vanity  Fair:  "They 
therefore  brought  him  out  to  do  with  him  ac- 
cording to  their  law  ;  and  first  they  scourged 
him,  after  that  they  stoned  him  with  stones, 
and  last  of  all  they  burned  him  to  ashes  at 
the  stake.  Thus  came  Faithful  to  his  end. 
Now  I  saw  that  there  stood  behind  the  multi- 
tude a  chariot  and  a  couple  of  horses  waiting 
for  Faithful,  who,  so  soon  as  his  adversaries 
had  despatched  him,  was  taken  up  into  it,  and 
straightway  was  carried  up  through  the 
clouds,  with  sound  of  trumpet,  the  nearest 
way  to  the  Celestial  Gate." 

i  1 02  The  Pious  Dead.  S.  M. 

For  all  thy  saints,  O  Lord, 

Who  strove  in  Christ  to  live, 
Who  followed  him,  obeyed,  adored. 

Our  grateful  hymn  receive. 

2  For  all  thy  saints,  O  Lord, 

Accept  our  thankful  cry, 
Who  counted  Christ  their  great  reward, 

And  yearned  for  him  to  die. 


3  They  all,  in  life  and  death, 
With  him,  their  Lord,  in  view, 

Learned  from  thy  Holy  Spirit's  breath 
To  suffer  and  to  do. 

4  For  this  thy  name  we  bless. 
And  humbly  pray  that  we 

May  follow  them  in  holiness. 
And  live  and  die  in  thee. 


Rev.  Richard  Mant,  D.  D.,  Bishop  of 
Down  and  Connor  in  Ireland,  is  the  author 
of  this  "  Hymn  on  All  Saints,"  as  he  en- 
titled it.  In  1842  he  became  Bishop  of  Dro- 
more.  The  piece  was  included  in  his  An- 
cient Hymns  from  the  Roman  Breznary  for 
Doinesttc  Use,  1837,  and  appears  in  the 
Original  Hymns,  which  he  added  to  the 
translations  from  the  Latin.  If  we  judge 
from  the  collections  in  which  it  has  appeared 
(sometimes  with  the  first  line  altered  to 
"  For  all  thy  saints,  O  God "),  we  should 
reckon  it  as  the  most  popular  of  his  volumi- 
nous productions.  It  is  possible  for  one  to  be 
too  protestant  for  his  own  good ;  for  indeed 
we  all  agree  in  believing  that  the  biographies 
of  God's  holy  people  are  full  of  cheer  and 
help  to  the  Church. 

I  103  Death  of  a  Child.  7s,  8s,  7s. 

Tender  Shepherd,  thou  hast  stilled, 
Now  thy  little  lamb's  brief  weeping  : 

Ah,  how  peaceful,  pale,  and  mild 
In  its  narrow  bed  't  is  sleeping  ! 

And  no  sigh  of  anguish  sore 

Heaves  that  little  bosom  more. 

2  In  this  world  of  care  and  pain, 
Lord,  thou  wouldst  no  longer  leave  it, 

To  the  sunny  heavenly  plain 

Thou  dost  now  with  joy  receive  it ; 
Clothed  in  robes  of  spotless  white. 
Now  it  dwells  with  thee  in  light. 

3  Ah,  Lord  Jesus,  grant  that  we 
Where  it  lives  may  soon  be  living, 

And  the  lovely  pastures  see 

That  its  heavenly  food  are  giving ; 
Then  the  gain  of  death  we  prove. 
Though  thou  take  what  most  we  love. 

Miss  Catharine  Winkworth  published  this 
hymn,  appropriate  for  the  funeral  of  a  child, 
in  Lyra  Germanica,  Second  Series,  1858. 
It  was  translated  from  the  poem  of  Johann 
Wilhelm  Meinhold,  beginning,  "  Gider  Hirt, 
du  hast  g est illet."  In  1868  the  first  fine, 
which  was  "  Gentle  Shepherd,"  was  altered 
in  Hymns,  Ancient  and  Modern,  where  it 
appears  in  the  Appetidix  as  "  Tender  Shep- 
herd." From  this  our  copy  was  taken,  and 
the  change  has  been  accepted  in  many  of  the 
modern  collections.  The  author  of  the  orig- 
inal was  in  1844  pastor  at  Rehwinkel,  near 
Stargard.  He  was  born  at  Netzelkow,  Feb- 
ruary 27,  1797,  and  died  at  Charlottenburg, 
November  30,  1851. 

30 


466 


THE  CHRISTIAN  S   DEATH. 


I  104 


Ve  shall  live  also." 


7s,  8s,  ys. 


Jesus  lives  !  no  longer  now 

Can  thy  terrors,  Death,  appall  me ; 

Jesus  lives !  and  well  I  know 

From  the  dead  he  will  recall  me  ; 

Better  life  will  then  commence — 

This  shall  be  my  confidence. 

2  Jesus  lives!  to  him  the  throne 
Over  all  the  world  is  given ; 

I  shall  go  where  he  is  gone, 

Live  and  reign  with  him  in  heaven  ; 
God  is  pledged ;  weak  doubtings,  hence ! 
This  shall  be  my  confidence  ! 

3  Jesus  lives  !  henceforth  is  death 
Entrance  into  life  immortal ; 

Calmly  I  can  yield  my  breath. 

Fearless  tread  the  frowning  portal ; 
Lord,  when  faileth  flesh  and  sense. 
Thou  wilt  be  my  confidence  ! 

Miss  Frances  Elizabeth  Cox  translated 
this  hymn  from  that  of  Christian  Fiirchtegott 
Gellert,  "Jesus  lebt,  mit  ihm  auch  z'ch."  It 
was  published  in  her  Sacred  Hymns,  1841, 
and  was  assigned  to  Easter  Day  with  the 
text  attached  to  it,  Romans  8:11.  The  Ger- 
man author  Gellert  was  born  at  Hainichen, 
Saxony,  July  4,  171 5  ;  his  father  was  the  min- 
ister of  the  parish  in  that  town :  the  boy's 
life  was  hard,  and  he  found  it  difficult  to  se- 
cure an  education.  Never  really  well  or 
rugged,  he  could  not  preach ;  he  delivered 
lectures  and  wrote  poems  for  the  people.  He 
did  much  good  and  died  in  the  faith  in  De- 
cember, 1769.  When  he  was  at  the  last  he 
was  told  that  he  had  only  an  hour  longer  to 
live  ;  he  raised  his  hands  with  a  gesture  of 
happy  surprise,  saying,  "  Now,  God  be  praised, 
only  an  hour  more  !" 

(  105  "  The  new  life."  P.M. 

Hark,  hark,  my  soul !  angelic  songs  are  swelling 
O'er  earth's  green  fields  and  ocean's  wave-beat  shore : 

How  sweet  the  truth  those  blessfid  strains  are  telling 
Of  that  new  life  when  sin  shall  be  no  more. 

Ref. — Angels  of  Jesus,  angels  of  li^ht. 

Singing  to  welcome  the  pilgrims  of  the  night. 

2  Onward  we  go,  for  still  we  hear  them  singing. 
Come,  weary  souls,  for  Jesus  bids  you  come; 

And  through  the  dark,  its  echoes  sweetly  ringing. 
The  music  of  the  gospel  leads  us  home. — ELef. 

3  Far,  far  away,  like  bells  at  evening  pealing, 
The  voice  of  Jesus  sounds  o'er  land  and  sea; 

And  laden  souls,  by  thousands  meekly  stealing. 
Kind  Shepherd,  turn  their  weary  steps  to  thee. — Ref. 

4  Angels,  sing  on,  your  faithful  watches  keeping. 
Sing  us  sweet  fragments  of  the  songs  above  ; 

Till  morning's  joy  shall  end  the  night  of  weeping, 
And  life's  long  shadows  break  in  cloudless  love. — Ref. 

Rev.  Frederick  William  Faber,  D.  D.,  wrote 
this  exquisitely  beautiful  poem  some  little  time 
previous  to  the  publication  of  his  Oratory 
Hymns  in  1854,  in  which  it  was  included.  He 
entitled  it  "  The  Pilgrims  of  the  Night."  Its 
earliest  adoption  as  a  hymn  for  singing  in 
public  service  was  in  Hymns,  Ancient  attd 
Modern,  when  the  Appendix  was  added  in 


1868.  The  immense  popularity  it  achieved 
was  owing  somewhat  to  the  music  which  was 
set  to  carry  it.  Tunes  multiplied,  written  by 
the  best  composers,  and  these  were  very  fine. 
A  place  is  still  left  for  its  use,  but  it  would 
not  be  right  to  leave  unsaid  the  expressions  of 
doubt  as  to  its  doctrine.  Is  it  just  true  that 
angels  are  singing  all  around  us  so  that  we 
"  hear  them  "  .'*  The  soberest  hymnologists  are 
beginning  to  see  that  the  popular  sense  has 
been  deceived  by  music  and  rhythm  and  mel- 
ody of  language.  The  misgiving  settles  upon 
what  the  Dictionary' of  Hymnology  calls  "  its 
unreality."  Still,  some  would  miss  it  if  it 
were  dropped  out  of  the  collections  now. 

1  f  06  Death  at  Prime.  P.  M. 

Go  to  the  grave  in  all  thy  glorious  prime ! 

In  full  activity  oi  zeal  and  power ; 
A  Christian  cannot  die  before  his  time  ; 

The  Lord's  appointment  is  the  servant's  hour. 

Ref. — Servant  of  Jesus,  pass  to  thy  rest : 

Soldier  of  Jesus,  go  dwell  among  the  blest. 

2  Go  to  the  grave :  at  noon  from  labor  cease  ; 
Rest  on  thy  sheaves,  thy  harvest  task  is  done ; 

Come  from  the  heat  of  battle,  and  in  peace, 
Soldier !  go  home ;  with  thee  the  fight  is  won. — Ref. 

3  Go  to  the  grave,  for  there  thy  Saviour  lay 
In  death's  embraces,  ere  he  rose  on  high  ; 

And  all  the  ransomed,  by  that  narrow  way. 
Pass  to  eternal  life  beyond  the  sky. — Ref. 

4  Go  to  the  g^ve?  no,  take  thy  seat  above  ! 
Be  thy  pure  spirit  present  with  the  Lord, 

Where  thou  for  faith  and  hope  hast  perfect  love, 
And  open  vision  for  the  written  word. — Ref. 

Written  by  James  Montgomery  to  com- 
memorate the  death  of  Rev.  John  Owen,  one 
of  the  Secretaries  of  the  British  and  Foreign 
Bible  Society.  The  author  included  it  in  his 
Original  Hymns,  1853,  but  it  was  composed 
in  1823.  The  title  affixed  to  it  was  "  On  the 
Death  of  a  Minister,  cut  ofif  in  his  Useful- 
ness." The  chorus  in  the  music,  "  Servant  of 
Jesus,"  etc.,  is  not  in  the  original  poem.  It 
was  put  in,  most  likely,  by  some  ingenious 
musician  in  order  to  use  the  remaining  strains 
of  the  tune.  It  was  taken  for  Laudes  Domini 
from  the  Reformed  Dutch  collection,  Hymns 
of  the  Church. 

I  i07  "  All  in  Jesus  sleeping." 

Sleep  thy  last  sleep, 

Free  from  care  and  sorrow ; 
Rest,  where  none  weep, 

Till  the  eternal  morrow ; 
Though  dark  waves  roll 

O'er  the  silent  river, 
Thy  fainting  soul 

Jesus  can  deliver. 

2  Life's  dream  is  past, 

All  its  sin,  its  sadness ; 
Brightly  at  last 

Dawns  a  day  of  gladness. 
Under  thy  sod, 

Earth,  receive  our  treasure. 
To  rest  in  God, 

Waiting  all  his  pleasure. 


P.M. 


THE  GENERAL  JUDGMENT. 


467 


3  Though  we  may  mourn 

Those  in  life  the  dearest, 
They  shall  return, 

Christ,  when  thou  appearest ! 
Soon  shall  thy  voice 

Comfort  those  now  weeping, 
Bidding  rejoice 

All  in  Jesus  sleeping. 

This  piece  of  poetry  was  written  by  Rev. 
Edward  Arthur  Dayman,  and  published  in 
the  Sarum  Hymnal,  1868.  It  belongs  with 
the  tune  to  which  it  is  usually  set,  "  Requies- 
cat,"  by  J.  Barnby,  and  then  it  constitutes  an 
interesting  dirge  for  a  funeral  occasion.  The 
meter  is  quaint,  the  sentiment  tender,  and  its 
doctrine  is  as  clear  as  modern  eschatology 
supplies. 


I  1 08  ' '  The  Day  of  the  Lord. ' ' 

Day  of  wrath,  oh,  dreadful  day. 
When  this  world  shall  pass  away. 
And  the  heavens  together  roll, 
Shriv'ling  like  a  parched  scroll, 
Long  foretold  by  saint  and  sage, 
David's  harp,  and  Sibyl's  page. 

2  Day  of  terror,  day  of  doom. 
When  the  Judge  at  last  shall  come  ; 
Through  the  deep  and  silent  gloom, 
Shrouding  every  human  tomb, 
Shall  the  Archangel's  trumpet  tone 
Summon  all  before  the  throne. 

3  Then  shall  nature  stand  aghast. 
Death  himself  be  overcast ; 
Then,  at  her  Creator's  call. 

Near  and  distant,  great  and  small, 
Shall  the  whole  creation  rise 
Waiting  for  the  great  Assize. 

4  Then  the  writing  shall  be  read 
Which  shall  judge  the  quick  and  dead; 
Then  the  Lord  of  all  our  race 

Shall  appoint  to  each  his  place  ; 
Every  wrong  shall  be  set  right. 
Every  secret  brought  to  light. 


When,  in  that  tremendous  day. 
Heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away, 
What  shall  I  the  sinner  say? 
What  shall  be  the  sinner's  stay? 
When  the  righteous  shrinks  for  fear, 
How  shall  my  frail  soul  appear? 

2  King  of  kings,  enthroned  on  high, 
In  thine  awful  majesty, 

Thou  who  of  thy  mercy  free 
Savest  those  who  saved  shall  be : 
In  thy  boundless  charity. 
Fount  of  pity,  save  thou  me. 

3  Oh,  remember.  Saviour  dear. 

What  the  cause  that  brought  thee  here; 
All  thy  long  and  toilsome  way 
Was  for  me  who  went  astray : 
When  that  day  at  last  is  come. 
Call,  oh,  call,  the  wanderer  home. 

4  Thou  in  search  of  me  didst  sit 
Weary  with  the  noonday  heat ; 
Thou  to  save  my  soul  hast  borne 
Cross  and  grief,  and  hate  and  scorn  : 
Oh,  may  all  that  toil  and  pain 

Not  be  wholly  spent  in  vain  ! 

PART   III. 

O  JUST  Judge,  to  whom  belongs 
Vengeance  for  all  earthly  wrongs : 


7S,  61. 


Grant  forgiveness.  Lord,  at  last, 
Ere  the  dread  account  be  past. 
Lo  !  my  sighs,  my  guilt,  my  shame  ! 
Spare  me  for  thine  own  great  name 

2  Thou  who  bad'st  the  sinner  cease 
From  her  tears  and  go  in  peace ; 
Thou  who  to  the  dying  thief 
Speakest  pardon  and  relief; 
Thou,  O  Lord,  to  me  hast  given, 
Ev'n  to  me,  the  hope  of  heaven  ! 

3  Naught  of  thee  my  prayers  can  claim 
Save  in  thy  free  mercy's  name. 
Worthless  is  each  tear  and  cry : 

Yet,  good  Lord,  in  grace  comply  ; 
Spare  me :  cause  me  not  to  go 
Into  everlasting  woe. 

4  Make  me  with  thy  sheep  to  stand, 
Severed  from  the  guilty  band  ; 
When  the  cursed  condemned  shall  be. 
With  the  blest  then  call  thou  me: 
Contrite  in  the  dust,  I  pray. 

Save  me  in  that  awful  aay. 

5  Full  of  tears  and  full  of  dread 
Is  the  day  that  wakes  the  dead, 
Calling  all,  with  solemn  blast. 
From  the  ashes  of  the  past ; 
Lord  of  Mercy,  Jesus  blest. 
Grant  us  thine  eternal  rest. 

Among  the  great  hymns  of  the  Latin  Church 
the  Dies  IrcB  stands  preeminent,  not  only 
because  of  the  grandeur  of  its  theme,  but  also 
from  the  perfection  of  its  form  and  rhythm. 
One  of  the  ablest  English  critics  has  said  of 
it :  "The  meter  so  grandly  devised,  fitted  to 
bring  out  the  noblest  powers  of  the  Latin 
language,  the  solemn  effect  of  the  triple  rhyme 
— like  blow  following  blow  of  the  hammer  on 
the  anvil — the  majestic,  unadorned  plainness 
of  the  style,  these  merits  with  many  more  have 
given  the  Dies  IrcB  a  foremost  place  among 
masterpieces  of  sacred  song."  Its  author, 
Thomas  of  Celano,  was  a  Franciscan  monk, 
born  in  the  small  Italian  town  from  which  he 
took  his  name,  but  the  year  of  his  birth  is  un- 
known. He  was  an  inmate  of  the  famous 
monastery  founded  by  St.  Francis  at  Assisi, 
and  probably  one  of  the  earliest  students  there. 
His  death  is  supposed  to  have  occurred  in 
1255.  The  poem  is  a  portion  of  the  Mass  for 
the  Dead,  and  was  first  found  in  Italian  mis- 
sals of  the  fifteenth  century.  An  evidence  of 
the  wonderful  hold  it  has  exercised  upon  men 
of  many  nations  and  varying  creeds  is  the 
number  of  attempts  to  reproduce  it  in  other 
languages.  In  German  there  have  been  about 
ninety  translations,  and  in  English  more  than 
one  hundred  and  sixty.  The  one  used  here 
is  the  work  of  a  writer  whose  name  is  en- 
deared to  Americans  by  his  friendship  for  their 
country,  as  well  as  by  his  fascinating  books 
on  religious  history.  Rev.  Arthur  Penrhyn 
Stanley,  late  Dean  of  Westminster  Abbey.  It 
was  published  in  its  present  form  in  the  Ap- 
pendix to  Hymns  for  Use  in  the  Chapel  of 
Marlborough  College,  1869. 


468 


THE   GENERAL  JUDGMENT. 


I  I09  "  Behold,  the  Bridegroom  Cometh."         14s. 

Behold,  the  Bridegroom  cometh  in  the  middle  of  the 

night, 
And   blest   is  he  whose  loins  are  girt,   whose  lamp  is 

burning  bright ; 
But  woe  to  that  dull  servant  whom  his  Master  shall 

surprise 
With  lamp  untrimmed,  unburning,  and  with  slumber  in 

his  eyes. 

2  Do  thou,  my  soul,  keep  watch,  beware    lest  thou  in 

sleep  sink  down, 
Lest  thou  be  given  o'er  to  death,  and  lose  the  golden 

crown  ; 
But  see  that  thou  be  sober,  with  a  watchful  eye,  and 

thus 
Cr>' — Holy,  Holy,  Holy  God,  have  mercy  upon  us  ! 

3  That  day,  the  day  of  fear,  shall  come ;  my  soul,  slack 

not  thy  toil, 

But  light  thy  lamp,  and  feed  it  well,  and  make  it  bright 
with  oil ; 

Thou  knowest  not  how  soon  may  sound  the  cry  at  even- 
tide, 

Behold,  the  Bridegroom  comes !  Arise,  he  comes  to 
meet  the  Bride ! 

4  Beware,  my  soul !  take  thou  good  heed,  lest  thou  in 

slumber  lie. 
And,  like  the  five  remain  without,  and  knock  and  vainly 

cry; 
But  watch,  and  bear  thy  lamp  undimmed,  and  Christ 

shall  gird  thee  on 
His  own  bright  wedding-robe  of  light -the  glory  of  the 

Son. 

5  To  thee,  O  Saviour,  now  we  bring  the  tribute  of  our 

praise. 
Too  small  for  thee,  O  Brideg^room  blest,  but  all  that  we 

can  raise : 
All  praise  to  thee,  great  Three  in  One,  the  God  whom 

we  adore, 
As  was,  and  is,  and  shall  be  done,  when  time  shall  be 

no  more. 

This  is  a  translation  by  Rev.  Gerard  Moul- 
trie from  a  hymn  of  the  Greek  Church,  and 
was  first  published  in  Lyra  Messianica,  1864. 
It  has  attained  wide  use  in  America  from  its 
force  and  picturesqueness.  The  original  is 
found  in  the  Horologion,  the  Greek  equivalent 
of  the  Latin  breviary,  and  is  appointed  to  be 
sung  at  the  midnight  office  in  regular  services 
of  the  church.  The  reference  is  to  the  para 
ble  of  the  Ten  Virgins,  especially  to  the  cry, 
Matthew  25  : 6. 

i  I  10         "  They  Shall  Look  on  Him."  8s,  7s,  4s. 

See  the  eternal  Judge  descending! 

View  him  seated  on  his  throne! 
Now,  poor  sinner,  now  lamenting. 

Stand  and  hear  thine  awful  doom  ; 
Trumpets  call  thee, 

Stand  ancl  hear  thine  awful  doom  ! 

2  Hear  the  cries  he  now  is  venting. 
Filled  with  dread  of  fiercer  pain  ; 

While  in  anguish  thus  lamentmg 
That  he  ne'er  was  bom  again — 

Greatly  mourning 
That  he  ne'er  was  bom  ag^in. 

3  "  Yonder  sits  my  slighted  Saviour, 
With  the  marks  of  dying  love ; 

Oh,  that  I  had  sought  his  fevor 
When  I  felt  his  Spirit  move — 

Golden  moments, 
When  I  felt  his  Spirit  move!" 

The  authorship  of  this  hymn  has  remained 


uncertain  for  nearly  a  centurj-,  as  it  was 
printed  anonymously,  in  the  Baltimore  Col- 
lect loti  in  1800.  It  has  been  said  to  suggest 
by  its  style  the  poems  of  Rev.  Thomas 
Kelly,  but  it  cannot  be  found  among  his  col- 
lected works.  Like  most  of  the  Judgment 
hymns  it  was  probably  suggested  by  that 
greatest  of  all  Latin  poems,  the  sequence  of 
Thomas  of  Celano,  Dies  Irce.  There  is 
comfort  in  knowing  that  when  the  Lord  Jesus 
comes,  it  will  be  not  as  a  crucified  Nazarene, 
but  as  the  Son  of  God.  He  will  have  a  glori- 
ous retinue,  and  will  be  known  as  the  King. 
All  over  this  world,  now  for  eighteen  hundred 
years,  millions  of  devout  men  and  brave- 
hearted  women,  together  with  as  many  more 
trustful  little  children,  have  been  praying, 
every  morning  and  night,  "  Thy  kingdom 
come."  That  prayer  will  be  heard  by  and 
by,  when  the  good  time  arrives.  And  who- 
ever is  on  the  Lord's  side  that  day  will  be 
glad  to  meet  him  in  the  splendor  of  his  ad- 
vent. He  will  not  be  put  off  with  a  reed 
scepter  then ;  he  will  not  wear  robes  of 
mockery.  The  Lamb  of  God  will  then  be 
the  Lion  of  Judah  ! 

I  I  I  I  "  Day  of  Wonders.'"  8s,  7s,  4s. 

Day  of  judgment !  day  of  wonders  ; 

Hark ! — the  trumpet's  awful  sound. 
Louder  than  a  thousand  thunders. 

Shakes  the  vast  creation  round  : 
How  the  summons 

Will  the  sinner's  heart  confound  ! 

2  See  the  Judge,  our  nature  wearing. 
Clothed  in  majesty  divine  ! 

You  who  long  for  his  appearing. 
Then  shall  say,  "This  God  is  mine!" 

Gracious  Saviour ! 
Own  me  in  that  day  for  thine. 

3  At  his  call,  the  dead  awaken, 
Rise  to  life  from  earth  and  sea ; 

All  the  powers  of  nature,  shaken 
By  his  looks,  prepare  to  flee : 

Careless  sinner ! 
What  will  then  become  of  thee? 

This  is  one  of  the  most  famous  of  Rev. 
John  Newton's  poems.  It  was  written  in 
1 774,  and  first  printed  in  the  Olney  Hymns, 
1779.  The  inspiration  to  this  work,  which  it 
"  took  him.  the  most  of  two  days  to  finish," 
undoubtedly  came  from  the  Latin  master- 
piece, "  Dies  IrcB,"  but  Newton's  poem  has 
been  called  one  of  the  four  finest  hymns  in 
the  English  language.  Its  central  thought  is 
an  anticipation  of  the  return  of  Christ  to 
judge  the  world. 

1112  Prepare  to  meet  God. 

Great  God,  what  do  I  see  and  hear ! 

The  end  of  things  created  ! 
The  Judge  of  man  I  see  appear. 

On  clouds  of  glory  seated  ; 
The  trumpet  sounds  ;  the  graves  restore 
The  deaa  which  they  contained  before; 

Prepare,  my  soul,  to  meet  him. 


P.  M. 


THE   REST   OF   HEAVEN. 


469 


2  The  dead  in  Christ  shall  first  arise, 
At  the  last  trumpet's  sounding — 

Caught  up  to  meet  him  in  the  skies, 
With  joy  their  Lord  surrounding; 

No  gloomy  fears  their  souls  dismay, 

His  presence  sheds  eternal  day 
On  those  prepared  to  meet  him. 

3  But  sinners,  filled  with  guilty  fears. 
Behold  his  wrath  prevailing; 

For  they  shall  rise,  and  find  their  tears 

And  sighs  are  unavailing; 
The  day  of  grace  is  past  and  gone; 
Trembling  they  stand  before  the  throne. 

All  unprepared  to  meet  him. 

4  Great  God  !  what  do  I  see  and  hear  ! 
The  end  of  things  created  ! 

The  Judge  of  man  I  see  appear. 

On  clouds  of  glory  seated  ; 
Beneath  his  cross  I  view  the  day 
When  heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away, 

And  thus  prepare  to  meet  him. 

It  has  been  said  that  this  hymn  is  based 
upon  the  Dies  Ira,  but  except  for  their  being 
upon  the  same  subject,  the  two  poems  have 
no  connection  with  each  other.  Neither  is  it 
a  fact  that  it  is  the  work  of  Martin  Luther. 
In  a  book  published  in  Sheflield,  England, 
in  1802,  entitled  Psalms  and  Hymns  for 
Public  and  Private  Devotion,  the  opening 
stanza  appears  anonymously  in  its  present 
form.  In  181 2  Rev.  Dr.  William  B.  Collyer 
repeated  this  stanza  in  his  Hymns  partly  Col- 
lected and  partly  Original,  with  three  addi- 
tional verses  by  himself.  These  were  altered 
to  their  present  form  by  Rev.  Thomas  Cotter- 
ill,  compiler  of  the  Selection  of  Psalms  and 
Hymns,  which  was  published  in  the  ninth 
edition  in  1820,  and  had  a  great  effect  on 
modern  collections.  Although  many  compil- 
ers since  that  date  have  introduced  changes, 
the  text  by  Cotterill  has  been  generally 
adopted. 


113  'Into  thine  hand.'''' 

When  my  last  hour  is  close  at  hand. 

My  last  sad  journey  taken, 
Do  thou.  Lord  Jesus  !  by  me  stand  ; 
Let  me  not  be  forsaken  : 

0  Lord !  my  spirit  I  resign 
Into  thy  loving  hands  divine  ; 

'Tis  safe  within  thy  keeping. 

2  Countless  as  sands  upon  the  shore. 
My  sins  may  then  appall  me  ; 

Vet  though  my  conscience  vex  me  sore. 
Despair  shall  not  enthrall  me ; 

For  as  I  draw  my  latest  breath, 

1  '11  think,  Lord  Christ  !  upon  thy  death, 

And  there  find  consolation. 

T,  I  shall  not  in  the  grave  remain, 
Since  thou  death's  bonds  hast  severed  : 

By  hope  with  thee  to  rise  again, 
From  fear  of  death  delivered, 

I  '11  come  to  thee,  where'er  thou  art — 

Live  with  thee,  from  thee  never  part : 
Therefore  I  die  in  rapture. 

4  And  so  to  Jesus  Christ  I  '11  go. 
My  longing  arms  extending  ; 

So  fall  asleep,  in  slumber  deep. 
Slumber  that  knows  no  ending; 

Till  Jesus  Christ,  God's  only  Son, 

Opens  the  gates  of  bliss,  leads  on 
To  heaven,  to  life  eternal. 


Edgar  Alfred  Bowring,  translator  of  this 
hymn,  was  born  in  1826,  and  entered  politi- 
cal life,  being  M.  P.  for  Exeter  in  1868.  He 
published  in  1858  The  Most  Holy  Book  of 
Psalms,  literally  rendered  into  English 
verse,  and  is  said  to  have  translated  two 
volumes  of  German  hymns,  selected  by  the 
Queen  and  privately  printed  for  her  own  use. 
The  original  of  this  poem  is  the  work  of 
Nicolaus  Hermann,  an  organist  and  choir- 
master in  the  church  at  Joachimsthal,  Bohe- 
mia, who  died  in  1561,  leaving  as  a  legacy 
many  beautiful  hymns.  They  were  caught 
up  by  the  people  all  over  Germany,  and  no 
one  is  more  widely  used  than  this  prayer  for 
the  dying.  Among  the  English-speaking 
churches  it  is  associated  with  the  funeral  of 
Albert,  the  Prince  Consort,  in  St.  George's 
Chapel,  Windsor,  December  23,  1861  ;  this 
translation  having  been  made  at  the  Queen's 
request  and  sung  on  that  occasion. 


1114  "No  night  there."  S.  M.  D. 

There  is  no  night  in  heaven  ; 

In  that  blest  world  above 
Work  never  can  bring  weariness, 

For  work  itself  is  love. 
There  is  no  grief  in  heaven  ; 

For  life  is  one  glad  day, 
And  tears  are  of  those  former  things 

Which  all  have  passed  away. 

2  There  is  no  want  in  heaven  ; 
The  Lamb  of  God  supplies 

Life's  tree  of  twelve-fold  fruitage  still, 
Life's  spring  which  never  dries. 

There  is  no  sin  in  heaven  ; 
Behold  that  blessed  throng ! 

All  holy  is  their  spotless  robe. 
All  holy  is  their  song. 

3  There  is  no  death  in  heaven  ; 
For  they  who  gain  that  shore 

P.  M.  Have  won  their  immortality. 

And  they  can  die  no  more. 
There  is  no  death  in  heaven  ; 

But  when  the  Christian  dies. 
The  angels  wait  his  parted  soul, 

And  waft  it  to  the  skies  ! 

Rev.  Francis  Minden  Knollis,  D.  D.,  son  of 
an  Episcopal  clergyman,  was  born  Novem- 
ber 14,  1 8 16,  at  Penn,  Bucks,  England,  and 
educated  at  Oxford.  He  took  Holy  Orders  in 
1838,  and  was  Fellow  of  Magdalen,  and  In- 
cumbent of  Fitzhead.  He  died  at  Bourne- 
mouth, August  25,  1863.  Dr.  Knollis  was 
the  author  of  a  number  of  poetical  works ; 
but  of  his  hymns  only  the  one  given  here  has 
attained  wide  usefulness.  It  was  published 
in  1859,  in  Rutherford's  Lays  of  the  Sanctu- 
ary, and  other  Poems,  its  subject  being, 
*'  Heaven  and  its  Blessedness,"  its  activity 
without  weariness.  It  is  well  to  be  reminded 
now  and  then  that  even  the  "  rest "  which 
"  remaineth "  is  not  a  repose  of  indolent 
listlessness  and  inaction.     The  Hindus    be- 


470 


THE  REST   OF   HEAVEN. 


lieve  that  the  great  god  Brahma  spends 
the  infinite  ages  of  his  eternity  evermore 
asleep.  And  their  most  exalted  notions  of 
the  state  of  the  blessed  are  only  clustered 
around  one  lazy  anticipation  of  sharing  the 
slumbers  of  this  deified  sluggard.  But  our 
Bible  tells  us  that  the  "  works  "  of  the  right- 
eous do  "follow  them."  Our  trouble  here 
is,  not  the  energy  we  put  forth,  but  the  waste 
of  it  and  the  thwarting  of  it  and  the  needless- 
ness  of  much  of  it.  It  is  not  work,  but 
worry,  that  breaks  the  human  heart ;  and  in 
heaven  there  will  be  work  without  worry. 
"  Therefore  are  they  before  the  throne  of  God, 
and  they  serve  him  day  and  night  in  his 
temple."  So  the  Christian's  departure  is 
only  a  sign  of  relief.  "  Children,"  said  John 
Wesley's  mother,  "  when  I  am  released,  sing 
a  psalm  of  praise  to  God  !  " 


hend  what  was  taking  place  within  us.  But 
now,  in  looking  back  to  the  by-gone  years, 
we  cannot  but  feel  that  silently,  and  by  slow 
degrees,  our  inward  life  has  taken  a  deep 
meaning,  a  more  spiritual  tone  and  habit. 
The  great  and  precious  promises  have  become 
more  real — our  personal  contact  with  Christ, 
and  access  to  his  heart,  more  full  and  satis- 
fying— than  they  were  wont  to  be.  The  in- 
dwelling of  the  Holy  Comforter,  and  the 
open  vision  of  God  by  faith,  have  made  us 
much  less  restless,  less  anxious  to  choose  for 
ourselves,  more  desirous  that  Christ  should 
choose  for  us  in  all  things.  Has  it  not  been 
so  ?  This  seems  to  be  the  natural  result  of 
spiritual  progress  :  harmony  of  will  with  God, 
personal  companionship  and  sympathy,  and 
so  divine  rest  in  him." 


1115  ■^"^ '« Heaven.  S.  M. 

And  is  there.  Lord,  a  rest 

For  wear>-  souls  designed, 
Wfiere  not  a  care  shall  stir  the  breast. 

Or  sorrow  entrance  find? 

2  Is  there  a  blissful  home, 
Where  kindred  minds  shall  meet, 

And  live,  and  love,  nor  ever  roam 
From  that  serene  retreat? 

3  Are  there  celestial  streams. 
Where  living  waters  glide. 

With  murmurs  sweet  as  angel  dreams, 
And  flowery  banks  beside  ? 

4  For  ever  blessed  they 
Whose  joyful  feet  shall  stand, 

While  endless  ages  waste  away, 
Amid  that  glorious  land ! 

5  My  soul  would  thither  tend, 
While  toilsome  years  are  given ; 

Then  let  me,  gracious  God,  ascend 
To  sweet  repose  in  heaven ! 

Written  by  Dr.  Ray  Palmer  at  Bath,  Me., 
in  1843,  and  printed  in  Parish  Hymns  in  the 
same  year.  Even  then  this  spiritually-minded 
man  had  begun  to  look  forward  through  his  1117 
long  and  laborious  ministry  and  talk  of  the 
welcomeness  of  rest  in  heaven.  He  knew 
what  the  "  toilsome  years "  of  preparation 
meant,  and  he  expected  "  care  "  and  "  sor- 
row." But  out  of  this  would  grow  the  man- 
hood and  strength  he  hoped  to  attain.  The 
rule,  from  which  there  seems  to  have  been 
almost  a  prohibition  of  release,  is  that  power 
for  good  comes  from  the  endurance  of  pain. 
Dr.  Palmer  once  wrote  these  interesting  words 
to  a  friend :  "  Have  not  the  sorrows  of  life, 
my  dear  friend,  consciously  enriched  and 
sweetened  your  spiritual  life  in  all  the  past  .-• 
It  seems  to  me  that  this  has  clearly  been  my 
own  experience.  We  have  neither  of  us  been 
able,  perhaps,  at  the  time  when  the  deep 
waters  were  going  over  our  souls,  to  compre- 


1116  "  Rye  hath  not  seen."  L.  M. 

Now  let  our  souls,  on  win^s  sublime. 
Rise  from  the  vanities  of  tune, 
Draw  back  the  parting  vail,  and  see 
The  glories  of  eternity. 

2  Born  by  a  new  celestial  birth, 
Why  should  we  grovel  here  on  earth? 
Why  grasp  at  transitory  toys, 
So  near  to  heaven's  eternal  joys? 

3  Should  aught  beg:uile  us  on  the  road. 
When  we  are  walknig  back  to  God  ? 
For  strangers  into  lite  we  come. 
And  dying  is  but  going  home. 

4  To  dwell  with  God — to  feel  his  love — 
Is  the  full  heaven  enjoyed  above; 
And  the  sweet  expectation  now 
Is  the  young  dawn  of  heaven  below. 

Rev.  Thomas  Gibbons,  D.  D.,  wrote  this 
hymn,  putting  it  at  the  close  of  one  of  the 
fifteen  Sermons  on  Various  Subjects,  1762. 
It  was  entitled  "  The  Return  of  the  Body  to 
Earth,  and  the  Return  of  the  Soul  to  God," 
the  text  of  the  discourse  being  found  in  Eccle- 
siastes  12:7. 


"A  Rest."  P.M. 

Lord,  thou  wilt  bring  the  joyful  day ! 

Beyond  earth's  weariness  and  pains, 
Thou  hast  a  mansion  far  away, 

Where  for  thine  own  a  rest  remains. 

2  No  sun  there  climbs  the  morning  sky, 
There  never  falls  the  shade  of  night ; 

God  and  the  Lamb,  for  ever  nigh. 
O'er  all  shed  everlasting  light. 

3  The  bow  of  mercy  spans  the  throne. 
Emblem  of  love  anci  goodness  there  ; 

While  notes  to  mortals  all  unknown 
Float  on  the  calm  celestial  air. 

4  Around  that  throne  bright  legions  stand, 
Redeemed  by  blood  from  sin  and  hell ; 

And  shining  forms,  an  angel  band. 
The  mighty  chorus  join  to  swell. 

5  O  Jesus,  bring  us  to  that  rest, 
Where  all  the  ransomed  shall  be  found. 

In  thine  eternal  fullness  blest, 
While  ages  roll  their  cycles  round ! 


THE   REST  OF   HEAVEN. 


471 


This  hymn  came  to  us  in  manuscript,  and 
was  first  published  in  Songs  for  the  Sanctu- 
ary, 1865.  Dr.  Ray  Palmer  wrote  it  while  he 
was  temporarily  in  New  York  city  in  1864. 
An  allusion  is  made  to  John  14:2:  "In  my 
Father's  house  are  many  mansions."  Dr.  A. 
O.  Van  Lennep,  so  many  years  a  resident  in 
Turkey,  says  the  finest  of  all  the  palaces  he 
knew  is  that  of  "  Beyler  Bey,"  the  residence  of 
the  present  Sultan.  His  description  is  full  of 
interest :  "  It  is  of  pure  white  marble,  sur- 
mounted with  gilded  domes,  the  whole  pro- 
ducing a  most  gorgeous  effect  in  the  rays  of 
the  sun.  It  is  built  on  the  edge  of  the  waters 
of  the  Bosphorus,  in  full  view  of  steamers  and 
vessels  passing  up  and  down  the  stream ; 
while  the  great  numbers  of  row-boats  (caicks) 
going  to  the  crowded  suburbs  lining  the  Bos- 
phorus are  constantly  passing  close  by  it. 
The  interior  is  fitted  out  in  truly  Oriental 
splendor.  When  in  Constantinople,  my  resi- 
dence was  in  the  village  of  Bebeck,  and  I  had  to 
pass  the  palace  every  day  in  my  caick  in  going 
to  my  place  of  business.  This  beautiful  and 
vast  building  often  reminded  me  of  the  words 
of  the  Saviour,  and  gave  to  them  a  meaning 
which  I  never  understood  before.  '  In  my 
Father's  house  are  many  mansions.'  Yes ! 
room  and  an  abundance  of  it  for  all  the  chil- 
dren of  God  ;  and,  oh,  what  splendor  in 
heaven !  Again,  no  visitor  or  guest  is  ever 
admitted  in  the  palace  without  previous  per- 
mission, and  then  he  must  be  introduced  by 
different  attendants  according  to  his  rank. 
Ambassadors  from  great  foreign  nations  are 
introduced  with  pomp,  but  the  son  of  the 
Sultan  never  introduces  any  but  princes  and 
persons  of  the  royal  blood.  But  Christ  says 
to  all  his  disciples, '  I  go  to  prepare  a  place  for 
you.'  The  Son  (not  the  servant)  going  to  his 
own  Father's  house,  and  he  will  introduce  his 
disciples  himself  to  these  heavenly  mansions. 
What  condescension  !  What  love  !  How  pre- 
cious to  all  believers  !  " 


I  I  18 


"  Many  mansions." 


L.  M. 


Thy  Father's  house!  thine  own  bright  home! 

And  thou  hast  there  a  place  for  me! 
Though  yet  an  exile  here  I  roam. 

That  distant  home  by  faith  I  see. 

2  I  see  its  domes  resplendent  glow, 
Where  beams  of  God's  own  glory  fall; 

And  trees  of  life  immortal  grow, 
Whose  fruits  o'erhang  the  sapphire  wall. 

3  I  know  that  thou,  who  on  the  tree 
Didst  deign  our  mortal  guilt  to  bear. 

Wilt  bring  thine  own  to  dwell  with  thee, 
And  waitest  to  receive  me  there ! 

4  Thy  love  will  there  array  my  soul 
In  thine  own  robe  of  spotless  hue; 

And  I  shall  gaze  while  ages  roll, 
On  thee,  with  raptures  ever  new ! 


5  Oh,  welcome  day !  when  thou  mv  feet 
Shall  bring  the  shining  threshold  o'er: 

A  Father's  warm  embrace  to  meet, 
And  dwell  at  home  for  evermore  ! 

Another  of  Dr.  Ray  Palmer's  hymns  on 
heaven.  It  was  published  first  in  the  Sabbath 
Hymn-Book,  1858.  With  it  he  coupled  the 
familiar  verse,  John  14:3,  as  its  Scriptural 
basis,  and  he  has  reckoned  the  date  of  its 
composition  as  early  as  1854.  This  enthusi- 
astic poet  was  in  the  habit  of  repeating  re- 
ligious poetry  at  the  bedside  of  invalids, 
instead  of  seeking  to  hold  wearying  conver- 
sations with  them.  There  is  a  manifest  ad- 
vantage in  this,  for  generally  it  does  little 
more  than  remind  the  one  who  is  feeble  of 
what  he  really  knew  before ;  and  with  the  aid 
of  the  rhyme,  and  more  often  the  meter,  he 
can  follow  the  line  of  thinking  easily.  And 
everybody  knows  that  in  the  hymns  of  every 
language  can  be  found  the  best  theology  and 
highest  spirituality  of  the  evangelical  people 
who  speak  it ;  and  so  one  of  the  wisest  coun- 
sels to  a  young  clergyman  is  that  he  commit 
such  to  memory.  This  particular  piece  was, 
with  the  author,  a  favorite  in  such  exercises. 
One  who  knew  him  can  readily  imagine  with 
what  grace  and  impressiveness  his  musical 
voice  would  make  its  measures  to  sound. 
There  is  a  glorious  reach  in  the  figure,  which 
fills  the  soul  to  the  full.  What  is  all  this  life 
of  ours  but  a  mere  wrestle  at  the  side  of  a 
mighty  stream,  just  beyond  which  waits  the 
flashing  sunrise  of  triumph  to  the  trusted  and 
the  true  }  John,  the  beloved  disciple,  believed 
he  looked  upon  one  of  the  fairest  sights  of 
heaven :  "  And  I  saw  an  angel  standing  in 
the  sun  /"  But  there  will  be  even  finer  things 
to  see  than  that  in  the  halls  of  victory,  in  the 
palace  of  God.  When  the  fierce  wrestle  is 
over,  and  the  triumph  is  reached,  there  on 
the  other  side  of  the  mysterious  stream  will 
stand  any  princely  prevailer  who  fought  the 
good  fight  and  kept  the  faith.  Away  from 
him  sinks  all  that  is  earthly.  On  his  form 
rests  the  shining  of  the  Sun  of  righteousness. 
Oh,  the  splendor  of  that  purity  and  peace  that 
lights  his  face,  as  they  swing  open  the  beauti- 
ful gates  and  bid  him  enter  his  Father's 
house,  at  the  Father's  invitation  ! 

1119  "Lord,  tarry  not."  P.  M. 

Beyond  the  smiling  and  the  weeping,  | 

I  shall  be  soon  ;  || 
Beyond  the  waking  and  the  sleeping.  | 
Beyond  the  sowing  and  the  reapmg,  ) 

I  shall  be  soon.  || 
Ref. — Love,  rest,  and  home!    Sweet  home! 

Lord,  tarry  not,  but  come. 

2  Beyond  the  blooming  and  the  fading,  | 

I  shall  be  soon ;  fl 
Beyond  the  shining  and  the  shading,  | 
Beyond  the  hoping  and  the  dreading,  | 

I  shall  be  soon.  11 — Ref. 


472 


THE   REST   OF    HEAVEN. 


3  Beyond  the  rising  and  the  setting,  | 

I  shall  be  soon  ;  || 
Beyond  the  calming  and  the  fretting,  I 
Beyond  remembering  and  forgetting,  ) 

I  shall  be  soon.  || — Ref. 

4  Beyond  the  parting  and  the  meeting,  | 

I  shall  be  soon ;  || 
Beyond  the  farewell  and  the  greeting,  | 
Beyond  the  pulse's  fever  beating,  | 

I  shall  be  soon.  | — Ref. 

5  Beyond  the  frost-chain  and  the  fever,  | 

I  shall  be  soon  ;  | 
Beyond  the  rock-waste  and  the  river,  | 
Beyond  the  ever  and  the  never,  | 

I  shall  be  soon.  | — Ref. 

In  the  Hymns  of  Faith  and  Hope,  by  Rev. 
Dr.  Horatius  Bonar,  1857,  this  well-known 
poem  first  appeared,  bearing  the  title, "  Heaven 
Anticipated."  It  has  owed  much  of  its  pop- 
ularity to  its  unusual  rhythm  and  the  beauty 
of  the  refrain.  The  hymn  leads  us  to  the 
conclusion  that  life  is  a  melancholy  affair  if 
left  to  itself,  but  the  sure  hope  of  redemption 
illumines  the  outlook.  So,  in  the  catacombs 
underneath  Rome,  on  one  side  of  the  devious 
paths  the  inscriptions  on  the  heathen's  tombs 
are  sad  and  desponding,  while  on  the  other 
side,  where  the  Christians  are  buried,  they  are 
bright  and  full  of  hope.  Death  is  not  the 
end  ;  the  sense  of  despair  vields  to  the  blessed 
certainty  of  a  happy  immortality.  We  shall 
find  our  old  friends  in  heaven  ;  we  shall  know 
them  when  we  see  them.  The  new  life  will 
be  occupied  partly  in  "  knitting  severed  friend- 
ships up."  And  as  for  that  awful  dread  of 
divine  justice,  it  will  be  displaced  by  a  won- 
derful peace ;  for  we  can  rest  implicitly  in 
God's  justice  when  Jesus  the  Saviour  stands 
by,  with  the  sure  pardon  in  his  hands ! 

It  is  according  to  one's  hearty  confidence 
in  receiving  this  information  that  he  will  look 
forward  toward  the  inevitable  crisis.  I  some- 
times think  that  people  will  enter  heaven  as 
the  miscellaneous  vessels  enter  New  York 
Bay  through  the  Narrows.  Some  will  actually 
have  to  be  tugged  in  by  the  violent  faith  and 
prayer  of  others,  who  will  be  at  hand  to  help 
their  feebleness  as  Christiana  helped  Ready- 
to-Halt.  Some  will  come  in  slowly  and  un- 
decidedly, as  if  they  dared  to  put  up  only  a 
sail  or  two,  and  the  wind  was  uncertain.  But 
there  will  be  many  proud,  glad  ships,  with 
all  their  spars  covered  with  white  canvas.  To 
them  will  be  "  an  entrance  ministered  abun- 
dantly into  the  everlasting  kingdom  of  our 
Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ." 

I  1 20  "  Imtnanuers  Land."  P.  M. 

The  sands  of  time  are  sinking ; 

The  dawn  of  heaven  breaks ; 
The  summer  morn  I  've  sighed  for. 

The  lair,  sweet  mom,  awakes. 


Dark,  dark  hath  been  the  midnight ; 

But  dayspring  is  at  hand. 
And  glory — glory  dwelleth 

In  Immanuel's  land. 

2  O  Christ !  he  is  the  fountain. 
The  deep,  sweet  well  of  love ; 

The  streams  on  earth  I  've  tasted, 

More  deep  I  '11  drink  above; 
There  to  an  ocean  fullness 

His  mercy  doth  expand, 
And  glory — glory  dwelleth 

In  Immanuel's  land. 

3  With  mercy  and  with  judgment 
My  web  of  time  he  wove. 

And  aye  the  dews  of  sorrow 

Were  lustered  by  his  love; 
I  '11  bless  the  hand  that  guided, 

I  '11  bless  the  heart  that  planned. 
When  throned  where  glory  dwelleth. 

In  Immanuel's  land. 

This  is  a  part  of  the  same  poem  to  which 
allusion  has  been  made  (Hymn  1021)  already. 
Mrs.  Anne  Ross  Cousin  wrote  the  small  po- 
etic tractlet  called,  "  The  Last  Words  of 
Samuel  Rutherford." 

Out  of  this  exquisite  piece  of  poetry  have 
been  compiled  two  very  acceptable  hymns. 
The  refrain  is  what  gives  the  title  to  each ; 
and  this  was  the  exclamation  of  the  dying 
man,  as  it  has  been  recorded  for  more  than 
two  hundred  years  in  the  annals  of  Scotland. 
At  the  sinking  of  the  sun,  late  in  the  after- 
noon of  the  final  day  of  his  life,  one  of  his 
friends,  standing  beside  the  couch,  asked  him, 
"  What  think  ye  now  of  Christ .'"  To  that  this 
"  true  saint  of  the  covenant "  replied  thus : 
"  Oh,  that  all  my  brethren  in  the  land  may 
know  what  a  Master  I  have  ser\ed,  and  what 
peace  I  have  this  day !  I  shall  sleep  in  Christ, 
and  when  I  awake,  I  shall  be  satisfied  with 
his  likeness.  This  night  shall  close  the  door, 
and  put  my  anchor  within  the  vail ;  and  I 
shall  go  away  in  a  sleep  by  five  of  the  clock 
in  the  morning.  Glory  I  glory  to  my  Creator 
and  my  Redeemer  for  ever  !  I  shall  live  and 
adore  him.  Oh,  for  arms  to  embrace  him  ! 
Oh,  for  a  well-tuned  harp  !  Glory  I  glory 
dwelleth  in  Immanuel's  land  !"  The  predic- 
tion concerning  his  departure  was  fulfilled 
exactly,  and  these  telling  and  intense  expres- 
sions of  the  dying  saint,  with  a  few  others 
like  them,  were  wrought  skillfully  into  the 
poem. 

"  Ev'n  Anworth  was  not  heaven — ev'n  preaching  was  not 

Christ ; 
And  in  my  sea-beat  prison,  my  Lord  and  I  held  tryst ; 
And  aye  my  murkiest  storm-cloud  was  by  a  rainbow 

spanned. 
Caught  from  the  glory  dwelling — in  Immanuel's  land. 

"  The  little  birds  at  .\nworth,  I  used  to  count  them  blest ; 
Now,  beside  happier  altars,  I  go  to  build  my  nest ; 
O'er  these  there  broods  no  silence,  no  graves  around 

them  stand ; 
For  glory,  deathless,  dwelleth — in  Immanuel's  land. 


THE   REST   OF   HEAVEN. 


475 


"Fair  Anworth  bythe  Solway,  to  nie  thou  still  art  dear! 
Ev'u  from  the  verge  of  heaven  I  drop  for  thee  a  tear. 
Oh,  if  one  soul  from  Anworth  meet  nie  at  God's  right 

hand, 
My  heaven  will  be  two  heavens — in  Immanuel's  land." 

A  short  time  previous  to  this  he  broke  out 
into  a  sort  of  sacred  rapture,  exalting  and 
commending  the  Lord  Jesus  as  his  blessed 
Master,  calling  him  his  "  kingly  King."  He 
cried :  "  I  shall  shine — I  shall  see  him  as  he 
is ;  I  shall  see  him  reign,  and  all  his  fair  com- 
pany with  him,  and  I  shall  have  my  large 
share.  Mine  eyes  shall  behold  my  Redeemer — 
these  very  eyes  of  mine,  and  none  other  for 
me.  This  may  seem  a  wide  word,  but  it  is  no 
fancy  or  delusion  ;  it  is  true.  Let  my  Lord's 
name  be  exalted  ;  and,  if  he  will,  let  my  name 
be  grinded  to  pieces,  that  he  may  be  all  in  all. 
If  he  slay  me  ten  thousand  times,  I  will  trust." 
He  died  March  20,  1661. 


1121  "-^o  more  death."  C.  M.  5I. 

There  is  an  hour  of  peaceful  rest. 

To  mourning  wanderers  given  ; 

There  is  a  joy  for  souls  distressed  ; 

A  balm  for  every  wounded  breast : 

'T  is  found  above — in  heaven. 

2  There  is  a  home  for  weary  souls. 
By  sin  and  sorrow  driven. 

When  tossed  on  life's  tempestuous  shoals. 
Where  storms  arise,  and  ocean  rolls. 
And  all  is  drear — but  heaven. 

3  There  faith  lifts  up  her  cheerful  eye 
To  brighter  prospects  given  ; 

And  views  the  tempest  passing  by. 
The  evening  shadows  quickly  fly, 
And  all  serene — in  heaven. 

4  There  fragrant  flowers  immortal  bloom, 
And  joys  supreme  are  given  ; 

There  rays  divine  disperse  the  gloom  ; 
Beyond  the  confines  of  the  tomb 
Appears  the  dawn  of  heaven  ! 

This  piece  has  long  been  a  favorite  in  the 
American  churches.  It  was  composed  by 
Rev.  William  Bingham  Tappan,  so  long  the 
superintendent  of  the  American  Sunday- 
School  Union.  In  a  volume  called  Gems  of 
Sacred  Poetry,  1 860,  he  says  of  this  hymn  : 
"  It  was  written  by  me  in  Philadelphia,  in  the 
summer  of  181 8,  for  the  Franklin  Gazette, 
edited  by  Richard  Bache,  Esq.,  and  was  in- 
troduced by  him  to  the  public  in  terms  suffi- 
ciently flattering  to  a  young  man  who  then 
certainly  lacked  confidence  in  himself.  The 
piece  was  republished  in  England  and  on  the 
Continent,  in  various  newspapers  and  maga- 
zines, and  was  also  extensively  circulated  in 
my  own  native  land,  where  it  has  found  a 
place  in  several  hymn  and  music-books.  It 
was  published  in  my  first  volume  of  Poems, 
at  Philadelphia,  in  1819,  and  soon  after  was  i  '23 
set  to  music  by  A.  P.  Heinrich,  Esq.,  in  the 
same  city."  It  is  in  Lyra  Sacra  Americana, 
1868. 


I  122  "  Darkness  conieth  never  "  7s,  6s.  D. 

Oh,  land  relieved  from  sorrow  ! 

Oh,  land  secure  from  tears  ! 
Oh,  respite  on  the  morrow 

From  all  the  toil  of  years  ! 
To  thee  we  hasten  ever, 

To  thee  our  steps  ascend, 
Where  darkness  cometh  never. 

And  joy  shall  never  end. 

2  Oh  happy,  holy  portal 
For  God's  own  blest  elect : 

Oh,  region,  pure,  immortal, 

With  better  spring  bedecked : 
Thy  pearly  doors  for  ever 

Their  welcome  shall  extend. 
Where  darkness  cometh  never, 

And  joy  shall  never  end. 

3  Oh,  home  where  God  the  Father 
Takes  all  his  children  in  : 

Where  Christ  the  Son  shall  gather 

The  sinners  saved  from  sin  ; 
No  ni^ht  nor  fear  shall  sever 

A  friend  from  any  friend. 
For  darkness  cometh  never. 

And  joy  shall  never  end. 

4  Rise,  then,  O  brightest  morning! 
Come,  then,  triumphant  day  ! 

When  into  new  adorning 

We  change  and  pass  away : 
For  so  with  firm  endeavor 

Our  spirits  gladly  tend 
Where  darkness  cometh  never. 

And  joy  shall  never  end. 

Rev.  Samuel  Wiiloughby  Duffield  wrote 
this  piece.  He  had  a  keen  sense  of  the 
sweetness  of  sound  and  the  agreeableness 
of  true  rhythm.  And  then  he  was  a  sincere 
Christian  ;  and  was  going  to  die  young,  though 
he  did  not  know  that.  He  loved  home,  and  he 
loved  heaven.  This  piece  voiced  his  nature 
well.  In  his  English  Hymns,  1888,  he  has 
given  his  own  account  of  its  composition : 
"  This  IS  an  original  hymn,  composed  in  1875 
under  circumstances  peculiarly  calculated  to 
draw  the  thought  to  things  above.  It  has  ex- 
isted in  manuscript,  unpublished,  until  the 
preparation  of  Landcs  Dojnini  called  it  out. 
The  first  draft  of  the  hymn  is  on  two  crum- 
pled pieces  of  paper  which  have  been  several 
times  cast  aside  and  nearly  destroyed ;  but 
they  have  mysteriously  reappeared,  even  from 
the  depths  of  waste-paper  baskets  and  the 
wild  confusion  of  disintegrated  material  f 
The  refrain  really  produced  the  hymn.  Per- 
haps it  grew  up,  primarily,  from  the  rhythm  of 
Bernard  of  Cluny,  which  the  author  has  al- 
ways loved,  and  the  cento  from  which  he 
rendered,  in  its  original  meter,  in  1868.  The 
'  Heimiveh  ' — the  heavenly  longing — has  many 
hymns  besides  this  which  express  it." 


"Mighty  to  Save."  7s, 6s-  D. 

He  comes  in  blood-stained  garments ; 

Upon  his  brow  a  crown  ; 
The  gates  of  brass  fly  open. 

The  iron  bands  drop  down ; 


474 


THE   REST   OF   HEAVEN. 


From  off  the  fettered  captive 

The  chains  of  Satan  fall, 
While  angels  shout  triumphant, 

That  Christ  is  Lord  of  all. 

2  Oh,  Christ,  his  love  is  mighty ! 

Long-suffering  is  his  grace  : 
And  glorious  is  the  splendor 

That  beameth  from  his  face. 
Our  hearts  up-leap  in  gladness 

When  we  behold  that  love, 
As  we  go  sinking  onward 

To  dwell  with  him  above. 

In  the  Lyra  Britannica,  1867,  this  hymn 
by  Mrs.  Charitie  Lees  Bancroft  first  ap- 
peared, its  form  being  seven  stanzas  of  eight 
lines  each.  It  has  been  considerably  abbre- 
viated to  fit  it  for  common  use,  the  present 
cento  beginning  with  the  third  verse.  Thus 
it  becomes  a  spirited  lyric,  which  anticipates 
with  joyous  triumph  the  end  of  life,  and  the 
vision  of  Christ  in  glory  which  will  burst 
upon  the  believer  on  his  entrance  into  a  higher 
world.  But  now  comes  the  interruption — do 
not  many  men,  who  are  not  at  all  ready  in 
any  Christian  sense  to  die,  seem  to  make  a 
most  dignified  and  courageous  departure .'' 
Yes — Mirabeau,  in  the  last  languor  of  his 
feebleness,  is  obser\-ed  to  hush  that  tremen- 
dous voice  of  his,  just  to  sigh  softly  to  the 
attendants,  "  Let  me  die  to  the  sound  of  de- 
licious music  !  "  Nelson  at  Trafalgar,  when 
the  last  pulse  of  living  energy  is  welling  up, 
is  heard  to  say  grandly,  "  Now  for  a  peerage 
or  Westminster  Abbey ! "  And  even  the 
great  Ceesar,  looking  only  to  his  own  robes, 
and  folding  them  with  care  about  his  person, 
is  recorded  to  have  died  with  dignity,  as  an 
immortal  Roman  should.  This  is  admitted: 
thus  the  world's  heroes  and  statesmen  and 
monarchs  are  sometimes  found  at  the  final 
hour,  looking  far  and  looking  near.  But  no 
one  of  them,  save  here  and  there  a  believer  in 
Christ,  do  we  discover  looking  where  Stephen 
looked,  or  seeing  what  Stephen  saw.  That 
blessed  vision  is  not  unvailed.    Acts  7:55,  56. 


I  I  24  "  O  Paradise." 

O  Paradise  !  O  Paradise! 

Who  doth  not  crave  for  rest  ? 
Who  would  not  seek  the  happy  land 

Where  they  that  loved  are  blest? 

Ref.— Where  loyal  hearts  and  true 
Stand  ever  in  the  light. 
All  rapture  through  and  through. 
In  God's  most  holy  sight. 

2  O  Paradise !  O  Paradise ! 
The  world  is  growing  old  ; 

Who  would  not  be  at  rest  and  free 
Where  love  is  never  cold  ? — Ref. 

3  O  Paradise!  O  Paradise! 
I  greatly  long  to  see 

The  special  place  my  dearest  Lord 
In  love  prepares  for  me. — Ref. 


P.  M. 


4  Lord  Jesus,  King  of  Paradise, 

Oh,  keep  me  in  thy  love, 
And  guide  me  to  that  happy  land 

Of  perfect  rest  above  ! 

Ref. — Where  loyal  hearts  and  true 
Stand  ever  in  the  light, 
All  rapture  through  and  through. 
In  God's  most  holy  sight. 

This  is  perhaps  out  of  the  best  loved  of  all 
the  poems  by  Dr.  Frederick  William  Faber, 
whose  many  fine  compositions  have  given  him 
so  high  a  place  in  the  affection  of  Christians. 
It  appeared  first  in  his  collected  Hymns,  1862, 
having  originally  seven  stanzas  with  the  re- 
frain. It  puts  into  words  the  longing  of  the 
soul  for  its  true  home,  far  from  the  strife  and 
bitterness  and  disappointment  of  this  every- 
day life.  So  the  traditions  of  human  history 
have  kept  the  hopes  of  men,  ill  and  weak  and 
miserable,  alive.  There  must  be  somewhere 
'on  this  planet  of  ours  a  home  for  the  soul, 
tired  with  wrestling,  fatigued  with  fight.  Call 
it  the  "  field  "  of  Avalon,  the  "  beautiful  vale  " 
of  Tempe,  the  "Hill  of  the  Serene;"  always 
the  same,  it  meant  a  locality,  outside  of  the 
roar  and  the  rush,  the  anguish  and  the  tur- 
moil, of  time  and  toiling,  in  which  one  could 
find  peace  at  last,  where  weapons  were  not 
tearing  one's  nerves  to  pieces  with  clashing, 
and  horns  could  hang  contented  on  the  walls 
with  no  challenge  to  make  for  any  more  war. 

But  it  all  meant  nothing ;  the  rude  world 
rolled  along,  and  rough  gibes  of  ridicule  and 
rougher  oaths  of  cursing  were  hurled  against 
the  man  who  would  not  laugh  with  the  rest, 
and,  when  disgusted,  swear  as  other  disgusted 
people  did,  and  so  soothe  his  feelings  in  the 
hard  pressures  of  wrath  and  pain. 

Well,  then,  if  no  better  spot,  surely  one  can 
find  a  breathing-time  of  release  now  and  then  ! 
So  bright  minds  went  a  step  further  down 
into  the  regions  of  fable.  They  talked  about 
halcyon  days  and  related  a  tender  little  story 
about  a  daughter  of  ^olus,  whose  husband  was 
drowned  in  a  cruel  sea ;  when  the  body  was 
washed  upon  the  shore  next  day  this  bereaved 
widow  clung  to  it,  and  was  drifted  back  with 
it  into  the  same  waves  and  strangled  in  the 
same  embrace.  To  reward  their  pitiable  affec- 
tion, the  gods  metamorphosed  them  both  into 
kingfishers  and  changed  the  name  of  the  birds 
into  Halcyons,  and  afterward  decreed  that 
all  oceans  should  for  ever  remain  calm  while 
these  devoted  creatures  built  their  nests  di- 
rectly on  the  water.  Thus  men  had  fourteen 
days  called  "  halcyon  days,"  in  which  vessels 
were  never  even  tossed  on  the  billows  of  the 
unresting  sea ;  seven  days  just  before  the 
winter-solstice,  in  which  the  kingfishers  built 
their  nests,  and  other  seven  days  just  after,  in 


THE   REST   OF   HEAVEN. 


475 


which  the  birds  laid  their  eggs.  And  down 
to  this  day  the  sailors  tell  us  of  the  tranquil 
fortnight  in  which  oceans  are  merciful  and 
tempests  are  still,  for  the  halcyons  are  brood- 
ing and  the  skies  are  stormless  and  blue. 
And  they  wait,  and  sometimes  sing  : 

"  And  as  I  watch  the  line  of  light  that  plays 

Along  the  smooth  wave,  toward  the  burning  west, 
I  long  to  tread  that  golden  path  of  rays, 
And  think  't  would  lead  to  some  bright  isle  of  rest." 

It  is  all  useless,  fable  and  poem  alike  ;  for 
there  is  no  time  to  be  given,  no  spot  to  be 
found,  when  one  may  be  tranquil  or  where 
souls  can  get  a  release.  Yet  the  whole  world 
goes  on  sighing  just  the  same. 

1  125  "  The  sea  of  glass."  8s,  7s. 

Hark!  the  sound  of  holy  voices, 

Chanting  at  the  crystal  sea. 
Hallelujah,  hallelujah. 

Hallelujah,  Lord,  to  thee  ! 

2  Multitudes,  which  none  can  number. 
Like  the  stars  in  glory  stand. 

Clothed  in  white  apparel,  holding 
Palms  of  victory  in  their  hands. 

3  They  have  come  from  tribulation. 
And  have  washed  their  robes  in  blood. 

Washed  them  in  the  blood  of  Jesus; 
Tried  they  were  and  firm  they  stood. 

4  Mocked,  imprisoned,  stoned,  tormented, 
Sawn  asunder,  slain  with  sword. 

They  have  conquered  death  and  Satan 
By  the  might  of  Christ  the  Lord. 

5  Love  and  peace  they  taste  for  ever, 
And  all  truth  and  knowledge  see 

In  the  Beatific  Vision 
Of  the  blessed  Trinity. 

One  of  the  best  known  and  most  musical 
pieces  that  Dr.  Christopher  Wordsworth, 
Bishop  of  Lincoln,  has  given  in  his  Holy  Year, 
1862.  The  author  added  a  manuscript  note, 
with  a  special  reference  to  the  closing  stanza 
"  The  whole  hymn  from  beginning  to  end  is 
in  harmony  with  the  Epistle  for  the  festival  of 
the  day,  Revelation  7:12,  and  like  it  is  the  ut- 
terance in  triumphant  song  of  a  vision  of  the 
final  gathering  of  the  saints." 


I  126  The  City. 

Daily,  daily  sing  the  praises 
Of  the  City  God  hath  made; 

In  the  beauteous  fields  of  Eden 
Its  foundation-stones  are  laid. 

2  In  the  midst  of  that  dear  City 
Christ  is  reigning  on  his  seat, 

And  the  angels  swing  their  censers 
In  a  ring  about  his  feet. 

3  From  the  throne  a  river  issues. 
Clear  as  crystal,  passing  bright, 

And  it  traverses  the  City 
Like  a  sudden  beam  of  light. 

4  There  the  wind  is  sweetly  fragrant. 
And  is  laden  with  the  song 

Of  the  seraphs,  and  the  elders. 
And  the  great  redeemed  throng. 


8s,  7s. 


5  Oh,  I  would  my  ears  were  open 
Here  to  catch  that  happy  strain  ! 

Oh,  I  would  my  eyes  some  vision 
Of  that  Eden  could  attain  ! 

This  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  and 
popular  hymns  written  by  Rev.  Sabine  Bar- 
ing-Gould, some  of  whose  poems  are  to  be 
found  in  many  different  collections.  It  is  a 
description  of  that  celestial  city  in  which 
Christ  reigns,  an  dwhere,  as  it  is  told  us 
in  the  vision  of  St.  John,  Revelation  4  : 3,  the 
sign  of  God's  love  surrounds  that  of  his 
power.  Love  is  symbolized  in  the  rainbow, 
and  power  in  the  throne  ;  and  the  rainbow  is 
round  about  the  throne.  The  attribute  of 
omnipotence  is  not  a  pleasant  one  in  itself  to 
contemplate.  If  we  should  look  up  at  this 
glorious  spectacle  and  see  only  the  throne, 
we  might  be  frightened.  We  should  be 
hushed  into  trembling  silence  before  the 
thunder  which  shakes  the  cedars,  tosses  the 
waves  of  the  ocean,  and  counts  the  moun- 
tains but  as  a  very  little  thing.  But  we  see 
the  bow  round  about  the  throne ;  our  eyes 
behold  and  our  hearts  believe  that  whatever 
is  alarming  in  our  thought  of  the  Supreme 
Being  who  rules  us  is  embraced  in  a  beautiful 
circle  of  emerald  promise  which  gives  peace. 
And  this  is  better  than  to  be  told  merely  by 
words.  The  venerable  Hooker  was  uttering 
something  more  than  a  simple  rule  of  rhetoric 
when  he  once  said,  "  What  we  drink  in  at  our 
ears  doth  not  so  piercingly  enter  as  what  the 
mind  doth  conceive  by  sight."  It  does  not 
seem  as  if  any  one  could  ever  forget  this  arch 
of  promise  above  and  around  this  seat  of 
power. 

I  I  27  ^ot  our  Rest.  8s,  7s. 

This  is  not  my  place  of  resting— 

Mine  's  a  city  yet  to  come ; 
Onward  to  it  I  am  hasting — 

On  to  my  eternal  home. 

2  In  it  all  is  light  and  glory ; 
O'er  it  shines  a  nightless  day  ; 

Every  trace  of  sin's  sad  story. 
All  the  curse,  hath  passed  away. 

3  There  the  Lamb,  our  Shepherd,  leads  us 
By  the  streams  of  life  along — 

On  the  freshest  pastures  feeds  us. 
Turns  our  signing  into  song. 

4  Soon  we  pass  this  desert  dreary, 
Soon  we  bid  farewell  to  pain  ; 

Never  more  are  sad  or  weary. 
Never,  never  sin  again  ! 

This  was  cut  from  the  Bible  Hymn-Book, 
1845,  away  back  in  those  early  days  when 
there  was  hardly  a  hymn-book  with  tunes 
prablished  or  used  in  the  American- churches. 
The  name  of  Dr.  Horatius  Bonar  had  not 
become  a  household  word,  and  few  people 
cared  to  know  who  the  authors  of  hymns 


476 


THE   REST  OF  HEAVEN. 


were,  though  they  knew  a  good  one  when 
they  found  it.  It  was  entitled,  "  Pressing 
toward  Heaven,"  and  it  reproduced  the  sen- 
timent of  Deuteronomy  12:9:  "  For  ye  are 
not  as  yet  come  to  the  rest  and  to  the 
inheritance  which  the  Lord  your  God  giveth 
you." 

I  1 28  "  The  King  in  his  beauty."  8s,  ys. 

Time,  thou  speedest  on  but  slowly, 
Hours,  how  tardy  is  your  pace! 

Ere  with  Him,  the  high  and  holy, 
_  I  hold  converse  face  to  face. 

Here  is  naught  but  care  and  mourning; 
Comes  a  joy,  it  will  not  stay ; 

Fairly  shines  the  sun  at  dawning, 
Night  will  soon  o'ercloud  the  day. 

2  Onward  then !  not  long  I  wander 

Ere  my  Saviour  comes  for  me. 
And  with  him  abiding  yonder. 

All  his  glory  1  shall  see. 
Oh,  the  music  and  the  singing 

Of  the  host  redeemed  by  love ! 
Oh,  the  hallelujahs  ringing 

Through  the  halls  oflight  above ! 

Miss  Catharine  Winkworth  published  these 
stanzas  in  the  Lyra  Germanica,  Series  II., 
1858.  The  poem  included  much  more,  but 
these  lines  of  it  seemed  the  fittest  for  public 
use.  It  is  a  translation  of  one  of  the  Ger- 
man hymns  of  Johann  Georg  Albinus,  once 
pastor  at  Unter  Nessa,  in  Sa.xony.  This  au- 
thor was  born  March  6,  1624,  and  died  May 
25,  1679. 

I  1 29  Tlie  Consummation.  85,  7s.  D. 

Jesl'S,  blessed  Mediator ! 

Thou  the  air>-  path  hast  trod ; 
Thou  the  Judge,  the  Consummator! 

Shepherd  of  the  fold  of  God  I 
Can  I  trust  a  fellow-being? 

Can  I  trust  an  angel's  care? 
O  thou  merciful  All-seeing  ! 

Beam  around  my  spirit  there. 

2  Blessed  fold  !  no  foe  can  enter. 
And  no  friend  departeth  thence ; 

Jesus  is  their  sun,  their  center, 
And  their  shield — Omnipotence! 

Blessed,  for  the  Lamb  shall  feed  them, 
All  their  tears  shall  wipe  away, 

To  the  living  fountains  lead  them. 
Till  fruition's  perfect  day. 

3  Lo  !  it  comes,  that  day  of  wonder ! 
Louder  chorals  shake  the  skies : 

Hades'  gates  are  burst  asunder; 

See  !  the  new-clothed  myriads  rise  ! 
Thought  !  repress  thy  weak  endeavor ; 

Here  must  reason  prostrate  fall ; 
Oh,  the  ineffable  For  ever  ! 

And  the  eternal  All  in  All ! 

This  hymn  by  Josiah  Conder  was  first 
published  in  Collyer's  Collection,  181 2,  having 
originally  eight  stanzas  of  eight  lines  each. 
The  abbreviation  of  it,  as  given  here,  is  the 
form  in  common  use.  The  poem  is  a  glow- 
ing picture  of  the  peace  and  joy  which  Christ's 
love  will  shed  around  believers  as  they  enter 
the  unknown  world. 


Christian  faith  loves  to  repeat  the  last  words 
of  the  martyr  Stephen.  He  did  not  appear 
very  anxious  to  know  any  details  of  that  new 
life.  He  was  satisfied  to  put  his  soul  in  the 
hands  of  God  who  gave  it.  God  would  do 
with  it  just  what  he  pleased.  Oh,  it  is  easy 
for  one,  who,  while  living,  has  given  his  spirit 
to  God,  in  the  covenant  hope  of  redemption, 
to  surrender  it  joyfully  in  the  hour  of  death  ! 
Stephen  knew  just  where  he  was.  Through 
the  opened  rift  of  the  blue  sky  over  his  head 
came  a  blessed  vision  to  give  him  welcome 
and  encouragement.  There  he  saw  the  Lord 
Jesus  at  the  right  hand  of  his  Father.  It  was 
into  no  strange  companionship  he  was  going. 
That  mysterious  indweller  of  his  mutilated 
and  dying  body,  which  he  called  his  spirit, 
was  on  the  point  now  of  being  cared  for  bet- 
ter than  ever  it  had  been  before.  Up  to  this 
last  moment  that  redeemed  nature  of  his  had 
been,  like  a  militant  prince,  absent  from  his 
royal  abode,  out  in  the  campaign,  dwelling  in 
a  tent,  roughing  it  in  innumerable  hardships. 
It  had  had  a  fight  to  make  to  hold  fast  its 
crown.  Now,  in  the  high  utterance  of  this 
tranquil  surrender,  it  resembled  the  same 
prince,  in  the  hour  of  triumph,  going  home  to 
the  palace.  It  mattered  little  thereafter  that 
the  old  tent  was  battered  and  torn.  He 
would  not  need  it  any  more.  The  victory 
was  gained,  the  pageant  of  entrance  begun. 
Think  of  that  martyr  as  he  is  to-day,  now 
that  eighteen  centuries  have  passed  on ! 
There  he  stands  on  the  plains  of  eternity, 
tearless  and  scarless,  in  the  presence  of  the 
Lord  Jesus  who  received  his  spirit.  And 
close  beside  him,  having  likewise  kept  the 
faith,  stands  the  young  man  named  Saul ! 

1130  "Holdfast."  C.  M.  D. 

The  roseate  hues  of  early  dawn. 

The  brightness  of  the  day. 
The  crimson  of  the  sunset  sky. 

How  fast  they  fadeaway! 
Oh  for  the  pearly  gates  of  heaven  ! 

Oh,  for  the  golden  floor! 
Oh,  for  the  Sun  of  Righteousness, 

That  setteth  nevermore! 

2  The  highest  hopes  we  cherish  here. 
How  soon  they  tire  and  faint ! 

How  many  a  spot  defiles  the  robe 

That  wraps  an  earthly  saint ! 
Oh,  for  a  heart  that  never  sins  ! 

Oh,  for  a  soul  washed  white! 
Oh,  for  a  voice  to.praise  our  King, 

Nor  weary  day  or  night  ! 

3  Here  faith  is  ours,  and  heavenly  hope, 
\nA  grace  to  lead  us  higher ; 

But  there  are  perfectness  and  peace 

Beyond  our  best  desire. 
Oh,  by  thy  love  and  anguish,  Lord, 

And  by  thy  life  laid  down. 
Grant  that  we  fall  not  from  thy  grace, 

Nor  fail  to  reach  our  crown ! 


THE   REST   OF   HEAVEN. 


477 


This  poem  by  Mrs.  Cecil  Frances  Alexan- 
der was  contributed  to  \ht  Psalms  and  Hymns 
published  by  the  Society  for  Promoting  Chris- 
tian Knowledge  in  1852,  and  has  become  en- 
deared to  believers  on  both  sides  of  the 
ocean.  With  glowing  imagery  it  contrasts 
the  passing  beauties  and  pleasures  of  earth 
with  the  undying  joys  of  heaven,  and  longs 
for  that  other,  fairer  world  where  sorrow  is 
unknown. 

There  is  a  weariness  of  life  in  its  present 
form  which  grows  out  of  simple  disgust  with 
the  world.  We  have  learned  the  precise 
worth,  or,  rather,  precise  worthlessness,  of  all 
it  has  to  offer.  In  a  reply  to  a  salutation  of 
"  Happy  New  Year,"  Lord  Dundas  once 
said :  "  Well,  it  has  need  to  be  better  than 
the  last,  for  I  had  never  a  happy  day  in  it !" 
Though  he  was  a  peer  in  the  realm  of  Britain, 
he  was  ready  to  admit  with  the  Royal 
Preacher,  "  I  have  seen  all  the  works  that  are 
done  under  the  sun,  and,  behold  !  all  is  vanity 
and  vexation  of  spirit."  The  behavior  of  Ab- 
salom outraged  every  feeling  David  cher- 
ished. His  whole  confidence  was  betrayed ; 
he  lost  his  trust  in  men.  We  understand 
this  burst  of  emotion  ;  we  almost  reciprocate 
the  wish  for  a  dove's  wings. 

Then,  too,  there  is  a  weariness  that  comes 
from  circumstances  of  personal  trial.  It  may 
be  bereavement  in  the  circle  of  one's  friends 
has  affected  him  unduly.  Edmund  Burke's 
son  died,  and  the  statesman's  heart  was  half 
broken.  He  wept  bitter  tears  as  he  hung 
with  childish  fondness  around  the  very  neck 
of  the  horse  his  boy  used  to  ride.  Then  all 
England  stood  still  while  he  wrote :  "  I 
greatly  deceive  myself  if  in  this  hard  season  I 
would  give  a  peck  of  refuse  wheat  for  all  that 
is  called  fame  and  honor  in  the  world  !"  He 
lived  to  be  happier  afterward.  Ill  health,  bod- 
ily suffering,  disappointed  ambition,  ingrati- 
tude from  others,  jealousy,  that  is  .cruel  as 
the  grave — all  these  may  make  us  uneasy 
and  cause  us  to  sigh  for  rest.  Want  of  ap- 
preciation, old  estrangements  which  cannot 
be  healed,  clouded  reputation  that  we  cannot 
clear,  but  that  another  gave  to  us  by  his 
crime,  which  was  not  ours — these  mortify  our 
proud  spirits  and  shatter  hopes  of  redemption 
or  rescue.  Some  of  us  have  known  the  hour 
when  we  would  have  been  content  to  see  the 
night  come ;  willing  to  lie  down  speedily, 
and,  like  children  going  to  sleep,  wait  calmly 
for  the  darkness  of  the  great  shadow.  We 
wanted  to  be  out  of  this — out  of  this — any- 
where !  But  with  all  this  experience  of  sor- 
row, we  should  not  dwell  too  much  on  weari- 
ness or  satiety,  but  turn  from  it  to  the  antidote, 


work.     In  that  lies,  with  God's  blessing,  our 
salvation  from  the  bitterness  of  existence. 

1131  "  Let  us  go  over  !"  C.  M.  D. 

On  Jordan's  rugged  banks  I  stand, 

And  cast  a  wishful  eye 
To  Canaan's  fair  and  happy  land, 

Where  my  possessions  lie. 
Oh,  the  transporting,  rapturous  scene, 

That  rises  to  my  sight  ! 
Sweet  fields  arrayed  in  living  green, 

And  rivers  of  delight ! 

2  O'er  all  those  wide  extended  plains 
Shines  one  eternal  day  : 

There  God,  the  Son,  for  ever  reigns. 

And  scatters  night  away. 
Nq  chilling  winds,  or  poisonous  breath, 

Can  reach  that  healthful  shore  ; 
Sickness  and  sorrow,  pain  and  death, 

Are  felt  and  feared  no  more. 

3  When  shall  I  reach  that  happy  place. 
And  be  for  ever  blest  ? 

When  shall  I  see  my  Father's  face, 

And  in  his  bosom  rest  ? 
Filled  with  delight,  my  raptured  soul 

Can  here  no  longer  stay  ; 
Though  Jordan's  waves  around  nie  roll. 

Fearless  I  'd  launch  away. 

Rev.  Samuel  Stennett,  D.  D.,  wrote  this 
hymn,  and  it  was  first  published  in  Rippon's 
Selection,  1787.  It  is  the  one  by  which  this 
author  is  best  and  most  widely  known.  In 
illustrating  such  a  poem  it  seems  as  if  a  full 
quotation  might  be  helpful,  made  from  a  fugi- 
tive description  of  one  of  our  modern  tourists 
published  lately  in  The  Congregationalist ,  en- 
titled, "  The  Jordan  in  our  Hymns."  "  It 
may  seem  a  little  singular  that  one  of  the 
first  intellectual  acts  I  performed  upon  the 
borders  of  the  Jordan  was  the  utterance  of  a 
cool  literary  criticism.  But  it  is  easy  for  any 
one  to  see  how  this  came  about.  Of  course, 
a  man  must  say  something  when  he  earliest 
catches  a  glimpse  of  such  a  notability  as  this 
most  interesting  river,  which  indeed  he  has 
crossed  two  seas  to  visit ;  and  if  he  is  in  com- 
pany he  will  try  to  render  his  remark  as  orig- 
inal as  possible,  or  else  will  seek  to  evade  so 
awkward  a  pressure  by  venturing  upon  a  quo- 
tation outright.  For  personal  reasons  I  chose 
the  latter  alternative.  With  the  modest  en- 
thusiasm of  a  hymn-hunter,  I  indulged  in  the 
forcible  recital  of  one  of  those  strikingly  ap- 
propriate stanzas  of  poetry  that  I  had  in  times 
past  been  wont  to  use  in  the  performance  of 
professional  duty  in  the  pulpit,  and  with 
which  I  knew  myself  to  be  quite  safely  famil- 
iar. As  I  dismounted  from  my  horse,  I  said 
with  the  air  of  one  whose  emotion  demanded 
that  the  sentiments  he  pronounced  might  be 
implicitly  trusted  on  the  present  occasion : 
'  On  Jordan's  stormy  banks  I  stand.' 

"  The  instant  I  perpetrated  the  rehearsal  of 
the  opening  line  I  found  myself  compelled  to 


478 


THE   REST   OF    HEAVEN. 


render  the  criticism ;  and  I  exclaimed  with  a 
noble  candor  of  apology  for  the  author, '  Why, 
these  banks  are  not  in  the  least  stormy.'  And, 
for  my  brethren  and  companions'  sakes,  I 
added  my  intelligent  acquiescence  in  the 
latest  emendations  of  the  venerated  Sten- 
nstt's  hymn,  '  On  Jordan's  rugged  banks  I 
stand.'  That  was  better,  for  the  facts  were 
before  our  eyes,  and  they  corrected  the  poetry. 
"  It  would  not  be  worth  while  to  pursue  a 
mere  epithet  with  speech  or  pen  acrimo- 
niously, and  indeed  the  change  of  a  word 
amounts  to  small  gain  or  loss  either  way,  un- 
less false  ideas  are  inculcated  in  the^service  of 
praise.  But  whoever  will  bethink  himself  be- 
side this  suddenly  disclosed  stream  of  the 
toils  he  has  had  in  approaching  it,  and  so- 
berly draw  near  the  abrupt  brink  so  that  he 
can  look  sheer  down  the  washed  and  torn 
precipice  of  ten  or  twenty  feet  to  the  surface 
of  the  very  swiftly  running  water,  there  dis- 
covering only  a  roaring  volume  of  dark  yel- 
lowish fluid,  foam-covered  and  thick  with 
soil,  hurrying  along  with  torrent-like  violence 
through  that  narrow  gorge  of  less  than  a 
hundred  feet  wide,  will  begin  to  understand 
the  tremendous  force  needed  to  put  in  a  bar- 
rier across  it  so  as  to  pile  up  the  mass  into  a 
heap  on  either  side  like  a  wall.  Something 
'  ailed  '  Jordan  when  it  was  '  driven  back.'  " 

I  132  "  Go  over  this  Jordan."  C.  M.  D. 

There  is  a  land  of  pure  delight, 

Where  saints  immortal  reign; 
Infinite  day  excludes  the  night, 

And  pleasures  banish  pain. 
There  everlasting  spring  abides, 

And  never-withering  flowers ; 
Death,  like  a  narrow  sea,  divides 

This  heavenly  land  from  ours. 

2  Sweet  fields  beyond  the  swelling  flood 
Stand  dressed  in  living  green  ; 

So  to  the  Jews  old  Canaan  stood, 

While  Jordan  rolled  between. 
But  timorous  mortals  start  and  shrink 

To  cross  this  narrow  sea, 
And  linger,  shivering  on  the  brink. 

And  fear  to  launch  away. 

3  Oh,  could  we  make  our  doubts  remove, 
These  gloomy  doubts  that  rise, 

And  see  the  Canaan  that  we  love 

With  unbeclouded  eyes ; 
Could  we  but  climb  where  Moses  stood, 

And  view  the  landscape  o'er, 
Not  Jordan's  stream,  nor  death's  cold  flood, 

Should  fright  us  from  the  shore. 

This  hymn  will  always  be  associated  with 
and  compared  with  the  one  just  before  it.  It 
is  the  familiar  song  of  the  ages  now,  one  of 
the  "  folk-songs  "  of  the  American  people  at 
least.  It  is  No.  66  of  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  Hymns, 
Book  II.  He  entitled  it  oddly,  "  A  Prospect 
of  Heaven  makes  Death  easy."  We  continue 
the  quotation  we  began  just  before :  "  Sud- 


denly the  thought  occurred  to  me  that  here, 
on  the  very  banks  where  we  were  sitting, 
perhaps,  or  close  by  the  spot,  must  have  been 
a  pathetic  line  of  land  on  which  the  first  step 
of  an  Israelite  was  made  as  he  emerged  from 
the  transit  across  the  river.  Ah,  what  a  step 
that  would  seem  to  the  man,  whoever  he  was, 
as  in  one  exalted  moment  he  saw  he  was 
passing  from  bondage  into  freedom,  from 
danger  into  safety  ;  out  of  doubts  and  wor- 
ries, surmises  and  hopes  only,  into  fruition 
and  home,  in  the  land  covenanted  to  the  old 
fathers !  Here  was  the  Plymouth  Rock  of 
the  Hebrew  history.  It  was  necessary  for  us 
to  cast  our  imagination  across  to  the  other 
side  and  seem  to  be  facing  the  opposite  way, 
in  order  to  catch  the  full  force  of  such  a  con- 
sideration ;  but  it  forcibly  occurred  to  more 
than  one  of  our  company  that  the  enthusiasm 
of  a  long  train,  like  that  made  by  the  two 
millions  of  Israel,  must  have  finally  attained 
its  height  at  the  moment  when  those  behind 
caught  a  vision  of  the  foremost  rank  posi- 
tively landing  on  the  soil  of  Canaan  and 
mounting  up  the  rugged  banks  of  the  stream 
divided  for  their  passing. 

"  For  all  the  years,  this  crossing  of  the  Jor- 
dan River  has  been  an  understood  symbol 
for  the  Christian's  death  ;  and  the  region  be- 
yond it,  more  faintly  the  symbol  of  heaven. 
Isaac  Watts  used  to  look  across  an  arm  of 
the  English  Channel,  over  towards  Southamp- 
ton Water,  beyond  the  broad  expanse  of 
which  lay  the  rich  meadows  and  copses  of 
the  New  Forest.  As  in  most  instances,  this 
wonderful  hymnist  has  far  outstripped  his 
predecessors,  and  proved  himself  the  sweet- 
est singer  of  all.  This  was  the  farewell  song 
which  we  sang  that  day  as  we  left  the  stream  : 

"  'Sweet  fields  beyond  the  swelling  flood 
Stand  dressed  in  living  green  ; 
So  to  thejews  old  Canaan  stood, 
While  Jordan  rolled  between.'  " 

I  1 33  T^^  New  Jerusalem.  C.  M . 

Jerusalem!  my  happy  home  I 

Name  ever  dear  to  me! 
When  shall  my  labors  have  an  end. 

In  joy,  and  peace,  in  thee  ? 

2  Oh,  when,  thou  city  of  my  God, 
Shall  I  thy  courts  ascend, 

Where  congregations  ne'er  break  up. 
And  Sabbaths  have  no  end  ? 

3  There  happier  bowers  than  Eden's  bloom, 
Nor  sin  nor  sorrow  know ; 

Blest  seats  !  through  rude  and  stormy  scenes 
I  onward  press  to  you. 

4  Why  should  I  shrink  at  pain  and  woe. 
Or  feel  at  death  dismay? 

I  've  Canaan's  goodly  land  in  view, 
And  realms  of  endless  day. 


THE  REST   OF   HEAVEN. 


479 


5  Apostles,  martyrs,  prophets  there. 
Around  my  Saviour  stand  ; 

And  soon  my  friends  in  Christ  below 
Will  join  the  glorious  band. 

6  Jerusalem  !  my  happy  home! 
My  soul  still  pants  for  thee ; 

Then  shall  my  labors  have  an  end, 
When  I  thy  joys  shall  see. 

The  authorship  of  this  poem  has  been  much 
disputed,  as  it  has  been  confounded  with  the 
"  O  Mother  dear,  Jerusalem,"  of  "  F.  B.  P."; 
but  later  researches  seem  to  prove  beyond  a 
doubt  that  it  was  the  work  of  James  Mont- 
gomery. It  was  first  published  in  Williams 
and  Boden's  Collection  of  above  Six  Hundred 
Hymns,  in  i8oi,  with  the  signature,  "  Eckin- 
ton,  C."  Montgomery  was  for  some  time  an 
assistant  in  the  printing  business  in  Sheffield 
to  Joseph  Gales,  whose  parents  and  sisters 
resided  at  Eckington,  six  miles  away,  and  he 
was  in  the  habit  of  visiting  them  frequently. 
The  sisters  were  members  of  the  Parish 
Church  choir,  and  among  Montgomery's  man- 
uscripts was  found  a  copy  of  Dickson's  ver- 
sion of  the  New  Jerusalem  hymn,  which  had 
been  sent  him  by  a  friend  with  the  request 
that  he  would  condense  it  into  a  suitable  form 
for  church  use.  Soon  after,  1 796-1800,  a  small 
book  of  hymns  was  printed  by  him  for  the 
choir,  and  in  this  the  text  of  our  version  is 
given.  The  poem  has  attained  a  place  in 
general  favor,  and  is  in  use  on  both  sides  of 
the  sea. 

I  1 34  Paradise  of  joy.  7s,  6s.  D. 

For  thee,  O  dear,  dear  Country, 

Mine  eyes  their  vigils  keep ; 
For  very  love,  beholding 

Thy  happy  name,  they  weep. 
The  mention  of  thy  glory 

Is  unction  to  the  breast. 
And  medicine  in  sickness. 

And  love,  and  life,  and  rest. 

2  With  jasper  glow  thy  bulwarks, 
Thy  streets  with  emeralds  blaze ; 

The  sardius  and  the  topaz 

Unite  in  thee  their  rays  ; 
Thine  ageless  walls  are  bonded 

With  amethyst  unpriced ; 
The  saints  build  up  its  fabric, 

The  corner-stone  is  Christ. 

3  Thou  hast  no  shore,  fair  ocean  ; 
Thou  hast  no  time,  bright  day: 

Dear  fountain  of  refreshment 

To  pilgrims  far  away : 
Upon  the  Rock  of  ages 

They  raise  thy  holy  tower; 
Thine  is  the  victor's  laurel. 

And  thine  the  golden  dower. 

4  Oh,  sweet  and  blessed  Country, 
The  home  of  God's  elect ! 

Oh,  sweet  and  blessed  Country, 

That  eager  hearts  expect ! 
Jesus,  in  mercy  bring  us 

To  that  dear  land  of  rest ; 
Who  art,  with  God  the  Father, 

And  Spirit,  ever  blest. 


In  the  group  of  famous  Latin  hymns  where 
the  Dies  Irce  stands  first  for  its  majesty,  and 
the  Stabat  Mater  for  its  pathos,  the  great  po- 
em of  Bernard  of  Morlaix,  known  to  us  in 
English  as  The  Celestial  Country,  holds  a 
place  of  its  own.  No  other  song  of  the  joys 
of  heaven  is  so  full  of  loveliness  and  so  glow- 
ing in  its  descriptions  as  this  work  of  an  ob- 
scure monk  in  the  Abbey  of  Cluny.  Neither 
the  date  of  his  birth  or  his  death  is  known  to 
us,  but  he  was  the  child  of  English  parents, 
and  born  at  Morlaix  in  Brittany,  early  in  the 
twelfth  century.  As  far  as  we  can  tell,  the 
greater  part  of  his  life  was  spent  in  the  famous 
abbey,  which  was  then  at  the  height  of  its 
power  and  splendor ;  its  head  from  1 122-1 1 56 
being  the  noble  and  lovable  man  called  Peter 
the  Venerable.  About  1 145,  among  surround- 
ings of  the  greatest  ecclesiastical  splendor,  the 
poem  De  Contevtptu  Mundi  was  written,  a 
biting  satire  on  the  vices  and  follies  of  the 
time,  yet  containing  this  unequaled  song  of 
love  and  joy.  The  meter  is  one  of  such  diffi- 
culty that  all  attempts  to  reproduce  it  in  Eng- 
lish have  failed,  and  its  author  believed  that 
he  accomplished  it  only  by  special  divine 
grace.  The  first  translation  was  made  by 
Rev.  Dr.  John  M.  Neale  and  published  in  his 
Mediceval  Hymns,  1851.  This  included  only 
ninety-six  lines,  but  in  1858  he  gave  to  the 
world  a  version  of  two  hundred  and  eighteen 
lines,  from  which  all  the  centos  in  use  at  pres- 
ent are  taken. 

I  I  35  "  Follow  in  His  Steps."  7s,  6s.  D- 

O  HAPPY  band  of  pilgrims, 

If  onward  ye  will  tread. 
With  Jesus  as  your  Fellow, 

To  Jesus  as  your  Head. 
The  cross  that  Jesus  carried. 

He  carried  as  your  due : 
The  crown  that  Jesus  weareth. 

He  weareth  it  for  you. 

2  The  faith  by  which  ye  see  him. 
The  hope  in  which  ye  yearn, 

The  love  that  through  all  trouble 

To  him  alone  will  turn  : 
What  are  they  but  forerunners 

To  lead  you  to  his  sight  ? 
What  are  they  save  the  effluence 

Of  uncreated  light  ? 

3  The  trials  that  beset  you, 
The  sorrows  ye  endure, 

The  manifold  temptations 

That  death  alone  can  cure ; 
What  are  they  but  his  jewels 

Of  right  celestial  worth? 
What  are  they  but  the  ladder, 

Set  up  to  heaven  on  earth  ? 

In  the  Hymns  of  the  Eastern  Church,  1 862, 
Rev.  John  Mason  Neale,  D.  D.,  without  giv- 
ing the  original  Greek,  has  published  this  as  a 
translation  from  one  of  the  poems  of  St.  Jo- 
seph the  Hymnographer.     It  is  a  very  beauti- 


48o 


THE   REST   OF    HEAVEN. 


•ful  and  inspiriting  song  for  such  as  love  to 
sing  in  this  the  earthly  house  of  their  pil- 
grimage, and  render  the  way  joyful  as  they 
journey.  It  was  the  voice  of  another  pilgrim 
that  Christian  heard  on  before  him  in  the 
valley  which  filled  his  heart  with  cheer.  This 
figure  of  each  child  of  God  as  a  pilgrim  is  a 
frequent  one  in  the  Scriptures  both  of  the 
Old  and  the  New  Testament :  it  refers  to  the 
whole  purpose  of  life.  Abraham  and  those 
before  him  "  confessed  that  they  were  pil- 
grims and  strangers  in  the  earth."  Jacob 
speaks  of  his  life  as  "  The  days  of  the  years 
■of  my  pilgrimage  ;"  to  Moses  and  Israel  the 
Lord  says  :  "  Ye  are  strangers  and  sojour- 
ners with  me  ;"  and  David  elsewhere  speaks 
more  emphatically  :  "  For  we  are  strangers 
before  thee,  and  sojourners,  as  were  all  our 
fathers :  our  days  on  the  earth  are  as  a 
shadow."  The  same  truth  is  well  set  forth 
in  the  legend  of  the  traveler  who  asked  for 
a  night's  lodging  on  his  way.  The  reply 
was  :  "  This  house  is  not  an  inn."  "  But  who 
lived  here  before  you  ?"  "  My  father."  "  And 
who  before  him }"  "  My  grandfather." 
"And  who  shall  live  here  after  you  ?"  "If 
God  will,  my  son."  "  Are  you  not  each  but 
travelers  stopping  for  a  while,  and  is  this  not 
an  inn.-*"  The  brevity  of  this  journey  is 
finely  indicated  by  Joseph  Cook's  words  :  "  If 
you  stand  in  the  school-house  yard  on  tiptoe, 
you  can  see  the  top  of  the  cemetery  gate."  In 
general  literature  the  figure  of  the  text  has 
prominence,  while  the  most  familiar  and 
most  influential  book  written  by  man  is  but 
the  tracing  of  the  progress  of  the  pilgrim  from 
the  beginning  to  the  joyful  end  of  the  Christ- 
ian journey. 


I  136  "A  City:' 

Jerusalem,  the  glorious! 
The  glory  of  the  elect — 

0  dear  anci  future  vision 
That  eager  hearts  expect ! 

Ev'n  now  by  faith  I  see  thee, 
Ev'n  here  thy  walls  discern  ; 

To  thee  my  thoughts  are  kindled, 
And  strive,  and  pant,  and  yearn  I 

2  The  Cross  is  all  thy  splendor, 
The  Crucified,  thy  praise: 

His  laud  and  benediction 
Thy  ransomed  people  raise — 

Jerusalem  !  exulting 
On  that  securest  shore, 

1  hope  thee,  wish  thee,  sing  thee, 
And  love  thee  evermore  ! 

3  O  sweet  and  blessfed  Country  ! 
Shall  I  e'er  see  thy  face? 

O  sweet  and  blessed  Country  I 
Shall  I  e'er  win  thy  grace ! 

Exult,  O  dust  and  ashes  ! 
The  Lord  shall  be  thy  part ; 

His  only,  his  for  ever, 
Thou  shall  be,  and  thou  art  I 


This  is  another  fragment  from  the  great 
poem  of  Bernard  of  Cluny,  translated  by 
Rev.  Dr.  John  Mason  Neale.  Archbishop 
Trench  speaks  of  it  as  "  the  lovely  hymn 
which  within  a  few  years  has  been  added  to 
those  already  possessed  by  the  Church.  A 
new  hymn  which  has  won  such  a  place  in  the 
affections  of  Christian  people  is  an  acquisi- 
tion that  is  priceless." 

I  I  37  "  The  glory  thai  excelleth."  ys,  6s.  D. 

Oh,  fair  the  gleams  of  glory, 

And  bright  the  scenes  of  mirth, 
That  lighten  human  story 

And  cheer  this  weary  earth  ; 
But  richer  far  our  treasure 

With  whom  the  Spirit  dwells, 
Ours,  ours  in  heavenly  measure 

The  glory  that  excels. 

2  The  lamplight  faintly  gleameth 
Where  shines  the  noonday  ray  ; 

From  Jesus'  face  there  beameth 

Light  of  a  sevenfold  day ; 
And  earth's  pale  lights,  all  faded. 

The  Light  from  heaven  dispels  ; 
But  shines  for  aye  unshaded 

The  glory  that  excels. 

3  No  broken  cisterns  need  they 
Who  drink  from  living  rills ; 

No  other  music  heed  they 
Whom  God's  own  music  thrills. 

Earth's  precious  things  are  tasteless, 
Its  boisterous  mirth  repels. 

Where  flows  in  measure  wasteless 
The  glory  that  excels. 

4  Since  on  our  life  descended 
Those  beams  of  light  and  love, 

Our  steps  have  heavenward  tended. 

Our  eyes  have  looked  above. 
Till,  through  the  clouds  concealing 

The  home  where  glory  dwells. 
Our  Jesus  comes  revealing 

The  glory  that  excels. 


Rev.  Charles  Innes  Cameron  was  born  at 
78, 6s.  D.  Kilmallie,  near  Fort  William,  Scotland,  in 
1837,  and  removed  to  Canada  in  1858.  He 
entered  Queen's  College,  Kingston  where  he 
graduated,  and  then  studied  for  three  years 
at  the  Theological  Hall  and  in  Glasgow.  He 
was  ordained  in  1865,  and  immediately  went 
to  India  as  a  missionary  of  the  Church  of 
Scotland ;  but  his  health  became  impaired, 
and  he  was  obliged  to  leave  the  country.  He 
attempted  work  in  Australia  for  a  time,  but 
returned  to  Canada  in  1875,  and  took  charge 
of  a  congregation  at  New  Edinburgh,  in  the 
Presbytery  of  Ottawa.  In  a  brief  time  his 
health  again  gave  way,  and  he  was  compelled 
to  resign  his  work,  dying  shortly  afterwards. 
Mr.  Cameron  wrote  a  number  of  poems 
which  were  published  in  a  small  volume  after 
his  death,  and  from  this  the  hymn  is  taken. 
The  Scripture  verse  which  suggests  the  re- 
frain is  found  in  II.  Corinthians  3:11. 


THE    REST   OF    HEAVEN. 


481 


f  1 38  Tf''^  ^^^  Jerusalem.  7s,  6s.  D. 

Jerusalem,  the  golden, 

With  milk  and  honey  blest ! 
Beneath  thy  contemplation 

Sink  heart  and  voice  oppressed  : 

1  know  not,  oh,  I  know  not, 

What  social  joys  are  there, 
What  radiancy  of  glory. 
What  light  beyond  compare. 

2  They  statid,  those  halls  of  Zion, 
All  jubilant  with  song. 

And  bright  with  many  an  angel. 

And  all  the  martyr  throng  ; 
The  Prince  is  ever  in  them, 

The  daylight  is  serene ; 
The  pastures  of  the  blessed 

Are  decked  in  glorious  sheen. 

3  There  is  the  throne  of  David  ; 
And  there,  from  care  released. 

The  song  of  them  that  triumph. 

The  shout  of  them  that  feast : 
And  they  who,  with  their  Leader, 

Have  conquered  in  the  fight 
For  ever  and  for  ever 

Are  clad  in  robes  of  white. 

This  hymn  of  three  stanzas  is  taken  from 
the  translation  which  Rev.  John  M.  Neale, 
D.  D.,  made  of  the  famous  poem  of  Bernard 
of  Cluny,  composed  in  1122-1156.  Of  this 
piece  Bernard  writes :  "  I  said,  Lord,  to  the 
end  that  my  heart  may  think,  that  my  pen 
may  write,  and  that  my  mouth  may  show 
forth  thy  praise,  pour  both  into  my  heart  and 
pen  and  mouth  thy  grace.  And  the  Lord 
said,  Open  thy  mouth,  which  he  straightway 
filled  with  the  spirit  of  wisdom  and  under- 
standing :  that  by  one  I  might  speak  truly,  by 
the  other  perspicuously.  And  I  say  it  in  no 
wise  arrogantly,  but  with  all  humility,  and 
therefore  boldly,  that  unless  that  spirit  of 
wisdom  and  understanding  had  been  with  me, 
and  flowed  in  upon  so  difficult  a  meter,  I 
could  not  have  composed  so  long  a  work." 

Dr.  Neale  writes  of  his  version  in  1861  : 
"  I  am  deeply  thankful  that  Bernard's  lines 
seem  to  have  spoken  to  the  hearts  of  so 
many ;  I  can  reckon  up  at  least  fourteen  new 
hymnals  in  which  more  or  fewer  of  them 
have  found  a  place."  In  1864:  "  I  am  yet 
more  thankful  that  the  Cluniac's  verses  have 
been  permitted  to  solace  the  death-beds  of  so 
many  of  God's  servants,  and  not  seldom  to 
have  supplied  them  with  the  last  earthly  lan- 
guage of  praise."  And  in  1865:  "Bernard 
would  have  been  surprised  could  he  have 
foreseen  by  how  many  varying  sects  his  poem 
would  be  sung.  The  course  of  a  few  days 
brought  me  requests  to  use  it  from  a  minister 
of  the  Scotch  Establishment  and  a  Sweden- 
borgian  minister ;  also  a  hymn-book  for  the 
use  of  the  American  Evangelical  Lutheran 
Church,  sanctioned  by  the  Ministerium  of 
Pennsylvania,  which  extracts  largely  from  it." 
In  f^ct,  it  may  be  said  to  be  common  now  to 


every  good  hymn-book  in  the  language.  The 
meter  of  the  ancient  Latin  piece  is  so  odd 
and  difficult  that  the  eminent  success  of  Dr. 
Neale  is  conspicuous  and  remarkable. 

I  1 39  "  Short  toil."  7s,  6s.  D. 

Brief  life  is  here  our  portion  ; 

Brief  sorrow,  sort-lived  care  ; 
The  life,  that  knowns  no  ending, 

The  tearless  life,  is  there : 
Oh,  happy  retribution! 

Short  toil,  eternal  rest  ; 
For  mortals,  and  for  sinners, 

A  mansion  with  the  blest ! 

2  And  there  is  David's  fountain, 
And  life  in  fullest  glow  ; 

And  there  the  light  is  golden, 

And  milk  and  honey  flow  ; 
The  light,  that  hath  no  evening, 

The  health,  that  hath  no  sore, 
The  life,  that  hath  no  ending, 

But  lasteth  evermore. 

3  There  Jesus  shall  embrace  us, 
There  Jesus  be  embraced — 

That  spirit's  food  and  sunshine; 

Whence  earthly  love  is  chased  : 
Yes  !  God  my  King  and  Portion, 

In  fullness  of  his  grace, 
We  then  shall  see  for  ever. 

And  worship  face  to  face. 

Here  we  have  another  group  of  stanzas 
taken  from  the  matchless  translation  Dr. 
John  Mason  Neale  made  of  the  poem  of 
Bernard  de  Morlaix,  Monk  of  Cluny.  It  was 
issued,  like  the  rest,  in  his  Mediceval  Hymns 
and  Sequences,  1851.  The  publication  of 
such  work  as  this  was  an  event  in  hymnol- 
ogy.  No  one  can  read  "  Jerusalem,  the 
golden,"  "  Brief  life  is  here  our  portion," 
"  For  thee,  O  dear,  dear  Country,"  "  Jerusa- 
lem, the  glorious,"  without  thinking  aloud, 
"  Happy  indeed  was  Bernard  in  that  he  had 
Neale  to  put  his  glowing  words  within  reach 
of  English-speaking  singers  in  the  churches 
of  Christendom !" 

i  1 40  The  armies  of  God.  7s,  6s.  D. 

Ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand. 

In  sparkling  raiment  bright, 
The  armies  of  the  ransomed  saints. 

Throng  up  the  steeps  of  light ; 
'T  is  finished,  all  is  finished, 

Their  fight  with  death  and  sin  : 
Fling  open  wide  the  golden  grates, 

And  let  the  victors  in. 

2  What  rush  of  hallelujahs 
Fills  all  the  earth  and  sky  ! 

What  ringing  of  a  thousand  harps 

Bespeaks  the  triumph  nigh  ! 
Oh,  day,  for  which  creation 

And  all  its  tribes  were  made ! 
Oh,  joy,  for  all  its  former  woes, 

A  thousand  fold  repaid  ! 

3  Oh,  then  what  raptured  greetings 
On  Canaan's  happy  shore, 

What  knitting  severed  friendships  up, 

Where  partings  are  no  more ! 
Then  eyes  with  loy  shall  sparkle. 

That  brimmed  with  tears  of  late. 
Orphans  no  longer  fatherless, 

Nor  widows  desolate. 

31 


482 


THE   REST   OF   HEAVEN. 


4  Bring  near  thy  great  salvation, 

Thou  Lamb  for  sinners  slain  ; 
Fill  up  the  roll  of  thine  elect, 

Then  take  thy  power,  and  reign  ; 
Appear,  Desire  of  nations — 

Thine  exiles  long  for  home — 
Show  in  the  heaven  thy  promised  sign. 

Thou  Prince  and  Saviour,  come ! 

Most  of  those  whose  taste  would  be  con- 
sidered the  highest  pronounce  this  one  the 
finest  of  all  the  hymns  Dean  Alford  has  given 
to  the  churches.  It  was  written  in  1866,  and 
published  in  the  Year  of  Praise,  1867. 
There  was  an  unusual  felicity  in  the  choice 
made  of  the  hymn  he  had  rendered  significant 
by  his  special  care  as  the  one  to  be  used  at 
his  funeral.  This  piece  was  sung  at  the 
closing  services  out  in  the  church-yard,  after 
the  solemn  obsequies  in  the  cathedral.  There 
those  who  loved  him  gathered  more  closely 
around  his  grave ;  a  new  intensity  seemed 
then  to  be  given  to  the  thought  of  that  other 
life,  the  Christian's  only  true  home,  where 
"  knitting  severed  friendships  up "  is  to  be 
one  part  of  the  blessed  employment  of  the 
saved  and  sanctified  children  of  God.  The 
epitaph  on  Dean  Alford's  tomb  is  in  Latin : 
Deversorium  viatoris  proficzentts  Hterosoly- 
tnan :  "  The  inn  of  a  pilgrim  journeying  to 
Jerusalem." 


1141 


Who  are  these T^ 


8s,  7s,  7s. 


Who  are  these  like  stars  appearing, 

These,  before  God's  throne  who  stand  ? 
Each  a  golden  crown  is  wearing ; 
Who  are  all  this  glorious  band  ? 
Alleluia  !  hark  they  sing, 
Praising  loud  their  heavenly  King. 

2  These  are  they  who  have  contended 
For  their  Saviour's  honor  long, 

Wrestling  on  till  life  was  ended, 
FoUowmg  not  the  sinful  throng  : 

These,  who  well  the  fight  sustained. 
Triumph  by  the  Lamb  have  gained. 

3  These  are  they  whose  hearts  were  riven, 
Sore  with  woe  and  anguish  tried. 

Who  in  prayer  full  oft  have  striven 
With  the  God  they  glorified  ; 

Now,  their  painful  conflict  o'er, 
God  has  bid  them  weep  no  more. 

4  These,  like  priests,  have  watched  and  waited, 
Offering  up  to  Christ  their  will, 

Soul  and  body  consecrated: 

Day  and  night  they  serve  him  still ; 
Now  in  God's  most  holy  place. 
Blest  they  stand  before  his  face. 

5  Lo,  the  Lamb  himself  now  feeds  them 
On  Mount  Sion's  pastures  fair  ; 

From  his  central  throne  he  leads  them 
By  the  living  fountains  there  ; 

Lamb  and  Shepherd,  Good  Supreme, 
Free  he  gives  the  cooling  stream. 

Miss  Frances  Elizabeth  Cox  published  this 
translation  in  her  Sacred  Hymns  from  the 
German,  1841.  It  is  an  excellent  and  popu- 
lar version  of  Heinrich  Theobald  Schenk's 
"  Wer  sind  die  vor  Gottes  Throne?"     The 


author  of  this  was  pastor  at  Heidelbach  in 
Hesse,  in  which  place  he  was  born,  April  10, 
1656.  He  died  at  Geissen,  April  11,  1727. 
The  Scripture  reference  is  to  Revelation  7 : 
13-17. 

I  142  "  What  is  your  life."  8s,  7s,  7s. 

What  is  life  ?  't  is  but  a  vapor. 

Soon  it  vanishes  away ; 
Life  is  but  a  dying  taper — 

O  my  soul,  why  wish  to  stay  ? 
Why  not  spread  thy  wings  and  fly 
Straight  to  yonder  world  of  joy  ? 

2  See  that  glory,  how  resplendent ! 
Brighter  Tar  than  fancy  paints  ; 

There,  in  majesty  transcendent, 
Jesus  reigns — the  King  of  saints. 
Why  not  spread,  etc. 

3  Joyful  crowds  his  throne  surrounding. 
Sing  with  rapture  of  his  love  ; 

Through  the  heavens  his  praise  resounding, 
Filling  all  the  courts  above. 
Why  not  spread,  etc. 

4  Go,  and  share  his  people's  glory, 
'Midst  the  ransomed  crowd  appear; 

Thine  a  joyful  wondrous  story. 

One  that  angels  love  to  hear. 

Why  not  spread,  etc. 

In  the  third  edition  of  Hymns  on  Various 
Passages  of  Scripture,  by  Rev.  Thomas  Kelly, 
published  in  1809,  this  poem  is  found.  The 
sentiment  is  very  beautiful,  but  it  may  easily 
be  perverted.  The  question  suggests  itself 
whether  it  is  right  ever  for  one  to  cry  out  in 
the  bitterness  of  his  soul,  "Oh,  that  I  had 
wings  like  a  dove,  for  then  would  I  fly  away 
and  be  at  rest !"  No,  we  answer,  it  may  not 
be  a  moral  sin,  but  it  is  wrong  ;  it  is  needless, 
it  is  useless,  it  is  distrustful,  it  is  cowardly ; 
it  bodes  no  good,  it  brings  no  peace. 

It  is  needless.  This  world  is  not  altogether 
bad.  Much  comfort  is  to  be  found  in  it.  The 
little  child  has  her  rag  doll,  the  boy  gets  a 
pair  of  skates,  the  bride  has  a  husband  and  a 
home,  the  mother  has  a  baby  in  her  arms,  the 
sailor-boy  has  a  ship,  the  merchant  is  gaining 
a  livelihood  in  his  business.  There  are  flow- 
ers around  the  edges  of  the  dustiest  of  parks  ; 
there  are  grand  old  trees  in  the  forests  ;  there 
are  beautiful  paintings  and  exquisite  statues 
in  the  galleries.  We  are  not  without  friends 
that  are  true  and  affectionate.  The  husband 
loves  his  wife,  the  wife  sees  with  her  two  eyes 
that  he  is  glad  as  he  enters  the  door  where 
she  stands  waiting  to  give  him  welcome.  It 
is  not  fair  for  any  one  to  say  that  life  is  all 
threadbare  and  worn  out,  and  then  wail  out 
a  great  forlorn  cry  for  wings  like  a  dove  to 
get  away  from  it. 

It  is  useless,  too.  The  wings  never  come 
in  answer  to  the  call.  There  is  no  other 
place  to  go  to.     Dreamland  never  feeds  the 


THE   REST   OF   HEAVEN. 


483 


children.  The  far-off  look  in  a  melancholy 
maiden's  eyes  is  not  interesting  to  a  brave 
man  who  wants  to  be  her  friend.  There  are 
no  castles  to  let  now  in  Spain.  The  ships 
are  not  coming  in  for  several  years  yet. 
Life  is  very  practical  nowadays ;  most  doves 
keep  their  wings  for  themselves. 

I  1 43  "  H^ist/ul  and  aihirst."  8s,  7s,  7s. 

On  the  fount  of  life  eternal 

Gazing  wistful  and  athirst  ; 
Yearning,  straining,  from  the  prison 

Of  con"fining  flesh  to  burst ; 
Here  the  soul  an  exile  sighs 
For  her  native  Paradise. 

2  Who  can  paint  that  lovely  city, 
City  of  true  peace  divine, 

Whose  pure  gates  for  ever  open 
Each  in  pearly  splendor  shine; 
Whose  abodes  of  glory  clear 
Naught  defiling  cometh  near  ? 

3  There  no  storin>;  winter  rages ; 
There  no  scorching  summer  glows ; 

But  through  one  perennial  spring-tide 

Blooms  the  lily  with  the  rose ; 
And  the  Lamb,  with  purest  ray. 
Scatters  round  eternal  day. 

4  There  the  saints  of  God,  resplendent 
As  the  sun  in  all  his  might. 

Evermore  rejoice  together, 

Crowned  with  diadems  of  light ; 
And  from  peril  safe  at  last. 
Reckon  up  their  triumphs  past. 

5  Happy  they,  who  with  them  seated 
Shall  in  all  their  glory  share ! 

Oh,  that  we,  our  days  completed. 

Might  be  but  admitted  there  ! 
There  with  them  the  praise  to  sing 
Of  our  glorious  God  and  King, 

6  Look,  O  Jesus,  on  thy  soldiers, 
Worn  and  wounded  in  the  fight ; 

Grant,  oh,  grant  us  rest  for  ever, 

In  thy  beatific  sight. 
And  thyself  our  guerdon  be 
Through  a  long  eternity. 

This  translation  by  Rev.  Edward  Caswall 
first  appeared  in  h\s  Masque  of  Mary,  1858. 
The  Latin  original  was  formerly  ascribed  to 
St.  Augustine,  but  later  research  has  proved 
that  it  is  the  work  of  Cardinal  Peter  Damiani, 
who  was  called  "  The  austere  reformer  of  the 
eleventh  century."  He  was  a  man  of  intense 
earnestness  in  correcting  abuses  and  preach- 
ing morality,  and  his  hymns  are  vivid  word- 
pictures.  Yet,  beautiful  as  the  poem  is,  it  is 
distrustful  for  us  to  sigh  too  much  for  some- 
thing different  from  what  we  already  possess. 
God  is  good  in  giving  us  what  we  have ;  we 
should  make  the  most  of  it.  It  may  not  be 
just  such  a  world  as  you  and  I  would  make  if 
we  had  the  contract  for  a  new  one.  But  it  is 
next  to  the  best  one  in  the  universe,  next  to 
the  best  one  we  ever  shall  know.  The  Lord 
is  still  overhead  ;  he  is  in  the  lead  of  history 
yet.     It  is  of  the  essence  of  highest  unbelief 


for  us  to  wish  to  fly  away  from  the  allotments 
of  Divine  Providence. 

It  is  cowardly  to  ask  for  wings  to  fly ;  it  is 
unmanly,  unwomanly,  to  seek  to  flit  away  and 
shirk  duty.  What  if  things  are  disagreeable 
and  lonely  and  perplexing  and  sad  ?  You 
make  them  more  so  the  moment  a  friend  sees 
you  and  hears  your  voice  ;  you  take  down  the 
high  spirits  of  the  world  just  as  soon  as  you 
begin  to  mope  and  sing  for  wings  to  soar  off 
upon.  You  thrust  a  burden  on  those  dear 
souls  that  love  you,  when  you  ought  to  be 
helping  them  to  bear  what  they  are  trying  to 
carry  now.  It  does  no  service,  it  bodes  no 
good,  it  brings  no  peace.  For  a  sighing  world 
like  ours  more  sighs  are,  not  a  benefaction. 
The  burdens  are  heavier,  the  pains  are  sorer> 
the  lights  are  darker,  and  the  rests  never  come. 
So  the  lesson  reaches  its  end  for  us  exactly 
here.  Stand  in  the  place  where  the  dear  Lord 
has  put  you,  and  there  do  your  best. 

I  144  The  New  Jerusalem.  CM. 

O  MOTHER  dear,  Jerusalem, 

When  shall  I  come  to  thee  ? 
When  shall  my  sorrows  have  an  end  ? 

Thy  joys  when  shall  I  see  ? 

2  O  happy  harbor  of  God's  saints  ! 
O  sweet  and  pleasant  soil ! 

In  thee  no  sorrow  can  be  found. 
Nor  grief,  nor  care,  nor  toil. 

3  No  dimly  cloud  o'ershadows  thee. 
Nor  gloom,  nor  darksome  night ; 

But  every  soul  shines  as  the  sun, 
For  God  himself  gives  light. 

4'  Thy  walls  are  made  of  precious  stone, 
Thy  bulwarks  diamond-square. 

Thy  gates  are  all  of  orient  pearl — 
O  God  !  if  I  were  there  ! 

This  familiar  and  beautiful  hymn  has  been 
ascribed  to  several  authors,  but  it  seems  cer- 
tain that  its  original  form  was  a  Latin  poem 
beginning  Urbs  beata  Hierusalem,  suggested 
by  the  Meditations  of  St.  Augustine,  and  dat- 
ing probably  from  the  eighth  century.  The 
writer's  name  is  unknown,  but  like  the  two 
Bernards  h«  has  been  a  fount  of  inspiration 
for  many  a  later  poem.  There  is  in  the  Brit- 
ish Museum  an  undated  manuscript  bearing 
the  title  "  A  Song  Mad  by  F.  B.  P.  To  the 
Tune  of  Diana."  It  is  supposed  to  have  been 
written  in  the  latter  part  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury or  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth,  and 
it  has  been  asserted  that  the  initials  stand  for 
"  Francis  Baker,  Pater,"  or  Priest ;  a  Catholic 
ecclesiastic  who  was  imprisoned  in  the  Tower 
of  London  during  the  persecutions  under  either 
Elizabeth  or  James  I.  Our  version  is  made 
up  of  the  first,  second,  fourth,  and  seventh 
stanzas  with  a  fragment  of  the  ninth,  the 
whole  poem  consisting  of  twenty-six  stanzas 


484 


THE   REST   OF   HEAVEN. 


in  the  quaint  English  of  that  period,  but  glow- 
ing with  beauty  and  tenderness.  The  version 
by  Dickson  is  of  later  date  and  far  inferior  as 
poetry. 


145 


The  better  portion. 


7S,  6s.  D. 


Rise,  my  soul,  and  stretch  thy  wings, 

Thy  better  portion  trace ; 
Rise  from  transitory  things 

Toward  heaven,  thy  native  place: 
Sun  and  moon  and  stars  decay ; 

Time  shall  soon  this  earth  remove  ; 
Rise,  my  soul,  and  haste  away 

To  seats  prepared  above. 

2  Rivers  to  the  ocean  run, 
Nor  stay  in  all  their  course ; 

Fire  ascending  seeks  the  sun  ; 

Both  speed  them  to  their  source  : 
So  a  soul  that  's  born  of  God 

Pants  to  view  his  glorious  face ; 
Upward  tends  to  his  abode. 

To  rest  in  his  embrace. 

3  Cease,  ye  pilgrims,  cease  to  mourn, 
Press  onward  to  the  prize ; 

Soon  our  Saviour  will  return 

Triumphant  in  the  skies  : 
Vet  a  season — and  you  know 

Happy  entrance  will  be  given. 
All  our  sorrows  left  below, 

And  earth  exchanged  for  heaven. 

Rev.  Robert  Seagrave,  M.  A.,  was  born  at 
Twyford  in  Leicestershire,  England,  Novem- 
ber 22,  1693,  and  educated  at  Cambridge, 
graduating  in  17 14.  Soon  after  taking  Holy 
Orders  he  became  much  interested  in  the 
movement  then  in  progress  under  the  Wes- 
leys  and  Whitefield,  and  for  fifteen  years  he 
WTOte  a  succession  of  pamphlets  designed  to 
arouse  the  clergy  to  deeper  interest  in  their 
work.  In  1739  he  was  appointed  Sunday 
Evening  Lecturer  at  Loriner's  Hall  in  London, 
where  he  preached  until  1750.  He  wrote  a 
number  of  hymns  which  were  highly  appre- 
ciated at  the  time,  and  were  published  in  1742, 
in  a  collection  made  by  him  for  the  use  of  his 
congregation.  Of  them  all  only  one  has  re- 
tained a  place  in  popular  favor.  It  is  given 
here  with  the  title,  "  The  Better  Portion."  It 
is  a  comment  on  the  fact  that  the  things  which 
surround  us  are  only  transitory,  and  will  be 
spumed  as  worthless  by  a  soul  which  is  filled 
with  a  sense  of  the  unseen  realities. 

Rhampsinitus,  an  Egfyptian  king,  built  a 
huge  vault,  for  his  treasures,  of  solid  masonry. 
In  it  he  deposited  his  jewels  and  vessels  of 
gold,  and,  locking  the  door  at  night,  conveyed 
the  key  to  the  royal  bed-chamber.  But  in 
the  morning  some  of  his  jewels  were  missing. 
Who  could  have  stolen  them  ?  The  vault 
was  burglar-proof  and  had  not  been  entered. 
It  was  impossible  to  pick  the  lock.  The  build- 
er of  the  vault,  however,  was  more  cunning 
than  the  selfish  king.  One  of  the  stones  was 
so  fitted  in  the  side  of  the  treasure-house  that 


it  could  be  turned  on  a  pivot,  and  thus  the  thief 
secured  an  easy  access  to  the  treasures  within. 
In  our  feverish  dreams  of  wealth,  many  an 
air-castle  with  shining  battlements  rises  be- 
fore us.  But  there  is  a  loose  stone  in  the  ed- 
ifice, and  it  is  not  proof  against  thieves  and 
the  ravages  of  time.  In  our  abstruse  calcu- 
lations there  is  an  unknown  quantity  which  we 
do  not  take  into  account.  Men  fancy  they 
know  a  rogue  when  they  see  one,  but  the 
wisest  of  them  is  deceived  by  the  cunningest 
of  all  rogues — the  man's  self. 

i  146  O  Quanta  Qualia.— part  i.         C.  M.  D. 

Oh,  what  shall  be,  oh,  when  shall  be. 

That  holy  Sabbath  day, 
Which  heavenly  care  shall  ever  keep, 

And  celebrate  alway  ; 
When  rest  is  found  for  wear>-  limbs, 

When  labor  hath  reward. 
When  everything,  for  evermore. 

Is  joyful  in  the  Lord  ? 

2  The  true  Jerusalem  above. 
The  holy  town,  is  there. 

Whose  duties  are  so  full  of  joy. 

Whose  joy  so  free  from  care ; 
Where  disappointment  cometh  not 

To  check  the  longing  heart. 
And  where  the  soul  in  ecstasy 

Hath  gained  her  better  part. 

3  There,  there,  secure  from  every  ill, 
In  freedom  we  shall  sing 

The  songs  of  Zion,  hindered  here 

By  days  of  suffering  ; 
And  unto  thee  our  gracious  Lord 

Our  praises  shall  confess 
That  all  our  sorrow  hath  been  good. 

And  thou  by  pain  canst  bless. 


4  O  glorious  King !    O  happy  State  I 
O  Palace  of  the  blest ! 

O  sacred  peace,  and  holy  joy. 

And  perfect  heavenly  rest  ! 
To  thee  aspire  thy  citizens 

In  glor>-'s  bright  array. 
And  what  they  feel  and  what  they  know 

They  strive  in  vain  to  say. 

5  But  while  we  wait  and  long  for  home. 
It  shall  be  ours  to  raise 

Our  songs  and  chants  and  vows  and  prayers 
In  that  dear  country's  praise  ; 

And  from  these  Babylonian  streams 
To  lift  our  weary  eyes, 

And  view  the  city  that  we  love 
Descending  from  the  skies. 

6  There  Sabbath  day  to  Sabbath  day 
Sheds  on  a  ceaseless  light ; 

Eternal  pleasure  of  the  saints 
Who  keep  that  Sabbath  bright ; 

Nor  shall  the  chant  ineffable 
Decline,  nor  ever  cease. 

Which  we  with  all  the  angels  sing 
In  that  sweet  realm  of  peace. 

We  look  upon  this  long  hymn,  divided  for 
convenience's  sake  into  two  portions,  as  the 
best  work  ever  done  by  our  old  friend,  Rev. 
Samuel  Willoughby  Duffield,  and  one  of  the 
brightest  memorials  of  him  we  possess.  In 
the  English  Hymns,  1 888,  he  gives  his  own 


MISCELLANEOUS, 


485 


account  of  it :  "  Together  these  pieces  form 
a  translation  of  the  "  O  quanta  qualia  sunt 
ilia  Sabbata  "  of  Peter  Abelard,  which  was 
composed  about  the  year  1 1 34.  Abelard 
was  at  that  time  abbot  of  St.  Giidas,  where 
the  monks  did  their  worst  to  poison  him. 
He  sent  this,  with  other  hymns,  to  Heloise, 
who  was  then  abbess  of  the  Paraclete.  The 
present  translation  was  made  in  the  alcoves 
of  the  Astor  Library,  New  York,  in  1883. 
In  examining  the  hymns  prepared  by  Abel- 
ard for  Heloise  and  her  nuns,  this  struck  the 
translator's  eye,  and  he  at  once  rendered  it 
into  English.  Some  months  later  an  inquiry 
was  made  for  this  particular  Latin  hymn 
through  the  columns  of  the  Netc/  York  Trib- 
une. Mr.  Dufifield  responded  by  giving  its 
history  and  publishing  this  version,  which 
was  then  taken  entire  by  Dr.  Robinson  for 
Laudes   Dotnini." 

I  1 47  Song  for  Harvest.  ys.  D. 

Come,  ye  thankful  people,  come, 
Raise  the  song  of  Harvest  Home ! 
All  is  safely  gathered  in 
Ere  the  winter  storms  begin  : 
God  our  Maker  doth  provide 
For  our  wants  to  be  supplied  : 
Come  to  God's  own  temple,  come, 
Raise  the  song  of  Harvest  Home! 

2  We  ourselves  are  God's  own  field, 
Fruit  unto  his  praise  to  yield  : 
Wheat  and  tares  together  sown, 
Unto  joy  or  sorrow  grown  : 

First  the  blade,  and  then  the  ear, 
Then  the  full  corn  shall  appear : 
Grant,  O  Harvest-Lord,  that  we 
Wholesome  grain  and  pure  may  be ! 

3  For  the  Lord  our  God  shall  come, 
And  shall  take  his  harvest  home : 
From  his  field  shall  in  that  day 

All  offences  purge  away  : 
Give  his  angels  charge  at  last 
In  the  fire  the  tares  to  cast : 
But  the  fruitful  ears  to  store 
In  his  garner  evermore. 

4  Then,  thou  Church  Trinmphant,  come. 
Raise  the  song  of  Harvest  Home  ! 

All  are  safely  gathered  in, 

Free  from  sorrow,  free  from  sin : 

There,  for  ever  purified, 

In  God's  garner  to  abide  : 

Come,  ten  thousand  angels,  come, 

Raise  the  glorious  Harvest  Home  I 

Dean  Alford  published  a  volume  called 
Psalms  and  Hymns  in  1844,  in  which  this 
hymn  appears,  with  the  title  "  After  Har- 
vest." When,  in  1867,  he  issued  his  Year  of 
Praise,  he  seems  to  have  made  some  verbal 
alterations  in  some  of  the  stanzas  ;  there  the 
hymn  appears  in  the  form  now  generally  ac- 
cepted. The  changes,  which  are  all  improve- 
ments, are  his  own.  The  poem  is  evidently 
suggested  by  the  note  of  a  text  which  is  at- 
tached to  it:  "He  that  goeth  forth  and 
weepeth,  bearing  precious  seed,  shall  doubtless 


come     again     with    rejoicing,   bringing    his 
sheaves  with  him." 

1148  The  close  of  the  year.  7s.  D. 

Thou  who  roll'st  the  year  around. 

Crowned  with  mercies  large  and  free, 
Rich  thy  gifts  to  us  abound, 

Warm  our  praise  shall  rise  to  thee. 
Kindly  to  our  worship  bow, 

While  our  grateful  thanks  we  tell, 
That,  sustained  by  thee,  we  now 

Bid  the  parting  year — farewell ! 

2  All  jts  numbered  days  are  sped, 
All  its  busy  scenes  are  o'er. 

All  its  joys  for  ever  fled, 

.\11  its  sorrows  felt  no  more. 
Mingled  with  the  eternal  past, 

Its  remembrance  shall  decay ; 
Yet  to  be  revived  at  last 

At  the  solemn  judgment-day. 

3  All  our  follies.  Lord,  forgive  ! 
Cleanse  us  from  each  guilty  stain  : 

Let  thy  grace  within  us  live. 
That  we  spend  not  years  in  vain. 

Then,  when  life's  last  eve  shall  come, 
Happy  spirits,  may  we  fly 

To  our  everlasting  home. 
To  our  Father's  house  on  high  ! 

It  is  not  often  that  we  find  a  hymn  exactly 
fitting  for  the  last  days  of  the  year.  But  in 
this  Dr.  Ray  Palmer  has  been  very  successful 
in  meeting  a  need  generally  felt.  It  is  said 
to  have  been  prepared  for  an  occasion  emi- 
nently interesting  to  the  beloved  author  person- 
ally, namely,  the  celebration  of  his  first  New 
Year  after  his  marriage.  It  gives  as  its  motto- 
text  Psa.  65:ii,and  is  dated  1832.  The 
sacred  poets  are  more  frequently  thinking  of 
the  holiday  joys,  and  yet  there  are  in  such  a 
season  many  themes  of  sober  and  tender 
thought  to  be  pondered.  Let  us  walk  coura- 
geously. Let  us  put  on  the  whole  armor  of 
light.  This  will  afford  ample  protection,  for 
it  includes  the  shield  of  faith  and  the  weapon 
of  all-prayer.  If  we  are  ever  saved,  it  will  be 
said  of  us :  "  These  are  they  which  came  out 
of  great  tribulation,  and  have  washed  their 
robes,  and  made  them  white  in  the  blood  of 
the  Lamb  !"  Be  willing  therefore,  to  owe  all 
to  him.  Said  the  good  Lady  Huntingdon : 
"  Oh,  I  want  no  holiness  that  Christ  does  not 
give  me.  I  wish  for  no  liberty  but  what  he 
likes  for  me.  And  I  am  satisfied  with  every 
misery  he  does  not  redeem  me  from  !"  So 
let  the  New  Year  open  cheerfully,  and  the 
hearty  salutation  come  with  a  welcome,  "  Now 
is  our  salvation  nearer  than  when  we  be- 
lieved." There  need  be  to  the  Christian  no 
view  of  sadness  in  all  the  joyous  prospects  of 
the  opening  year.  We  are  all  growing  older  ; 
let  us  hopefully  see  to  it  we  are,  by  the  grace 
of  God,  growing  better  likewise.  It  is  folly  to 
look  back  longingly  ;  let  the  dead  past  bury 
its  dead. 


486 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


I  1 49  New  Year.  7s.  D. 

While,  with  ceaseless  course,  the  sun 

Hasted  through  the  former  year, 
Many  souls  their  race  have  run, 

Nevermore  to  meet  us  here : 
Fixed  in  an  eternal  stale, 

They  have  done  with  all  below: 
We  a  little  longer  wait — 

But  how  little  none  can  know. 

2  As  the  winged  arrow  flies 
Speedily  the  mark  to  find  ; 

As  the  lightning  from  the  skies 
Darts,  and  leaves  no  trace  behind, 

Swiftly  thus  our  fleeting  days 
Bear  us  down  life's  rapid  stream ; 

Upward,  Lord,  our  spirits  raise, 
*  All  below  is  but  a  dream. 

3  Thanks  for  mercies  past  receive ; 
Pardon  of  our  sins  renew  ; 

Teach  us  henceforth  how  to  live. 

With  eternity  in  view : 
Bless  thy  word  to  young  and  old; 

Fill  us  with  a  Saviour's  love  : 
And,  when  life's  short  tale  is  told, 

May  we  dwell  with  thee  above ! 

Rev.  John  Newton  put  this  in  Book  II.  of  his 
Olney  Hymns,  177^),  as  a  New  Year's  song, 
with  the  title,  "  Time,  how  Swift,"  but  it  was 
first  published  in  his  Twenty-six  Sermons  on 
Religions  Subjects,  1774.  It  is  likely  that  al- 
most all  the  children  in  our  land  know  this 
hymn  next  to  "  Rock  of  Ages."  We  have 
heard  of  a  custom  kept  up  by  some  good  men 
of  choosing,  each  New  Year's  morning,  a 
word  or  a  sentence  which  should  be  their 
motto  for  the  months  which  succeeded.  But 
Jesus  of  Nazareth  seems  to  have  made  this 
choice  once  for  all  early  in  his  career.  He 
has  recorded  it;  and  we  now  give  it  full 
recognition  as  the  pervading  and  controlling 
principle  of  his  wonderful  life.  "  1  must  be 
about  my  Father's  business,"  was  his  annun- 
ciation of  purpose.  And  this  concerns  our- 
selves only  so  far  as  we  admit  him  to  be  the 
master  and  model  of  our  lives.  If  it  be  true, 
as  we  so  often  assert,  that  the  Christian  life  is 
merely  Christ's  life  imitated  and  reproduced, 
then  his  motto  is  ours  also.  We  wrote  it  up 
over  our  doorway ;  we  made  it  the  seal  of 
our  correspondence ;  we  emblazoned  it  upon 
our  carriage-panels  ;  it  was  engraved  on  our 
•plate ;  it  was  stamped  on  our  coin ;  even  the 
ring  on  our  finger  and  the  buckle  on  our 
shoe's  latchet  bore  the  same  inscription  and 
device.  That  is  to  say,  each  devout  and  true 
Christian  gave  himself  and  signed  himself 
over  unto  God,  writing  on  the  gift  this  symbol 
of  clear  consecration :  "  Henceforth  and  for 
evermore  I  am  to  be  about  my  Father's  busi- 
ness." Really,  now,  it  is  worth  something  to 
remember  this  in  a  world  where  there  is  so 
much  sham  and  so  much  hypocrisy.  It  is 
not  a  welcome  thing  to  be  false  even  to  the 


standard  others  set  up  for  us ;  yet  have  we 
one  measure  of  relief  when  thus  reproached. 
We  can  plead  want  of  jurisdiction,  and  de- 
clare against  the  judgment.  But  to  be  false 
to  our  own  standard  is  a  misfortune  without 
any  possible  alleviation  ;  for  it  is  then  our 
own  tongue  which  tells  us  we  lie.  The  an- 
cient knight  could  always  abide  slander  un- 
moved ;  for  a  clear  way  was  opened  for  him 
to  vindicate  his  honor  by  his  courage ;  but  a 
real  blot  on  his  escutcheon  was  beyond  rem- 
edy ;  it  was  a  trial  and  a  shame. 

I  I  50  Independence  Day.  *  7s.  D. 

Swell  the  anthem,  raise  the  song ; 
Praises  to  our  God  belong ; 
Saints  and  angels  join  to  sing 
Praises  to  the  heavenly  King. 
Blessings  from  his  liberal  hand 
Flow  around  this  happy  land  : 
Kept  by  him,  no  foes  annoy  ; 
Peace  and  freedom  we  enjoy. 

2  Here,  beneath  a  virtuous  sway, 
May  we  cheerfully  obey  ; 
Never  feel  oppression's  rod. 
Ever  own  and  worship  God. 
Hark  !  the  voice  of  nature  sings 
Praises  to  the  King  of  kings ; 
Let  us  join  the  choral  song, 
And  the  grateful  notes  prolong. 

Rev.  Nathan  Strong,  D.  D.,  was  born  at 
Coventry,  Conn.,  October  i6,  1748,  and  edu- 
cated at  Yale  College,  graduating  in  1769. 
He  studied  law  at  first,  but  decided  to  enter 
the  ministry,  and  in  1774  he  became  pascor  of 
the  First  Congregational  Church  in  Hartford, 
remaining  in  the  same  charge  for  forty-two 
years.  He  died  there  in  1816,  greatly  hon- 
ored and  beloved.  Dr.  Strong's  services  to 
hymnology  in  this  country  were  very  valua- 
ble. He  was  principal  editor  of  one  collection 
in  which  a  number  of  his  own  poems  ap- 
peared. The  one  quoted  here  was  published 
in  the  Hartford  Selection,  1799,  ^"^  is  per- 
haps the  best  known  and  most  popular.  It 
was  written  to  be  used  on  occasions  of 
national  thanksgiving,  and  is  glowing  with 
the  same  patriotism  that  inspired  the  famous 
and  prophetic  words  of  Daniel  Webster, 
spoken  more  than  sixty  years  ago,  but  still 
dear  to  every  loyal  heart :  "  When  my  eyes 
shall  be  turned  to  behold,  for  the  last  time, 
the  sun  in  heaven,  may  I  not  see  him  shining 
on  the  broken  and  dishonored  fragments  of 
a  once  glorious  Union  !  Let  their  last  feeble 
and  lingering  glance  rather  behold  the  gor- 
geous ensign  of  the  Republic,  now  known 
and  honored  throughout  the  earth,  still  full 
high  advanced,  its  arms  and  trophies  streaming 
in  their  original  luster,  not  a  stripe  erased  or 
polluted,  nor  a  single  star  obscured,  but 
everywhere,  spread  all  over  in  characters  of 
living  light,  blazing  on  all  its  ample  folds,  as 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


487 


they  float  over  the  sea,  and  over  the  land,  and 
in  every  wind  under  the  whole  heavens,  the 
sentiment,  dear  to  every  true  American  heart — 
Liberty  and  Union,  now  and  for  ever,  one  and 
inseparable." 

1151  Thanksgiving.  7s.  D. 

Praise  to  God,  immortal  praise, 
For  the  love  that  crowns  our  days  ! 
Bounteous  Source  of  every  joy, 
Let  thy  praise  our  tongues  employ. 
For  the  blessings  of  the  field,  ' 

For  the  stores  the  gardens  yield  ; 
For  the  fruits  in  full  supply, 
Ripened  'neath  the  summer  sky — 

2  All  that  spring  with  bounteous  hand 
Scatters  o'er  the  smiling  land  ; 
All  that  liberal  autumn  pours 
From  her  rich,  o'erflowing  stores; 
These  to  thee,  my  God,  we  owe. 
Source  whence  all  our  blessings  flow ; 
And  for  these  my  soul  shall  raise 
Grateful  vows  and  solemn  praise. 

This  fine  lyric  was  published  first  in  En- 
field's Hymns,  1772,  and  in  Poems  of  Anna 
LcEtitia  Aikin  in  1773  ;  it  was  written  there- 
fore the  year  previous  to  her  marriage. 
Her  work  was  more  devotional  and  spiritual 
before  she  married  Rev.  Rochemont  Bar- 
bauld,  her  singular  husband.  This  poem  has 
nine  stanzas,  from  which  those  in  use  have 
been  compiled  as  a  Thanksgiving  hymn. 

I  I  52  National.  C.  M. 

Lord  !  while  for  all  mankind  we  pray. 

Of  every  clime  and  coast. 
Oh,  hear  us  for  our  native  land. 

The  land  we  love  the  most. 

2  Oh,  guard  our  shores  from  every  foe, 
With  peace  our  borders  bless, 

With  prosperous  times  our  cities  crown. 
Our  fields  with  plenteousness. 

3  Unite  us  in  the  sacred  love 

Of  knowledge,  truth,  and  thee, 
And  let  our  hills  and  valleys  shout 
The  songs  of  liberty. 

4  Here  may  religion,  pure  and  mild. 
Smile  on  our  Sabbath  hours  ; 

And  piety  and  virtue  bless 
The  home  of  us  and  ours. 

5  Lord  of  the  nations,  thus  to  thee 
Our  country  we  commend  ; 

Be  thou  her  refuge  and  her  trust. 
Her  everlasting  friend. 

Rev.  Dr.  John  Reynell  Wreford  composed 
this  poem  as  a  national  hymn  for  England 
about  the  time  of  Queen  Victoria'  s  accession 
to  the  throne.  It  was  published  among  those 
pieces  which  he  contributed  to  Dr.  Beard's 
Collection,  1837,  and  has  become  more  widely 
popular  than  any  other  work  of  his.  It 
breathes  an  ardent  patriotism  which  endears 
it  to  every  man  who  loves  his  native  land. 
The  poem  recalls  those  solemnly  reiterated 
declarations  and  counsels  which  might  also 
be  called  the  confession  and  creed  of  George 


Washington,  and  which  can  never  be  forgot- 
ten by  any  Christian  patriot :  "  When  I  con- 
template the  interposition  of  Providence,  as  it 
was  visibly  manifest  in  guiding  us  through 
the  Revolution,  in  preparing  us  for  the  recep- 
tion of  the  general  Government,  arid  in  conci- 
liating the  good-will  of  the  people  of  America 
toward  one  another  after  its  adoption,  I  feel 
myself  oppressed  and  almost  overwhelmed 
with  a  sense  of  Divine  munificence.  I  feel 
that  nothing  is  due  to  my  personal  agency  in  all 
those  wonderful  and  complicated  events,  ex- 
cept what  can  be  attributed  to  an  honest  zeal 
for  the  good  of  my  country."  "  No  people  can 
be  bound  to  acknowledge  and  adore  an  Invisi- 
ble Hand  which  conducts  the  affairs  of  men 
more  than  the  people  of  the  United  States. 
Every  step  by  which  they  have  advanced  to  the 
character  of  an  independent  nation  seems  to 
have  been  distinguished  by  some  token  of 
Providential  Agency."  "  Of  all  the  disposi- 
tions and  habits  which  lead  to  political  pros- 
perity, religion  and  morality  are  indispensable 
supports.  In  vain  would  that  man  claim  the 
tribute  of  patriotism  who  should  labor  to  sub- 
vert these  great  pillars  of  human  happiness, 
these  firmest  props  of  the  duties  of  men  and 
of  citizens." 

i  153  Close  of  the  Year.  CM. 

Thee  we  adore,  eternal  Name ! 

And  humbly  own  to  thee 
How  feeble  is  our  mortal  frame, 

What  dying  worms  are  we  ! 

2  The  year  rolls  round,  and  steals  away 
The  breath  that  first  it  gave; 

Whate'er  we  do,  where'er  we  be. 
We  're  traveling  to  the  grave. 

3  Great  God  !  on  what  a  slender  thread 
Hang  everlasting  things  ! 

The  eternal  state  of  all  the  dead 
Upon  life's  feeble  strings  ! 

4  Infinite  joy,  or  endless  woe. 
Attends  on  every  breath  : 

And  yet,  how  unconcerned  we  go 
Upon  the  brink  of  death  ! 

5  Waken,  O  Lord,  our  drowsy  sense, 
To  walk  this  dangerous  road  ! 

And  if  our  souls  are  hurried  hence. 
May  they  be  found  with  God. 

Our  annotations  of  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  poetic 
pieces  in  Laudes  Dommi  very  fitly  end  with 
this  monologue  on  death,  which  he  entitled. 
"  Frail  Life,  and  Succeeding  Eternity."  It  is 
found  with  seven  stanzas  in  his  Book  II.,  No. 
55.  This  "  Father  of  English  Hymnody  "  died 
November  25,  1748  ;  died  in  the  faith  he  had 
preached  and  sung  for  a  generation.  He  said, 
only  the  day  before  he  drew  his  last  breath  : 
"  There  is  nothing  but  the  simple  truth  that 
will  be  of  any  avail  to  us  in  extremity.  I  am 
a  sinner  ;  Christ  is  mv  Saviour.     I  can  let  all 


488 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


DR.  watts'  tomb  :   BUNHILL  FIELDS. 

else  go ;  the  finished  work  of  Christ  is  all  my 
hope.  To  depart  and  be  with  Christ  will  be 
far  better.  I  am  ready  to  go  whenever  my 
Master  may  call  me  hence.  He  has  been  a 
good  Master ;  there  is  nothing  like  being  em- 
ployed in  his  service :  never  mind  the  trials ; 
we  shall  find  success  and  encouragement 
where  we  expected  disappointment."  Those 
who  visit  Bunhill  Fields  in  London,  the  old 
Nonconformist  burial-ground,  will  find  the 
low  square  block  of  stone  with  its  white  slab 
to  mark  the  spot  where  he  was  interred.  It  is 
much  simpler  than  his  gjand  tomb-stone  in 
Westminster  Abbey,  but  it  will  touch  one's 
heart  far  more  tenderly.  On  it  he  will  read 
this  inscription  :  "  Isaac  Watts,  D.  D.,  pastor 
of  a  church  of  Christ  in  London,  successor  of 
the. Rev.  Joseph  Caryl,  Dr.  John  Owen,  Mr. 
David  Clarkson  and  Dr.  Isaac  Chauncy ;  after 
fifty  years  of  feeble  labors  in  the  gospel,  inter- 
rupted by  four  years  of  tiresome  sickness,  was 
at  last  dismissed  to  rest,  Nov.  25,  1748,  aet.  75, 
2  Cor.  V  :  8  :  '  Absent  from  the  body,  present 
with  the  Lord.'  Col.  iii :  4 :  '  When  Christ  who 
is  our  life  shall  appear,  I  shall  also  appear  with 
him  in  glory."  We  need  not  say  that  this 
monument,  erected  by  Sir  John  Hartopp,  Bart., 
and  Dame  Mary  Abury,  is  not  the  only  one 
erected  to  the  memory  of  the  distinguished 
man  whose  ashes  repose  beneath.  Yet,  as 
Dr.  Gibbons  well  says,  "  Dr.  Watts'  works 
have  been  so  widely  dispersed  both  at  home 
and  abroad,  are  in  such  constant  use,  and 
withal  translated  into  such  a  variety  of  lan- 
guages, that  many  of  them  will  remain  more 
durable  monuments  of  his  great  talents  than 
any    representation    that   can    be    made   of 


them,  though  it  were  graven   on  pillars  of 
brass." 

I  1 54  New  Year.  C.  M. 

Our  Father !  through  the  coming  year 

We  know  not  what  shall  be ; 
But  we  would  leave  without  a  fear 

Its  ordering  all  to  thee. 

2  It  may  be  we  shall  toil  in  vain 
For  what  the  world  holds  fair ; 

And  all  the  good  we  thought  to  gain 
Deceive  and  prove  but  care. 

3  It  may  be  it  shall  darkly  blend 
Our  love  with  anxious  fears, 

And  snatch  away  the  valued  friend. 
The  tried  of  many  years. 

4  It  may  be  it  shall  bring  us  days 
And  nights  of  lingering  pain  : 

And  bid  us  take  a  farewell  gaze 
Of  these  loved  haunts  of  men. 

5  But  calmly.  Lord,  on  thee  we  rest; 
No  fears  our  trust  shall  move  ; 

Thou  knowest  what  for  each  is  best, 
And  thou  art  Perfect  Love. 

Rev.  William  Gaskell,  M.  A.,  was  born  at 
Latchford,  near  Warrington,  England,  July 
24,  1805,  and  educated  at  Manchester  New 
College  and  at  the  University  of  Glasgow, 
graduating  in  1825.  Three  years  later  he  be- 
came co-pastor  with  Rev.  J.  G.  Robberds  at 
Cross  Street  Unitarian  Chapel,  Manchester, 
holding  this  position  until  his  death.  He 
married  in  1832  Miss  Elizabeth  Cleghorn 
Stevenson,  who  afterwards  became  well 
known  as  an  authoress.  His  death  occur- 
red June  II,  1884,  and  he  was  buried  at 
Knutsford.  Mr.  Gaskell  wrote  a  number  of 
hymns  vt'hich  were  published  in  various  books, 
the  one  quoted  here  being  from  Beard's 
Unitarian  Collection  of  Hymns  for  Public 
and  Private  Worship,  1837.  About  thirty 
of  his  pieces  remain  in  common  use,  though 
chiefly  in  the  denomination  to  which  he  be- 
longed. 


I  155 


Prayer  for  Seamen. 


C.  M. 


We  come,  O  Lord,  before  thy  throne. 

And,  with  uniteci  plea, 
We  meet  and  pray  for  those  who  roam 

Far  off  upon  the  sea. 

2  Oh,  may  the  Holy  Spirit  bow 
The  sailor's  heart  to  thee, 

Till  tears  of  deep  repentance  flow, 
Like  rain-drops  in  the  sea  ! 

3  Then  may  a  Saviour's  dying  love 
Pour  peace  into  his  breast, 

And  waft  him  to  the  port  above 
Of  everlasting  rest. 

This  small  poem,  with  its  title,  "  The  Sea- 
men's Concert,"  is  given  in  Dr.  Elias  Nason's 
Congregational  Hymn-  Book,  1857.  It  is 
there  credited  to  Mrs.  Phoebe  Hinsdale 
Brown,  and  is  dated  1836.  It  was  first 
printed  in  Linsley  and  Davis'  Select  Hymns^ 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


489 


1836.  Some  years  ago  the  author  of  these 
annotations  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  three 
verses  in  a  religious  newspaper,  printed  as  a 
fugitive  contribution  without  any  name  at- 
tached. He  introduced  them  with  a  sincere 
welcome  in  a  part  of  one  of  his  publications 
which  needed  good  hymns  for  sailors'  an- 
niversaries and  the  like.  But  he  had  no 
notion  of  the  authorship  of  the  piece.  Some 
long  time  afterward  Rev.  John  Spaulding, 
D.  D.,  once  Secretary  of  the  Seaman's 
Friends'  Society,  then  in  his  very  advanced 
age,  thanked  him  publicly  for  his  acceptance 
of  the  poem  as  a  hymn  :  Dr.  Spaulding  re- 
lated the  circumstances  of  its  composition, 
and  claimed  authorship  in  the  case.  Of 
course,  he  was  credited  with  what  he  sought. 
So  other  years  passed  on,  and  that  dear  old 
man  grew  older  and  older.  Then  the  com- 
piler found  out  that  Mrs.  Brown  wrote  the 
hymn,  and  so  reported  progress  on  the  case 
once  more.  Dr.  Spaulding  was  absolutely 
surprised ;  but  yielded  on  the  instant.  He 
looked  it  up,  and  found  he  had  printed  it  in  a 
little  collection  for  meetings,  scores  of  years 
before,  and  had  sung  it  over  and  over  till  he 
thought  he  made  it.  And  then  the  book- 
plate of  the  Spiritual  Songs  was  changed 
again,  and  the  piece  is  now  marked  as  it 
ought  to  be.  Surely,  no  higher  compliment 
could  be  paid  to  any  writer  than  this  excellent 
man,  honest  as  the  daylight  he  lived  in,  paid 
to  her  who  wrote  these  stanzas,  when  he 
sang  them,  and  sang  them  again,  for  forty 
years  and  over,  till  he  thought  they  were  his 
own. 


1155 


Forefathers'  Day. 


L.  M. 


O  God,  beneath  thy  guiding  hand 

Our  exiled  fathers  crossed  the  sea, 
And  when  they  trod  the  wintry  strand, 

With  prayer  and  psalm  they  worshiped  thee. 

2  Thou  heardst,  well  pleased,  the  song,  the  prayer — 
Thy  blessing  came ;  and  still  its  power 

Shall  onward  through  all  ages  bear 
The  memory  of  that  holy  hour. 

3  What  change !  through  pathless  wilds  no  more 
The  fierce  and  naked  savage  roams  : 

Sweet  praise,  along  the  cultured  shore, 
Breaks  from  ten  thousand  happy  homes. 

4  Laws,  freedom,  truth,  and  faith  in  God 
Came  with  those  exiles  o'er  the  waves, 

And  where  their  pilgrim  feet  have  trod. 
The  God  they  trusted  guards  their  graves. 

5  And  here  thy  name,  O  God  of  love, 
Their  children's  children  shall  adore. 

Till  these  eternal  hills  remove 
And  spring  adorns  the  earth  no  more. 

This  hymn  was  composed  by  Dr.  Leon- 
ard Bacon  for  use  at  the  second  Centennial 
of  New  Haven,  April  25,  1838.  It  quickly 
passed  into  the  various  hymnals  of  the  church- 


es and  is  now  one  of  the  standards,  in  the 
estimation  of  all  who  love  New  England  or 
care  for  the  "  forefathers  "  that  settled  and 
founded  it. 

Dr.  Bacon  might  almost  be  said  to  have 
incarnated  himself  in  this  hymn.  If  he  un- 
derstood anything  he  understood  the  polity  of 
the  Congregational  Church.  If  he  loved  and 
honored  anything  he  loved  and  honored  the 
memory  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers.  It  must 
have  rejoiced  his  heart  to  see  so  many  Yan- 
kees walking  the  streets  as  if  they  were  keep- 
ing time  to  the  long-meter  rhythm  of  his 
grand  hymn  and  humming  its  stanzas  to 
"  Duke  Street."  This  honored  man  was 
sometimes  called  belligerent.  He  was  in  the 
midst  of  conflict  almost  always  where  there 
was  one  ranging.  He  helped  to  start  the 
New  York  Independejit  and  the  New  Eng- 
lander.  He  edited  each  in  turn  and  wrote 
voluminously  for  both  as  a  contributor.  He 
made  books  and  took  part  in  discussions. 
He  believed  something,  and  he  was  afraid  of 
nobody.  His  face  was  a  part  of  every  photo- 
graph of  the  American  Board  of  Foreign 
Missions.  His  voice  rang  in  every  debate 
which  disrupted  the  Tract  Society.  For  he 
was  early  in  the  antislavery  agitation  and  was 
a  tremendous  orator  on  a  platform.  Yet  all 
this  time  he  was  gentle  and  kind,  and  those 
who  knew  him  the  most  were  those  who 
loved  him  the  best.  Any  one  can  see  in  his 
face  the  indomitable  resolution  of  a  leader. 
He  had  convictions.  He  thought  the  Pilgrim 
faith  was  founded  on  the  Scriptures,  and  so 
would  stand.  In  his  opinion  the  "  guiding 
hand  "  of  God  led  the  "  exiled  fathers  "  across 
the  sea.  So  one  never  found  him  spiting  the 
creed  he  stood  upon.  Really  it  is  glorious  to 
contemplate  a  man  who  had  confidence  in 
something. 

I  1  57  The  New  Year.  L.  M. 

Great  God  !  we  sing  that  mighty  hand 
By  which  supported  still  we  stand  ; 
The  opening  year  thy  mercy  shows ; 
Let  mercy  crown  it  till  it  close. 

2  By  day,  by  night,  at  home,  abroad, 
Still  we  are  guarded  by  our  God ; 

By  his  incessant  bounty  fed, 
By  his  unerring  counsel  led. 

3  With  grateful  hearts  the  past  we  own ; 
The  future,  all  to  us  unknown, 

We  to  thy  guardian  care  commit, 
And  peaceful  leave  before  thy  feet. 

4  In  scenes  exalted  or  depressed. 
Be  thou  our  joy,  and  thou  our  rest ; 
Thy  goodness  all  our  hopes  shall  raise. 
Adored  through  all  our  changing  days. 

5  Whea  death  shall  interrupt  our  songs, 
And  seal  in  silence  mortal  tongues, 
Our  Helper,  God,  in  whom  we  trust. 

In  better  worlds  our  souls  shall  boast. 


490 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


This  poem  by  Rev.  Dr.  Philip  Doddrige  was 
first  published  in  his  Hymns,  1755,  and  has 
retained  a  place  in  common  use  from  its  fit- 
ness for  services  at  the  New  Year.  It  is  a 
grateful  acknowledgment  of  God's  mercies  in 
the  past,  as  well  as  a  prayer  for  the  present, 
and  an  anticipation  of  the  future,  when  all 
things  shall  have  become  new.  Our  pilgrim- 
age is  the  nearer  its  end  by  a  twelvemonth. 
Travel  is  almost  ended,  home  is  almost  reach- 
ed. An  old  martyr,  looking  across  the  mead- 
ows between  him  and  the  place  where  he  was 
immediately  to  be  burned,  exclaimed,  "  Only 
two  more  stiles  to  get  over,  and  I  am  at  my 
Father's  house  !" 

J  I  58  The  New  Year.  L.  M. 

Our  Helper,  God  !  we  bless  thy  name, 
Whose  love  for  ever  is  the  same ; 
The  tokens  of  thy  gracious  care 
Open,  and  crown,  and  close  the  year. 

2  Amid  ten  thousand  snares  we  stand. 
Supported  by  thy  guardian  hand  ; 
And  see,  when  we  review  our  ways, 
Ten  thousand  monuments  of  praise. 

3  Thus  far  thine  arm  has  led  us  on ; 
Thus  far  we  make  thy  mercy  known ; 
And  while  we  tread  this  desert  land. 
New  mercies  shall  new  songs  demand. 

4  Our  grateful  souls,  on  Jordan's  shore, 
Shall  raise  one  sacred  pillar  more ; 
Then  bear  in  thy  bright  courts  above 
Inscriptions  of  immortal  love. 

Dr.  Philip  Doddridge  has  entitled  this  hymn, 
■"  Ebenezer ;  or,  God's  Helping  Hand,  Re- 
Ariewed  and  Acknowledged.  I.  Samuel  7  :  12." 
It  is  from  his  Hymns,  1755.  He  makes  it  al- 
most personal  in  his  first  line :  "  My  Helper, 
God  !  I  bless  his  name."  A  reminiscence  of 
the  days  that  are  gone  should  be  followed  in- 
stantly by  a  fresh  rehearsal  of  the  promises  of 
God  concerning  the  days  to  come.  Each  New 
Year's  morning  we  are  a  twelvemonth  nearer 
the  downfall  of  all  the  foes  of  Zion.  Antichrist 
is  growing  bolder  and  more  daring ;  that,  how- 
ever, is  the  signal  for  hastening  ruin.  The 
false  prophet  is  losing  his  hold  over  many 
minds,  and  the  ancient  political  dynasties  are 
breaking,  by  the  force  of  which  that  false  faith 
was  furthered.  The  Church  grows  almost 
impatient  with  its  prayer,  "  Come,  Lord  Jesus, 
come  quickly."  The  martyrs  are  redoubling 
their  cries  from  under  the  throne,  "  How  long, 
O  Lord,  how  long."  The  wheels  in  the  middle 
of  the  wheels  of  providence  are  hastening  on 
their  axles.  "  That  Wicked "  is  revealing 
whom  the  Saviour  is  to  destroy  with  the 
brightness  of  his  coming.  We  are  one  year 
nigher  the  crowning  victory  of  that  cause  for 
which  the  fathers  prayed,  though  they  died 
without  the  sight. 


And,  further,  prophecy  is  fulfilling  with  the 
change  of  the  seasons.  The  owl  hoots  in  the 
palaces  of  cities  that,  when  Revelation  was 
written,  were  only  doomed  to  fall.  The  weary 
Jew  has  been  wandering  many  a  desolate  year 
since  the  blood  of  the  Redeemer  fell  on  his 
head.  The  fable  of  the  man  is  real  in  the  na- 
tion, for  it  wanders  homeless  still.  But  even 
Israel  is  beginning  to  look  for  the  latter-day 
glory.  Lights  are  flaming  in  the  distance  that 
in  Paul's  own  day  were  only  promised  to  be 
kindled.  The  earth  rocks  to  and  fro  with  the 
unseen  forces  which  are  waking  from  the 
ancient  slumber.  The  voices  of  the  seasons 
are  almost  hoarse  with  singing.  He  whose 
right  it  is  to  reign  shall  come.  Predictions 
are  registering  themselves  daily  on  the  books 
and  reporting  for  duty  as  histories.  Events 
are  marshaling  into  order  for  the  final  pageant. 

And  still  further  :  the  crowns  are  gathering 
for  the  head  of  him  who  has  many  to  wear. 
The  children  of  the  kingdom  are  cutting  the 
palms  they  will  throw  in  the  pathway  of  the 
new  King.  Go  up  on  the  outlook  of  any  New 
Year's  day,  and  cast  your  eye  off  on  the  na- 
tions. Can  you  see  what  Daniel  saw — that 
little  stone  cut  out  without  hands,  destined  to 
fill  the  whole  earth  }  Take  down  the  harps 
from  the  willows — be  ready  for  a  new  song. 
The  kingdom  we  have  so  long  prayed  for  is 
surely  coming. 

I  I  59  Prayer  for  the  Seamen.  L.  M.  61. 

Eternal  Father !  strong  to  save, 
Whose  arm  doth  bind  the  restless  wave, 
Who  bid'st  the  mighty  ocean  deep 
Its  own  appointed  limits  keep  : 

Oh,  hear  us  when  we  cry  to  thee 

For  those  in  peril  on  the  sea  ! 

2  O  Saviour  !  whose  almighty  word 
The  winds  and  waves  submissive  heard. 
Who  walkedst  on  the  foaming  deep, 
And  calm  amid  its  rage  did  sleep: 

Oh,  hear  us  when  we  cry  to  thee 
For  those  in  peril  on  the  sea  ! 

3  O  Sacred  Spirit  !  who  didst  brood 
Upon  the  chaos  dark  and  rude. 
Who  bad'st  its  angry  tumult  cease. 
And  gavest  light  and  life  and  peace: 

Oh,  hear  us  when  we  cry  to  thee 
For  those  in  peril  on  the  sea  ! 

4  O  Trinity  of  love  and  power  ! 

Our  brethren  shield  in  danger's  hour; 
From  rock  and  tempest,  fire  and  foe. 
Protect  them  wheresoe'er  they  go  ; 
And  ever  let  there  rise  to  thee 
Glad  hymns  of  praise  from  land  and  sea. 

William  Whiting  was  born  in  Kensmgton, 
London,  November  i,  1825,  and  educated  at 
Clapham  and  Winchester.  In  the  latter  town 
he  held  for  more  than  twenty  years  the  posi- 
tion of  Master  of  the  Winchester  College 
Choristers'  School,  dying  there  in  1878.  The 
poem  by  which   Mr.  Whiting   is  so  widely 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


491 


known  was  written  for  Hymns,  Ancient  and 
Modern,  and  published  in  1861  in  its  present 
form.  It  has  always  been  associated  with 
Dr.  Dykes'  beautiful  tune  called  "  Melita," 
the  ancient  name  of  Malta,  on  which  St.  Paul 
was  shipwrecked,  and  words  and  music  have 
become  endeared  to  the  world.  Not  only  the 
dwellers  by  the  sea,  but  those  who  from  their 
inland  homes  follow  in  imagination  the  ship 
that  bears  the  husband  or  son  over  the  toss- 
ing waves,  will  join  with  a  full  heart  in  the 
refrain : 

"  Oh,  hear  us  when  we  cry  to  thee 
For  those  in  peril  on  the  sea  !" 

The  fishermen  of  Brittany,  so  the  story 
goes,  are  wont  to  utter  this  simple  prayer 
when  they  launch  their  boats  upon  the  deep  : 
"  Keep  me,  my  God  ;  my  boat  is  so  small  and 
thy  ocean  is  so  wide."  How  touchingly  beau- 
tiful the  words  and  the  thought !  Might  not 
the  same  petition  be  uttered  with  as  much 
directness  every  morning  and  evening  of  our 
daily  life :  "  Keep  me,  my  God ;  for  my  boat 
is  so  small  and  thy  ocean  is  so  wide !"  Keep 
me,  my  God,  keep  me  from  the  perils  and 
temptations  that  throng  around  me  as  I  go 
about  my  daily  duties.  "  My  boat  is  so 
small  " — I  am  so  weak,  so  helpless,  so  prone 
to  wander,  so  forgetful  of  thy  loving-kindness  ! 
I  am  tossed  to  and  fro  at  the  mercy  of  the 
world ;  I  am  buffeted  about  by  sharp  adver- 
sity and  driven  before  the  storms  of  grief  and 
sorrow.  Except  thou  dost  keep  me  I  must 
perish.  Keep  me,  my  God,  for  "  thy  ocean  is 
so  wide" — the  journey  is  so  long,  and  the 
days  and  the  years  are  many.  "  In  thee,  O 
Lord,  do  I  put  my  trust.  Deliver  me  in  thy 
righteousness." 

I  1 60  i'^st  Day  of  the  Year.  8s,  7s. 

Days  and  moments  quickly  flying 

Blend  the  living  with  the  dead ; 
Soon  shall  we  who  sing  be  lying, 

Each  within  our  narrow  bed. 

2  Soon  our  souls  to  God  who  gave  them 
Will  have  sped  their  rapid  flight ; 

Able  now  by  ^race  to  save  them, 
Oh,  that  while  we  can  we  might ! 

3  Jesus,  infinite  Redeemer, 
Maker  of  this  mighty  frame, 

Teach,  oh  !  teach  us  to  remember  ' 

What  we  are  and  whence  we  came : — 

4  Whence  we  came  and  whither  wending; 
Soon  we  must  through  darkness  go, 

To  inherit  bliss  unending, 
Or  eternity  of  woe. 

From  the  Masque  of  Mary  and  Other 
Poems,  1858,  by  Rev.  Edward  Caswall.  This 
is  one  of  the  most  effective  pieces  of  the 
kind  to  be  used  on  the  last  Sabbath  of  the 
year.     The  Scripture  allusion  in  the  closing 


stanza  is  to  Ecclesiastes  11  :  3 :  "  And  if  the 
tree  fall  toward  the  south,  or  toward  the 
north,  in  the  place  where  the  tree  falleth 
there  it  shall  be." 

M6I  National  Song.  6s,  4s. 

Mv  country!  'tis  of  thee, 
Sweet  land  of  liberty, 

Of  thee  I  sing  ; 
Land  where  my  fathers  died  ! 
Land  of  the  Pilgrims'  pride  !  \ 

From  every  mountain-side 

Let  freedom  ring ! 

2  My  native  country,  thee — 
Land  of  the  noble,  free — 

Thy  name  I  love  ; 
I  love  thy  rocks  and  rills, 
Thy  woods  and  templed  hills ; 
My  heart  with  rapture  thrills 

Like  that  above. 

3  Let  music  swell  the  breeze. 
And  ring  from  all  the  trees 

Sweet  freedom's  song: 
Let  mortal  tongues  awake ; 
Let  all  that  breathe  partake ; 
Let  rocks  their  silence  break — 

The  sound  prolong. 

4  Our  fathers'  God  !  to  thee. 
Author  of  liberty, 

To  thee  we  sing : 
Long  may  our  land  be  bright 
With  freedom's  holy  light ; 
Protect  us  by  thy  might, 

Great  God,  our  King  ! 

It  is  likely  that  this  would  be  pronounced 
the  best  known  and  of  course  the  most  popu- 
lar of  all  the  hymns  Dr.  Samuel  Francis 
Smith  has  written.  If  it  be  not  universally 
admitted  now  that  it  is  our  national  hymn,  it 
certainly  must  be  confessed  that  it  is  the 
nearest  to  it  of  all  the  religious  lyrics  we  pos- 
sess. The  story  of  its  composition  is  thus 
told  by  the  author.  It  was  first  published  in 
the  Psalmist,  1 843.  He  says  it  "  was  written 
in  1832.  I  found  the  tune  in  a  German 
music-book  brought  to  this  country  by  the 
late  William  C.  Woodbridge,  and  put  into 
my  hands  by  Lowell  Mason,  because  (so  he 
said)  I  could  read  German  books  and  he 
could  not.  It  is,  however,  not  a  translation, 
but  the  expression  of  my  thought  at  the  mo- 
ment of  glancing  at  the  tune."  Of  the  music, 
to  which  in  our  land  the  words  are  usually 
sung,  it  is  perhaps  worth  while  to  say  that  its 
real  origin  is  not  known.  It  is  used  in  Great 
Britain  as  "  God  Save  the  King,"  and  is 
considered  the  national  song.  The  name 
"  America "  was  added  by  Lowell  Mason, 
who  arranged  it  for  use  in  our  country. 
Some  consider  it  as  an  amendment  made  by 
Henry  Carey,  near  the  end  of  the  seventeenth 
or  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
from  Dr.  John  Bull,  who  died  in  1622.  The 
tune  was  first  published  in  England  in  honor 
of  George  II.     But  French  critics  claim  that 


492 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


the  original  music  was  composed  by  Lulli, 
and  that  it  was  sung  by  300  young  ladies  be- 
fore Louis  XIV.  at  St.  Cyr,  where  Handel 
found  it  in  1721.  They  even  go  so  far  as  to 
insist  that  the  words  were  composed  by 
Madame  de  Brinon,  the  Mother  Superior,  be- 
ginning "Grand  Dieu,  satevez  le  Rot." 

I  1 62  -^  bright  summer  day.  6s,  5s. 

Summer  suns  are  glowing 

Over  land  and  sea ; 
Happy  light  is  flowing 

Bountiful  and  free. 
Everything  rejoices 

In  the  mellow  rays ; 
All  earth's  thousand  voices 

Swell  the  psalm  of  praise. 

2  God's  free  mercy  streameth 
Over  all  the  world, 

And  his  banner  gleameth 

Everywhere  unfurled. 
Broad  and  deep  and  glorious. 

As  the  heaven  above^ 
Shines  in  might  victorious 

His  eternal  love. 

3  Lord,  upon  our  blindness 
Thy  pure  radiance  pour; 

For  thy  loving-kindness 

Makes  us  love  thee  more. 
And  when  clouds  are  drifting 

Dark  across  our  sky. 
Then,  the  vail  uplifting, 

Father,  be  thou  nigh. 

4  We  will  never  doubt  thee. 
Though  thou  vail  thy  light ; 

Life  is  dark  without  thee ; 

Death  with  thee  is  bright. 
Light  of  li^ht !  shine  o'er  us 

On  our  pilgrim  way  ; 
Go  thou  still  before  us 

To  the  endless  day. 

From  the  Church  Hymns  of  the  Society 
for  the  Promotion  of  Christian  Knowledge, 
1871  ;  it  is  one  of  Bishop  William  Walsham 
How's  compositions,  designed  for  children  at 
first,  but  taken  up  easily  into  the  songs  and 
memories  of  all  those  who  wish  to  praise 
God  with  the  heart  and  the  understanding 
also. 


I  163  Glad  Thanksgiving. 

On  our  way  rejoicing, 

Homeward  as  we  move, 
Hearken  to  our  praises, 

O  thou  God  of  love  ! 
Is  there  grief  or  sadness, 

Firm  our  trust  shall  be ; 
Is  our  sky  beclouded, 

Light  shall  come  from  thee. 

2  If,  with  honest-hearted 
Love  for  God  and  man, 

Day  by  day  thou  find  us 
Doing  what  we  can, 

Thou,  who  givest  seed-time. 
Wilt  give  large  increase. 

Crown  our  heads  with  blessing, 
Fill  our  hearts  with  peace. 

3  Jesus  Christ  hath  triumphed, 
Vanquished  is  our  foe ; 

On  our  way  rejoicing  . 
Gladly  let  us  go. 


6s,  5s. 


Christ  without— our  safety; 

Christ  within— our  joy  ; 
Who,  if  we  be  faithful. 

Can  our  hope  destroy? 

4  Unto  God  the  Father 

Joyful  songp  we  sing; 
Unto  God  the  Saviour 

Thankful  hearts  we  bring ; 
Unto  God  the  Spirit 

Bow  we  and  adore, 
On  our  way  rejoicing, 

Now  and  evermore ! 

Written  by  Rev.  John  Samuel  Bewley  Mon- 
sell,  LL.  D.,  and  published  in  his  Hymns  of 
Lffve  and  Praise,  1863.  It  has  several  more 
stanzas  than  could  be  made  available  here,  as 
it  was  designed  to  be  a  processional.  The 
title  affixed  to  it  is  "  A  Song  of  joy,"  and  the 
reference  is  made  to  Acts  8  :  39. 

I  1 64  New  Year.  6s,  5s. 

Standing  at  the  portal 

Of  the  opening  year. 
Words  of  comfort  meet  us, 

Hushing  ever  fear : 
Spoken  through  the  silence 

By  our  Father's  voice. 
Tender,  strong,  and  faithful, 

Making  us  rejoice. 

Cho. — Onward  then,  and  fear  not,  Children  of  the  Day  ! 
For  his  word  shall  never.  Never  pass  away. 

2  "  I  the  Lord  am  with  thee. 
Be  thou  not  afraid  ! 

I  will  help  and  strengthen. 

Be  thou  not  dismayed  ! 
Ves,  I  will  uphold  thee 

With  my  own  right  hand  !  « 

Thou  art  called  and  chosen 

In  my  sight  to  stand." — Cho. 

3  He  will  never  fail  us, 
He  will  not  forsake. 

His  eternal  covenant 

He  will  never  break  : 
Resting  on  his  promise. 

What  have  we  to  fear? 
God  is  .\I1-Sufficient 

For  the  coming  year  ! — Cho. 

Mi.ss  Frances  Ridley  Havergal  wrote  this 
hymn  January  4,  1873,  and  published  it  in  her 
Under  the  Surface,  1874.  She  entitled  it, 
"  Faithful  Promises,"  and  referred  to  Isaiah 
41:10:  "  Fear  thou  not ;  for  I  am  with  thee: 
be  not  dismayed ;  for  I  am  thy  God ;  I  will 
strengthen  thee ;  yea,  I  will  help  thee  ;  \  ea,  I 
will  uphold  thee  with  the  right  hand  of  my 
righteousness." 

I  1 65  Harvest  Hymn.  6s,  5s. 

Earth  below  is  teeming. 

Heaven  is  bright  above ; 
Every  brow  is  beaming 

In  the  light  of  love: 
Every  eye  rejoices. 

Every  thought  is  praise ; 
Happy  hearts  and  voices 

Gladden  nights  and  days  : 

Cho.—O  Almighty  Giver,  Bountiful  and  free! 

As  the  joy  in  harvest,  Joy  we  before  thee. 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


493 


2  For  the  sun  and  showers, 
P'or  the  rain  and  dew, 

For  the  happy  hours 

Spring  and  summer  knew  ; 
For  the  golden  autumn 

And  its  precious  stores, 
For  the  love  that  brought  them 

Teeming  to  our  doors. — Cho. 

3  Earth's  broad  harvest  whitens 
In  a  brighter  Sun 

Than  the  orb  that  lightens 

All  we  tread  upon  : 
Send  out  laborers.  Father ! 

Where  fields  ripening  wave ; 
And  the  nations  gather. 

Gather  in  and  save. — Cho. 

This  is  by  Rev.  John  Samuel  Bewley  Monsell, 
LL.  D.,  and  is  found  in  his  Hymns  of  Love 
and  Praise,  London  Edition,  1863.  He  calls 
it  a  "  Harvest  Hymn,"  and  makes  reference 
to  Isaiah  9:3. 

I  1 66  Harvest  Thanksgiving.  P.  M. 

We  plough  the  fields,  and  scatter 

^^        The  good  seed  on  the  land, 

"~  But  it  is  fed  and  watered 
By  God's  almighty  hand  : 
He  sends  the  snow  in  winter, 

The  warmth  to  swell  the  grain. 
The  breezes,  and  the  sunshine. 
And  soft  refreshing  rain. 

Ref. — All  good  gifts  around  us 

Are  sent  from  heaven  above ; 
Th^n  thank  the  Lord,  oh,  thank  the  Lord 
For  all  his  love. 

2  He  only  is  the  Maker 

Of  all  things  near  and  far; 
He  paints  the  wayside  flower. 

He  lights  the  evening  stari 
The  winds  and  waves  obey  hlm^ 

By  him  the  birds  are  fed  : 
Much  more  to  us,  his  children, 

He  gives  our  daily  bread. — Ref. 

3  We  thank  thee  then,  O,  Father, 
For  all  things  bright  and  good, 

The  seed-time  and  the  harvest. 

Our  life,  our  health,  our  food. 
No  gifts  have  we  to  off"er 

For  all  thy  love  imparts. 
But  that  which  thou  desirest, 

Our  humble,  thankful  hearts. — Ref. 

This  is  a  translation  by  Miss  Jane  M.  Camp- 
bell, who  was  born  in  London,  181 7,  and  died 
at  Bovey  Tracey,  November  15,  1878.  She 
was  the  daughter  of  an  English  clergyman, 
and  her  life  seems  to  have  been  merged  in 
the  work  of  her  father's  parish.  In  1861  she 
contributed  to  the  Rev.  C.  S.  Here's  Garland 
of  Songs;  or  an  English  Uederkranz,  a 
number  of  translations  from  the  German. 
The  best  known  of  these  is  the  hymn  given 
here,  which  is  a  version  of  a  harvest  song, 
"  Im  Anfang  war's  auf  Erden,"  by  Mat- 


thias Claudius,  a  scholar  and  newspaper 
editor,  who  was  born  at  Reinfeld  near  Lii- 
beck,  August  15, 1740,  and  died  at  Hamburg, 
January  21,  181 5.  He  wrote  many  poem.s, 
but  only  this  one  has  passed  into  general 
use  in  English,  although  a  few  of  them  are 
found  in  Lutheran  hymn  books. 

I  167  John  11:  12.  p.  M. 

"  Lord,  if  he  sleep,  he  shall  do  well !" 
Why  should  we  weep?  why  should  a  knell, 
Dirging  and  deep,  over  him  swell  ? 
He  shall  do  well ! 

2  Long  was  his  way,  rugged  and  drear : 
All  his  sad  day  trouble  was  near — 
Now  doth  he  lay  every  load  here ! 

He  shall  do  well ! 

3  Nobly  he  wrought ;  strongly  he  ran  ; 
Bravely  he  fought,  fought  in  the  van  : 

Rest  hath  he  sought — he  was  but  man  !  1 

He  shall  do  well! 

4  Till  the  day  break,  here  let  him  be; 
Then  shall  he  wake,  glorious  and  free. 
For  thy  dear  sake,  like  unto  thee ! 

He  shall  do  well ! 

Taken  from  Lyra  Hibertiica  Sacra,  second 
edition,  1879.  It  was  written  by  Rev.  Wil- 
liam Pollock,  D.  D.,  a  clergyman  of  the 
Church  of  England.  He  was  born  April  22, 
1812,  vicar  of  Bowden  in  Cheshire,  1856,  Arch- 
deacon of  Chester,  1867,  and  died  October  11, 
1873.  The  Scripture  reference  of  the  hymn 
is  to  John  11:12:  "  Then  said  his  disciples. 
Lord,  if  he  sleep,  he  shall  do  well." 


i  168 


The  waters  stilled. 


P.  M. 


Fierce  was  the  wild  billow,  dark  was  the  night. 
Oars  labored  heavily,  foam  glittered  white, 
Trembled  the  mariners,  peril  was  nigh  : 
Then  said  the  God  of  God — "  Peace!  it  is  II  " 

2  Ridge  of  the  mountain-wave,  lower  thy  crest ! 
Wail  of  the  tempest-wind,  be  thou  at  rest ! 
Sorrow  can  never  be,  darkness  must  fly. 

Where  saith  the  Light  of  Light — "  Peace  !  it  is  I ! " 

3  Jesus,  deliverer,  near  us  to  be, 
Soothe  thou  our  voyaging  over  life's  sea; 

Thou,  when  the  storm  of  death  roars,  sweeping  by. 
Whisper,  thou  Truth  of  Truth— "  Peace!  it  is  I !  " 

The  original  poem  from  which  this  is  trans- 
lated was  composed  in  Greek  by  Anatolius, 
one  of  those  writers  in  the  seventh  or  eighth 
centuries  of  whom  so  little  is  known.  He  wrote 
as  many  as  a  hundred  pieces  of  poetry,  and 
is  said  to  have  been  a  pupil  of  Theodore  of 
the  Studium.  The  version  before  us  was 
made  by  Rev.  John  Mason  Neale,  D.  D.,  and 
published  in  his  Hym7isof  the  Eastern  Church, 
1862.  The  Scripture  reference  is  to  Mark 
4:37-41- 


494 


BAPTIST    HYMNS. 


ADDITIONAL  HYMNS 
IN  THE  BAPTIST  EDITION:  LAUDES  DOMINI. 


994  Imitatton  of  Christ.  L.  M. 

Come,  happy  souls,  adore  the  Lamb, 
Who  loved  our  race  ere  time  began, 
Who  vailed  his  Godhead  in  our  clay, 
And  in  an  humble  manger  lay. 

2  To  Jordan's  stream  the  Spirit  led, 

To  mark  the  path  his  saints  should  tread  ; 
With  joy  they  trace  the  sacred  way, 
To  see  the  place  where  Jesus  lay. 

3  Baptized  by  John  in  Jordan's  wave, 
The  Saviour  left  his  waterv  grave ; 

p  Heaven  owned  the  deed,  approved  the  way, 

And  blessed  the  place  where  Jesus  lay. 

4  Come,  all  who  love  his  precious  name, 
Come,  tread  his  steps,  and  learn  of  him; 
Happy  beyond  expression  they 

Who  find  the  place  where  Jesus  lay. 

This  piece  was  written  by  Rev.  Thomas 
Baldwin,  D.  D..  and  published  in  A  Collection 
of  Sacred  and  Dez'oiwnal  Hymns,  Boston, 
i8o8.  It  began  originally  with  the  line,  "  Ye 
happy  saints,  the  Lamb  adore."  It  has  always 
been  a  favorite  in  the  Baptist  denomination, 
and  has  had  force  to  cross  the  ocean  and 
find  a  place  in  Our  Own  Hymn-Book,  edited 
by  Rev.  C.  H.  Spurgeon,  i866. 

The  author  was  bom  in  Bozrah,  Conn.,  De- 
cember 23,  1753.  He  united  with  the  Baptist 
church  in  1780,  and  was  ordained  as  an  evan- 
gelist in  June,  1 783.  He  itinerated  for  some 
years,  acting  as  a  sort  of  missionary  to  the 
weak  congregations,  until  in  1790  he  became 
the  installed  pastor  of  the  Second  Baptist 
Church  in  Boston.  He  was  editor  of  the 
Americati  Baptist  Missionary  Magazine  un- 
til his  death,  which  occurred  at  Waterville, 
Me.,  August  29,  1825. 

955  "  Buried  with  Him."  L.  M. 

Buried  in  baptism  with  our  Lord, 
We  rise  with  him,  to  life  restored ; 
Not  the  bare  life  in  Adam  lost, 
But  richer  far,  for  more  it  cost. 

2  Water  can  cleanse  the  flesh,  we  own, 
But  Christ  well  knows,  and  Christ  alone. 
How  dear  to  him  our  cleansing  stood. 
Baptized  in  fire,  and  bathed  in  blood. 

3  He  by  his  blood  atoned  for  sin  ; 
This  precious  blood  can  wash  us  clean ; 
Arid  he  arrays  us  in  the  dress 

Of  his  unspotted  righteousness. 

The  names  of  authors  and  translators  are 
in  most  cases  omitted  from  the  pieces  in 
the  Moravian  Liturgy  and  Hymns,  1849,  from 
which  this  composition  is  taken.     It  seems  to 


be  a  cento,  part  of  which  was  the  work  of 
Rev.  Joseph  Hart. 


956  The  Pleasant  Path. 

Our  Saviour  bowed  beneath  the  wave. 
And  meekly  sought  a  \vater\-  grave ; 
Come,  see  the  sacred  path  lie  trod, 
A  path  well  pleasing  to  our  God. 

2  His  voice  we  hear,  his  footsteps  trace, 
And  hither  come  to  seek  his  face. 

To  do  his  will,  to  feel  his  love. 

And  join  our  songs  with  songs  above.. 

3  Hosanna  to  the  Lamb  divine! 

Let  endless  glories  round  him  shine ! 
High  o'er  the  heavens  for  ever  reign, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  for  sinners  slain! 


L.  M. 


REV    A.  JUDSON,   D.    D. 

This  hymn  was  written  in  1829  by  Rev. 
Adoniram  Judson,  D.  D.  The  author  was 
one  of  the  most  distinguished  and  useful  mis- 
sionaries to  the  heathen  ever  sent  forth  from 
the  American  churches.  His  father  was  a 
Congregational  minister  in  Maiden,  Mass., 
where  he  was  born  August  9,  1788.  He  did 
not  manifest  much  inclination  for  religious 
life  at  first ;  indeed,  he  was  somewhat  skepti- 
cal. But  in  1808  he  began  study  for  the  min- 
istry at  Andovor  Theological  Seminary,  in  a 


BAPTIST   HYMNS. 


495 


special  course.  His  entire  nature  showed 
radical  change  of  sentiment  and  choice  of 
purpose.  As  early  as  1810  he  decided  to  be- 
come a  preacher  to  the  heathen  in  Burmah, 
and  addressed  a  letter  in  behalf  of  himself 
and  a  few  associates  to  the  London  Mission- 
ary Society,  offering  to  go  into  its  service. 
His  proposition  was  accepted.  On  February 
5,  18 1 2,  he  married  Ann  Haseltine,  of  Brad- 
ford, Mass.,  and  that  same  month  they  sailed 
for  Calcutta.  The  voyage  was  long ;  they 
studied  hard  on  the  way  ;  when  the  ship  ar- 
rived at  its  destination  Dr.  Judson  announced 
his  change  of  views  on  the  subject  of  Chris- 
tian baptism  ;  both  he  and  his  wife  were  im- 
mersed, and  became  Baptists  in  Calcutta. 

This,  of  course,  severed  his  connection  with 
the  Association  that  sent  him  out,  and  they 
were  for  a  while  in  much  uncertainty  as  to 
support.  They  were  not  welcomed  among 
the  brethren  from  whom  they  had  separated 
themselves  ;  they  went  to  the  Isle  of  France, 
then  to  Madras,  then  at  last  to  Burmah.  In 
1814  the  Baptists  of  America  formed  a  Soci- 
ety ;  this  took  the  missionaries  of  their  faith 
under  its  care. 

Th  story  of  this  great  man's  life  during 
the  years  that  followed  is  exciting  and  full  of 
power.  It  cannot  be  told  here.  He  was  per- 
secuted, imprisoned,  and  impoverished.  He 
translated  the  Scriptures  for  the  Karens.  His 
devoted  wife  died  in  Amherst,  India,  in  1826. 
He  worked  on  alone  till  1834;  then  he  mar- 
ried Mrs.  Sarah  Hall  Boardman,  and  removed 
to  Maulmain.  Then  came  more  labors,  more 
persecutions,  more  sufferings.  The  wife  lost 
her  health,  and  her  husband  started  with  her 
for  America.  She  died  on  the  way,  and  was 
buried  on  the  island  of  St.  Helena,  September 
I,  1845.  He  continued  the  voyage  with  the 
children,  and  landed  in  Boston.  The  next 
year  he  returned  to  Maulmain,  taking  with 
him  "  Fanny  Forrester,"  the  pet  of  the  liter- 
ary world,  Miss  Emily  Chubbuck.  They 
were  married  June  2,  1846 ;  and  now  followed 
the  story  of  a  new  course  of  work  and  sacri- 
fice. But  health  failed,  and  a  sea-voyage  was 
prescribed.  On  the  way  to  the  Isle  of  P'rance 
the  famous  missionary  died,  April  12,  1850, 
and  was  buried  in  the  ocean. 


957  Invocation. 

Come,  Holy  Spirit,  Dove  divine. 
On  these  baptismal  waters  shine, 
And  teach  our  hearts^  in  highest  strain, 
To  praise  the  Lamb  for  sinners  slain. 

2  We  love  thy  name,  we  love  thy  laws, 
And  joyfully  embrace  thy  cause ; 
We  love  thy  cross,  the  shame,  the  pain, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  lor  sinners  slain  I 


L.  M. 


3  We  sink  beneath  thy  mystic  flood. 
Oh,  bathe  us  in  thy  cleansing  blood  ; 
We  die  to  sin,  and  seek  a  grave 
With  thee,  beneath  the  yielding  wave. 

4  And  as  we  rise,  with  thee  to  live. 
Oh,  let  the  Holy  Spirit  give 

The  sealing  unction  from  above, 
The  breath  of  life,  the  fire  of  love  ! 

This  is  also  the  work  of  Dr.  Adoniram 
Judson,  and  is  found  in  Winchell's  Collection, 
1832.  Perhaps  it  might  as  well  be  said  here, 
as  a  fit  conclusion  of  the  author's  history, 
that  "  Fanny  Forrester  "  did  not  hear  of  his 
death  at  sea  until  four  months  afterwards. 
She  embarked  for  the  United  States,  Janu- 
ary 22,  1851,  taking  with  her  the  rest  of  the 
broken  family.  Arriving  in  America,  she  set 
up  a  home  in  Hamilton,  N.  Y.,  into  which 
she  gathered  all  her  husband's  children  that 
were  still  young.  She  wrote  biographies, 
poems,  stories,  until  her  health  broke  down, 
and  she  died  of  consumption,  June  i,  1854. 


958 


Following  Jesus. 


O  THOU  who  in  Jordan  didst  bow  thy  meek  head. 
And  whelmed  in  our  sorrow,  didst  sink  to  the  dead. 
Then  rose  from  the  darkn,ess  to  glory  above, 
And  claimed  for  thy  chosen  the  kingdom  of  love — 

2  Thy  footsteps  we  follow,  to  bow  in  the  tide. 

And  are  buried  with  thee  in  the  death  thou  hast  died,. 
Then  wake  in  thy  likeness  to  walk  in  the  way 
That  brightens  and  brightens  to  shadowless  day. 

3  O  Jesus,  our  Saviour,  O  Jesus,  our  Lord, 

By  the  life  of  thy  passion,  the  grace  of  thy  word, 
Accept  us,  redeem  us,  dwell  ever  within. 
To  keep,  by  thy  Spirit,  our  spirits  from  sin. 

4  Till  crowned  with  thy  glory,  and  waving  the  palm,. 
Our  garments  all  white  from  the  blood  of  the  Lamb, 
We  join  rhe  bright  millions  of  saints  gone  before. 
And  bless  thee,  and  wonder,  and  praise  evermore. 

Written  by  Rev,  George  Washington  Be- 
thune,  D.  D.,  of  the  Reformed  Dutch  Church 
on  the  Heights  in  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,  as  a  cour- 
tesy to  his  friend,  Rev.  J.  S.  Holme,  D.  D., 
for  the  Baptist  edition  of  The  Plymouth  Col- 
lection, 1857. 

Some  of  the  most  preposterous  and  absurd 
conceptions  possible  as  to  matters  of  literal 
facts  in  Palestine  appear  in  religious  poetry. 
A  Bible  in  one  of  our  libraries  that  I  myself 
have  seen  has  an  engraving  assuming  to  repre- 
sent the  crossing  of  the  Red  Sea.  It  is  strong, 
full,  vigorous  and  well  drawn,  but  it  arms  the 
Israelite  soldiers  with  modern  guns.  Now 
does  any  one  propose  to  defend  the  artist  and 
demand  a  toleration  of  his  absurdity  as  an 
illustration  of  Scripture  ?  Does  any  one  claim 
that  a  poet,  who  has  made  a  mistake  quite 
as  egregious  in  an  objectionable  epithet,  and 
so  teaches  what  is  not  true,  must  be  allowed 
to  perpetuate  his  error  through  unreckoned 
years   of   singing  praise  ?     In  his   Christian- 


496 


BAPTIST     HYMNS. 


Year,  no  less  a  poet  than  Keble  speaks  of 
mountains  in  the  Holy  Land  as  "  terraced 
high  with  mossy  stone."  Travelers  there 
declare  that  the  stones  on  the  mountains 
shine  with  an  uncovered  whiteness  which 
actually  inflames  one's  eyes  ;  it  is  questioned 
whether  one  could  find  a  piece  of  moss  as 
large  as  his  hand  in  all  that  sultry  region  of 
elevated   ridges  around  the   Jordan  and  the 

Dead  Sea.  The  author  of  these  hymns  in  the 
volume  so  dear  to  many  of  us  says  in  another 
poem :  "  Where  stately  Jordan  flows  by 
many  a  palm."  Now  Jordan  is  a  river  actu- 
ally the  last  in  geography  to  be  called  stately, 
and  Jericho  once  (but  before  Keble  was 
born,  hundreds  of  years)  was  the  city  of 
palms,  yet  it  has  lost  every  vestige  of  them, 
long  and  long  ago.  One  or  two  of  our  party 
ventured  to  go  into  this  tumultuous  current 
for  a  bath.  The  force  of  the  stream  was  so 
extreme  that  this  exercise  appeared  to  be 
more  a  peril  than  a  pleasure,  and  absence  of 
body  for  the  swimmer  was  wiser  even  than 
presence  of  mind.  In  the  heats  of  that  April 
morning  I  saw  nothing  particularly  inviting 
in  the  experience,  either  there  or  at  the  Dead 
Sea  later  on  in  the  day. 

^59  "  Happy  Day:'—Psa.  56  :  12.  L.  M. 

Oh,  happy  day  that  fixed  my  choice 
On  thee,  my  Saviour,  and  my  God  ! 

Well  may  this  glowing  heart  rejoice. 
And  tell  its  raptures  all  abroad. 

2  Oh,  happy  bond,  that  seals  my  vows 
To  him  who  merits  all  my  love  ! 

Let  cheerful  anthems  fill  his  house. 
While  to  that  sacred  shrine  I  move. 

3  'T  is  done,  the  great  transaction  's  done : 
I  am  my  Lord's,  and  he  is  mine : 

He  drew  me,  and  I  followed  on. 
Charmed  to  confess  the  voice  divine. 

"  Rejoicing  in  our  Covenant  Engagements 
to  God  "  is  the  title  this  hymn  bears  in  the 
posthumous  edition  of  Dr.  Philip  Doddridge's 
Hymns,  1755.  Many  alterations  have  been 
made  in  it  since  the  -original  text  was  given 
to  the  public  ;  but  it  remains  a  general  favor- 
ite in  our  churches.  It  well  illustrates  the 
fact  that  even  the  noblest  minds  feel  the 
worth  of  the  simplest  truths  of  the  Gospel, 
when  we  learn  that  this  hymn  was  chosen  by 
His  Highness  Prince  Albert,  the  consort  of 
Queen  Victoria,  to  be  used  always  as  a  con- 
firmation hymn  in  the  royal  family. 

960  Genesis  24  :  56.  C.  M. 

In  all  my  Lord's  appointed  ways 

My  journey  I  '11  pursue  ; 
Hinder  me  not,  ye  much-loved  saints, 

For  I  must  go  with  you. 

2  Through  floods  and  flames,  if  Jesus  lead, 

I  '11  follow  where  he  goes ; 
Hinder  me  not !  shall  be  my  cry. 

Though  earth  and  hell  oppose 


3  Through  duties,  and  through  trials  too, 
I  '11  go  at  his  command  ; 

Hinder  me  not !  for  I  am  bound 
To  my  Immanuel's  land. 

4  And  when  my  Saviour  calls  me  home. 
Still  this  my  cry  shall  be, 

Hinder  me  not !  come,  welcome  death  ; 
I  '11  gladly  go  with  thee ! 


DR.   JOHN  RYLAND. 

Rev.  John  Ryland,  D.  D.,  the  author  of  this 
hymn,  was  born  at  Warwick  in  England,  Jan- 
uary 29,  1753.  His  father.  Rev.  John  Collett 
Ryland,  was  minister  of  the  Baptist  church 
there,  but  in  1759  moved  to  Northampton, 
and  ultimately  the  son,  having  grown  up  and 
been  ordained,  became  associated  with  his 
father  there.  By  and  by  he  ceased  to  be  co- 
pastor,  and  going  to  Bristol  took  the  charge 
of  the  Baptist  congregation  in  Broadmead, 
and  also  the  presidency  of  the  denominational 
College.  Both  of  these  places  he  held  till  his 
death.  May  25,  1825.  He  wa§  a  man  of  much 
force  and  note. 

Concerning  this  hymn,  so  familiar  in  the 
Baptist  denomination  over  the  world,  D. 
Sedgwick  records  that  Dr.  Ryland's  son  in- 
formed him  in  1861  that  it  was  composed 
"  with  a  slate-pencil  on  a  rusty  iron  blower 
by  moonlight,  past  twelve  o'clock,  December 
30,  1773.  But  Miller  tells  us  that  the  first 
line  of  the  long  poem  was,  "  When  Abraham's 
servant,  to  procure,"  and  he  adds  that  it "  was 
composed  in  1773,  during  the  preaching  of  a 
sermon  on  the  words,  '  Hinder  me  not' (Gen- 
esis 24  :  56),  words  that  are  repeated  .in  every 
verse  except  the  first.  The  sermon  was 
preached  by  a  brother  minister  who  was  on 
his  way  through  Northampton,  and  who  was 
detained  by  Dr.  Ryland  somewhat  against 
his  will.  The  hymn  appeared  in  the  Gospel 
Magazine  for  May,  1775.  It  consists  of  nine 
stanzas,  and  has  the  signature,  Elachistoteros." 
Afterwards  when  it  was  repeated  in  Rippon's 


BAPTIST    HYMNS. 


497 


Selection,  1787,  the  note  is  added, "  This  hymn 
may  begin  with  verse  6."  Thus  it  has  come 
to  pass  that  the  hymn  is  commonly  known 
as  "  I  nail  my  Lord's  appointed  ways." 


961 


This  is  my  Son." 


C.  M. 


'T  is  God  the  Father  we  adore 

In  this  baptismal  sign  ; 
'T  is  he  whose  voice  on  Jordan's  shore 

Proclaimed  the  Son  divine. 

2  The  Father  owned  him  ;  let  our  breath 
In  answering  praise  ascend 

As  in  the  image  of  his  death 
We  own  our  heavenly  Friend. 

3  We  seek  the  consecrated  grave 
Along  the  path  he  trod ; 

Receive  us  in  the  hallowed  wave, 
Thou  holy  Son  of  God. 

4  Let  earth  and  heaven  our  zeal  record, 
And  future  witness  bear  : 

That  we  to  Zion's  mighty  Lord 
Our  hill  allegiance  swear. 

Mrs.  Maria  Grace  Saffery,  the  author  of 
this  hymn,  was  born  in  1773,  and  died  March, 
1858.  She  was  a  minister's  daughter  and  a 
minister's  wife.  Her  husband  was  the  pastor 
of  the  Baptist  Church  in  Salisbury,  England, 
and  her  son  entered  the  ministry  also.  The 
hymn  now  before  us  was  published  in  the 
A^ew  Selection,  made  for  the  Baptists  in  Brit- 
ain, 1828. 

962  Glad  obedience.  C.  M. 

While  in  this  sacred  rite  of  thine 

We  yield  our  spirits  now, 
Shine  o'er  the  waters,  Dove  divine, 

And  seal  the  cheerful  vow. 

2  All  glory  be  to  him  whose  life 
For  ours  was  freely  given. 

Who  aids  us  in  the  spirit's  strife. 
And  makes  us  meet  for  heaven. 

3  To  thee  we  gladly  now  resign 
Our  life  and  all  our  powers  : 

Accept  us  in  this  rite  divine. 
And  bless  these  hallowed  hours. 

Rev.  Samuel  Francis  Smith,  D.  D.,  is  not 
only  a  faithful  and  patriotic  citizen,  putting 
his  heart  into  "  My  country,  't  is  of  thee," 
but  he  is  also  a  devoted  Baptist,  full  of  unsec- 
tarian  love  of  his  denomination  and  kind 
fellowship  for  all  the  other  children  of  God. 
While  we  are  writing  this  annotation,  it  is 
pleasant  to  read  in  the  journals  that  he  is  en- 
joying a  "  reception "  in  Chicago,  given  in 
his  honor  on  a  passing  visit  at  the  West. 
Here  we  have  him  in  his  new  phase,  with 
a  characteristic  hymn  which  he  contributed 
to  the  Psalmist  in  1843. 


963 


Jesus'  Baptism. 


C.  M. 


Meekly  in  Jordan's  holy  stream 

The  great  Redeemer  bowed ; 
Bright  was  the  glory's  sacred  beam 

That  hushed  the  wondering  crowd. — Cho. 


2  Thus  God  descended  to  approve 
The  deed  that  Christ  had  done : 

Thus  came  the  emblematic  Dove, 
And  hovered  o'er  the  Sou.^-Cho. 

3  So,  blessed  Spirit,  come  to-day 
To  our  baptismal  scene; 

Let  thoughts  of  earth  be  far  away, 
And  every  mind  serene. — Cho. 

Another  of  Rev.  Dr.  Samuel  Francis 
Smith's  hymns.  It  appeared  first  in  the 
Psalmist,  1843,  and  afterwards  was  in- 
cluded in  the  pieces  chosen  for  the  Lyra 
Sacra  Americana,  1868.  It  may  be  well 
enough  to  add  a  mere  note  concerning  the 
site  of  the  baptism  of  our  Lord.  Things 
have  changed  much  lately  in  that  vicinity. 
There  are  two  hotels  for  tourists  close  by  the 
old  stream  now  in  the  plain  of  Jericho ! 
After  the  somewhat  overheated  and  discour- 
aging experience  of  waiting  that  forenoon,  as 
the  sun  mounted  and  filled  the  air  with  heat 
and  pestiferous  insects,  and  after  the  recollec- 
tion of  the  frightfully  arid  and  sterile  plains 
and  gulleys  which  we  crossed  before  the 
dawn,  I  confess  we  were  all  rather  poorly  pre- 
pared to  realize  that  these  exact  precincts,  so 
parched  and  verdureless,  were  the  welcome 
meadows  on  which  the  tribes  gazed  as  they 
first  entered  Canaan.  Since  then  there  must 
have  been  great  changes,  as  elsewhere  in  the 
Holy  Land,  as  to  the  fertility  of  the  entire 
neighborhood.  Nevertheless,  the  grand  nat- 
ural features  are  there.  The  lay  of  the 
country  is  suggestive  ;  many  of  the  present 
forms  of  vegetation  are  new.  Oleanders, 
which  are  the  most  openly  conspicuous  of  the 
shrubby  trees  by  the  Jordan,  have  not  so 
much  as  once  been  mentioned  anywhere  in 
the  Bible.  Some  of  the  plants  seem  quite 
strange  and  some  of  the  flowers  are  unfamil- 
iar. No  doubt  irrigation  could  do  a  great 
deal  to  render  this  plain  prolific,  even  at  the 
present  day.  History  tells  us  that  in  the 
years  of  the  crusades  really  the  chief  part  of 
the  cereals  used  for  food  was  grown  in  the 
broad  grain-fields  around  the  site  of  ancient 
Jericho  ;  and  the  Scripture  itself  records  that 
in  Abram's  time  the  plain  of  Jordan  was  well 
watered  everywhere  "  even  as  the  garden  of 
the  Lord."  The  prospect  from  the  other 
bank  of  the  stream,  therefore,  must  have  been 
very  beautiful.  Just  then  one  of  our  singers 
beside  me  began  the  familiar  hymn,  and  all 
of  us,  with  appreciative  hearts,  joined  in  the 
bright  chorus : 

"  For,  oh,  we  stand  on  Jordan's  strand. 
Our  friends  are  passing  over. 
And  just  before  the  shining  shore 
We  may  almost  discover." 

32 


498 


OPENING   OF   SERVICE. 


ADDITIONAL   HYMN 
IN  THE  BAPTIST  EDITION  OF  THE  NEW  LAUDES  DOMINI. 


1 0 1 6  The  Hallowed  Wave. 

This  rite  our  blest  Redeemer  gave 

To  all  in  him  believing ; 
He  leads  us  through  this  hallowed  wave, 

To  his  example  cleaving. 

2  I  '11  follow  then  my  glorious  Lord, 
Whate'er  the  ties  I  sever  ; 

He  saved  my  soul,  and  left  his  word 
To  guide  me  now  and  ever. 

3  For  me  the  cross  and  shame  to  bear, 
Dear  Saviour,  thou  wast  willing ; 

Nor  would  I  shrink  thy  yoke  to  wear. 
All  righteousness  fulfilling. 


p_  M.  4  Jesus,  to  thee  I  yield  my  all : 

In  thy  kind  arms  enfolH  me  ; 
My  heart  is  fixed — no  fears  appall — 
Thy  gracious  power  shall  hold  me. 

5  How  sweet  the  way  divine  to  take. 

So  clear  in  Jordan's  story; 
On  souls  that  follow  Christ  shall  break 

The  Spirit's  beam  of  glory. 

Rev.  Dr.  S.  Dryden  Phelps  contributed  this 
excellent  piece  to  the  Baptist  Devotional 
Hymn  -  Book,  1864.  It  is  likely  to  be  very 
popular  when  joined  to  the  beautiful  music 
of  Dr.  Dykes. 


ADDITIONAL   HYMNS 
IN   THE   NEW    LAUDES   DOMINI 


25  '' Light  of  Light."  P.M. 

Light  of  Light,  enlighten  me  ! 

Now  anew  the  day  is  dawning ; 
Sun  of  grace,  the  shadows  flee, 

Brighten  thou  my  Sabbath  morning  ! 
With  thy  joyous  sunshine  blest, 
Happy  is  my  day  of  rest. 

2  Kindle  thou  the  sacrifice 
That  upon  my  lips  is  lying ; 

Clear  the  shadows  from  mine  eyes, 

That,  from  ever>'  error  flying. 
No  strange  fire  may  in  me  glow 
That  thine  altar  doth  not  know. 

3  Rest  in  me  and  I  in  thee. 
Build  a  paradise  within  me  ; 

Oh,  reveal  thyself  to  me. 

Blessed  Love,  who  died'st  to  win  me  : 
Fed  from  thine  exhaustless  urn, 
Pure  and  bright  my  lamp  shall  burn. 

This  is  one  of  Miss  Catharine  Winkworth's 
fine  translations,  published  originally  in  her 
Lyra  Germam'ca,  1858.  It  has  since  been  in- 
cluded in  the  hymnals  of  many  different  de- 
nominations. The  author  of  the  original  poem 
was  Rev.  Benjamin  Schmolck,  who  was  born 
in  a  village  in  Silesia,  December  21,  1672.  He 
studied  theology  at  the  University  of  Leipzig, 
graduating  in  1697,  and  immediately  after  re- 
turning home  was  ordained  assistant  pastor 
in  his  father's  parish.  In  consequence  of  the 
Counter- Reformation  in  Silesia,  the  churches 
in  the  principality  of  Schweidnitz,  where  he 
had  been  appointed  in  1702  as  diaconus,  were 
taken  from  the  Lutherans  by  the  Catholics, 
and  for  that  entire  district  they  were  allowed 
only  one  church.  This  had  to  be  constructed 
of  timber  and  clay,  without  tower  or  bells,  and 


located  outside  of  the  town  walls.  Only  three 
clergymen  were  attached  to  this  church,  which 
had  to  supply  the  needs  of  the  population  in 
thirty-six  villages,  and  in  this  laborious  field 
Schmolck  passed  the  remainder  of  his  life, 
dying  after  a  long  illness,  February'  12,  1737. 
He  was  the  most  popular  hymn-writer  of  his 
time,  having  composed  more  than  nine  hun- 
dred poems,  many  of  which  were  rapidly  taken 
into  popular  favor  in  Germany,  and  have  re- 
tained a  place  up  to  the  present  time. 

26  "Fount  of  Joy."  P.  M. 

Fount  of  all  our  joy  and  peace, 

To  thy  living  waters  lead  me ; 
Thou  from  earth  my  soul  release. 

And  with  grace  and  mercy  feed  me ; 
Bless  thy  Word  that  it  may  prove 
Rich  in  fruits  that  thou  dost  love. 

2  Hence  all  care,  all  vanity, 
For  the  day  to  God  is  holy : 

Come,  thou  glorious  Majesty, 

Deign  to  fill  this  temple  lowly ; 
Naught  to-day  my  soul  shall  move. 
Simply  resting  in  thy  love. 

3  Let  me  with  my  heart  to-day. 
Holy,  Holy,  Holy,  singing. 

Rapt  awhile  from  earth  away, 

All  my  soul  to  thee  up-springing, 
Have  a  foretaste  inly  given 
How  they  worship  thee  in  heaven. 

This  hymn  is  a  portion  of  the  preceding 
one.  The  German  original  being  too  long  for 
ordinary  use,  it  has  been  necessary  to  divide 
it,  and  omit  one  stanza.  The  piece  was  writ- 
ten in  1 7 14.  and  designed  for  morning  prayer 
on  Sundays. 


OPENING   OF   SERVICE. 


499 


90 


Morning  Praise. 


IIS,  5. 


Behold,  the  shade  of  night  is  now  receding. 
Kindling  with  splendors  fair  the  dawn  is  glowing. 
With  fervent  hearts,  oh,  let  us  all  implore  him— 
Ruler  Almighty : 

2  That  he,  our  God,  will  look  on  us  in  pity, 

Send  strength  for  weakness,  grant  us  his  salvation. 
And  with  a  Father's  pure  affection  give  us 
Glory  eternal. 

3  This  grace,  oh,  grant  us.  Godhead  Ever-bless6d, 
Of  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost  in  union. 

Whose  praises  be  through  earth's  most  distant  regions 
Ever  resounding ! 

From  three  Latin  manuscripts  of  the  elev- 
enth century,  now  in  the  British  Museum,  we 
learn  that  the  original  of  the  hymn  we  quote, 
"  Ecce  jam  noctis  tenuatur  umbra,"  was  writ- 
ten by  St.  Gregory  the  Great,  the  famous 
Pope  who  sent  St.  Augustine  on  his  mission 
to  Britain  to  convert  the  savage  islanders. 
The  English  version  is  the  work  of  Dr.  Ray 
Palmer,  who  gave  it  to  the  singing  public  in 
1869  in  Hymns  of  the  Church.  In  this  in- 
stance it  seems  as  if  the  translator  had  been 
making  an  experiment  in  reducing  the  meas- 
ure and  form  of  the  medieeval  hymn  to  the 
regimen  of  our  vernacular  meter.  He  has 
made  an  excellent  success ;  for  the  whole 
strain  is  so  musical  that  we  hardly  observe  it 
is  rhYmeless. 

91      '  Through  the  Day.  us,  5. 

Bending  before  thee,  let  our  hymn  go  upwards, 
Bright  as  the  sunshine  breaking  from  the  darkness. 
Thee  we  implore  to  ^uard  us  on  our  journey, 
Lord  God  Almighty. 

2  Guard  us  in  toil  when  fainting  in  the  noonday, 
Guard  us  reposing  under  evening  shadows. 
Guard  us  when  midnight  walks  abroad  in  heaven. 

Lord  God  Almighty. 

3  If  the  dread  foe  assail  us  with  temptation, 
Hear  us,  O  Lord,  and  save  us  from  his  danger. 
Oh,  keep  us  pure,  oh,  lead  us  to  thy  presence, 

Lord  God  Almighty. 

4  Glory  to  thee,  O  Father  Everlasting! 
Glory  to  thee,  O  Son  and  Holy  Spirit ! 
One  in  three  persons,  infinite,  unchanging! 

Lord  God  .Almighty. 

Lord  John  Duke  Coleridge  was  born  in 
1 82 1,  and  educated  at  Eton  and  Oxford.  He 
was  called  to  the  Bar  in  1847,  and  after  being 
Recorder  of  Portsmouth  from  1855  to  1865, 
he  became  a  member  of  Parliament  for  E.xe- 
ter  in  the  latter  year.  In  1868  he  was  ap- 
pointed Solicitor-General,  in  1871  Attorney- 
General,  and  Lord  Chief  Justice  of  England. 
He  is  known  as  a  poet  by  the  hymn  here 
quoted,  which  is  one  of  several  written  orig- 
inally for  private  use  in  his  own  family,  and 
published  in  Thring's  Collection,  1880.  They 
are  so  excellent  as  to  cause  regret  that  he  had 
not  been  known  earlier  in  this  field,  and  given 
wider  proof  of  his  power  to  aid  in  the  praises 


of  God's  house.  It  would  arrest  the  attention 
of  almost  every  student  of  habits  and  forms 
of  worship  that  the  English  people  notice  set 
hours  and  fixed  divisions  of  time  in  their  de- 
votions more  than  we  do  in  the  United  States. 


92 


Evening  Praise. 


'Mjd  evening  shadows  let  us  all  be  watching. 
Ever  in  psalms  our  deep  devotion  waking. 
And  with  one  voice  hymns  to  the  Lord,  the  Saviour, 
Sweetly  be  singing. 

2  That  to  the  holy  King  our  songs  ascending, 
We  worthily,  with  all  his  saints,  may  enter 
The  heavenly  temple,  joyfully  partaking 

Life  everlasting. 

3  This  grace,  oh,  grant  us,  Godhead  Ever-bless6d, 
Of  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost  in  union. 

Whose  praises  be  through  earth's  most  distant  regions 
Ever  resounding ! 

Another  hymn  of  St.  Gregory  the  Great, 
"  Node  surgentes  vigilemus  omnes,"  fur- 
nished the  text  from  which  Dr.  Ray  Palmer 
made  the  translation  now  before  us.  Like 
the  Ecce  Jam  noctis  temiatur  umbra,  it  is 
now  to  be  found  in  the  British  Museum  in 
three  eleventh  century  manuscripts,  and  also 
in  a  Spanish  Breviary  of  the  same  date.  Dr. 
Palmer's  hymn,  although  written  in  1869, 
was  not  published  until  later.  It  can  be 
found  in  his  Poems,  1876.  Here  again  he 
has  forced  his  Muse  to  follow  the  Latin  con- 
struction of  the  verses,  and  has  denied  his 
ear,  usually  so  fond  of  the  melody  of  musi- 
cal sound,  and  so  felicitous  in  securing  it 
gracefully,  the  pleasure  of  rhymes  at  the  end 
of  the  lines.  To  compensate  for  this  loss  he 
has  chosen  his  words,  arranged  his  allitera- 
tions, and  fashioned  his  cadences,  with  ex- 
quisite skill.  The  page  upon  which  these 
two  hymns  of  Dr.  Palmer  for  Morning  and 
Evening  occur,  with  that  of  Chief  Justice 
Coleridge  between  them  for  Mid-day,  afford 
a  fine  study  of  the  rhythmical  power  of  our 
mother-tongue. 

98  Rest  at  Eventide.  L.  M. 

At  even,  when  the  sun  was  set. 
The  sick,  O  Lord,  around  thee  lay ; 

Oh,  in  what  divers  pains  they  met ! 
Oh,  with  what  joy  they  went  away ! 

2  Once  more  't  is  eventide,  and  we 
Oppressed  with  various  ills  draw  near: 

What  if  thy  form  we  cannot  see? 
We  know  and  feel  that  thou  art  here. 

3  O  Saviour  Christ,  our  woes  dispel ; 
For  some  are  sick,  and  some  are  sad, 

And  some  have  never  loved  thee  well. 
And  some  have  lost  the  love  they  had. 

4  And  some  have  found  the  world  is  vain, 
Vet  from  the  world  they  break  not  free. 

And  some  have  friends  who  give  them  pain. 
Yet  have  not  sought  a  friend  in  thee. 


500 


EVENING   WORSHIP. 


And  none,  O  Lord,  have  perfect  rest. 
For  none  are  wholly  free  from  sin  ; 
And  they  who  fain  would  serve  thee  best, 
Are  conscious  most  of  wrong  within. 

6  O  Saviour  Christ,  thou  too  art  man ; 
Thou  hast  been  troubled,  tempted,  tried  ; 

Thy  kind  but  searching  glance  can  scan 
The  very  wounds  that  shame  would  hide. 

7  Thy  touch  has  still  its  ancient  power  ; 
No  word  from  thee  can  fruitless  fall ; 

Hear  in  this  solemn  evening  hour. 
And  in  thy  mercy  heal  us  all. 

Rev.  Henry  Twells,  M.  A.,  was  born  in 
1823,  and  graduated  at  St.  Peter's  College, 
Cambridge,  in  1848.  He  took  Holy  Orders 
the  following  year,  and  was  successively  Cu- 
rate of  Great  Berkamsted,  Sub-Vicar  of 
Stratford-on-Avon,  Rector  of  Baldock,  Herts, 
and  of  Waltham-on-the- Wolds,  besides  hold- 
ing the  position  of  Master  in  two  schools.  In 
1884  he  became  an  Honorary  Canon  of  Peter- 
borough Cathedral.  He  is  the  author  of  sev- 
eral excellent  contributions  to  the  collections, 
the  finest  being  the  favorite  evening  hymn 
quoted  above.  It  was  written  for  the  Appen- 
dix to  Hyjnns,  Ancient  and  Modern,  1868, 
and  has  since  been  included  in  nearly  every 
English  collection  published.  The  opening 
line  has  been  subjected  to  several  changes,  its 
original  form  being  "  At  even  ere  the  sun  was 
set."  The  substitution  of  "  ivhe^i  "  is  gen- 
erally accepted  as  the  better  version,  because 
of  the  unlawfulness  with  the  Jews  of  a  gath- 
ering of  diseased  persons  before  the  sun  had 
gone  down  and  the  Sabbath  ended. 

I  28  Looking-  away.  C.  M. 

Hail,  tranquil  hour  of  closing  day ! 

Begone,  disturbing  care ; 
And  look,  my  soul,  from  earth,  away 

To  him  who  heareth  prayer. 

2  How  sweet  the  tear  of  penitence 
Before  his  throne  of  grace ! 

While  to  the  contrite  spirit's  sense 
He  shows  his  smiling  face. 

3  How  sweet,  through  long-remembered  years. 
His  mercies  to  recall. 

And,  pressed  with  wants  and  grief  and  fears. 
To  trust  his  love  for  all ! 

4  How  sweet  to  look  in  thoughtful  hope 
Beyond  this  fading  sky. 

And  hear  him  call  his  children  up 
To  his  fair  home  on  high  ! 

5  Calmly  the  day  forsakes  our  heaven 
To  dawn  beyond  the  west ; 

So  let  my  soul  in  life's  last  even 
Retire  to  glorious  rest. 

In  1845  the  General  Association  of  the 
Congregational  Church  in  Connecticut  ap- 
pointed a  committee  to  compile  Psalms  and 
Hymns  for  Christian  Use  and  Worship.  Of 
this  Dr.  Leonard  Bacon  was  the  associate  of 
Dr.  E.  T.  Fitch.  The  book  was  published 
that  same  year,  and  in  it  appeared  the  piece 


before  us.  It  was  intended  to  take  the  place 
of  that  in  the  Village  Hymns,  1 824,  edited  by 
Rev.  Dr.  Nettleton,  which  was  written  by 
Mrs.  Phoebe  H.  Brown,  "  I  love  to  steal 
awhile  away."  The  jealous  evangelist  seemed 
unwilling  to  part  with  his  treasures,  and  de- 
nied the  use  of  his  copyright.  Dr.  Bacon  fell 
back  upon  his  genius  for  invention  to  supply 
the  lack.  He  "  imitated  "  what  he  desired  so 
much ;  and  he  went  so  close  to  the  matter  he 
copied  that  sometimes  his  success  has  been 
considered  nearly  a  plagiarism.  The  rhyme 
furnished  by  a  collocation  of  "day"  with 
"  away,"  and  of  "  care  "  with  "  prayer ;  "  the 
exact  reproduction  of  the  sentiment  in  each 
stanza  and  line ;  the  sameness  of  meter  and 
movement — these  quite  satisfied  the  need  of 
the  New  England  singers,  and  duly  admon- 
ished the  sainted  Nettleton  that  he  must  not 
grow  churlish,  for  he  was  among  his  dear 
friends  all  the  time.  This  same  process  was 
repeated  in  the  case  of  Mrs.  Hyde's  hymn, 
commencing  "  Dear  Saviour,  if  these  lambs 
should  stray ;  "  and  Dr.  Bacon  prepared  to 
substitute  for  it  the  one  he  printed  in  its  stead, 
"  O  God  of  Abraham,  ever  sure."  But  popu- 
lar sentiment  never  surrendered  its  favorites  ; 
still  some  collections  admitted  both  of  them, 
and  then  sung  the  originals  on  preference. 


132 


Twilight  Prayer. 


7s,  ^s.  D. 


The  hours  of  day  are  over. 

The  evening  calls  us  home  ; 
Once  more  to  thee,  O  Father, 

With  thankful  hearts  we  come; 
For  all  thy  countless  blessings 

We  praise  thy  holy  name. 
And  own  thy  love  unchanging, 

Through  days  and  years  the  same. 

2  For  this,  O  Lord,  we  bless  thee, 
For  this  we  thank  thee  most, 

The  cleansing  of  the  sinful. 

The  saving  of  the  lost : 
The  Teacher  ever  present. 

The  Friend  for  ever  nigh. 
The  home  prepared  by  Jesus 

For  us  above  the  sky. 

3  Lord,  gather  all  thy  children 
To  meet  thee  there  at  last, 

When  earthly  tasks  are  ended. 

And  earthly  days  are  past ; 
With  all  our  dear  ones  round  us 

In  that  eternal  home. 
Where  death  no  more  shall  part  us. 

And  night  shall  never  come ! 

Rev.  John  Ellerton  composed  this  piece 
for  his  Hymns  for  School  and  Bible  Classes, 
1858.  We  have  had  his  picture  engraved 
from  a  later  likeness  than  that  which  was 
used  before.  He  looks  a  trifle  older,  that  is 
all.  This  first  line  of  the  hymn  used  to  be, 
"  The  hours  of  school  are  over  :"  the  change 
to  the  word  "  day  "  was  made  by  the  author 
himself  in  the  Church  Hymns  published  by 


PRAYER  AND   INVOCATION. 


501 


JOHN  ELLERTON. 

the  Society  for  Promoting  Cliristian  Know- 
ledge (S.  P.  C.  K.),  London,  1871.  If  such 
sentiments  as  these  were  inculcated  in  our 
American  schools  as  this  song  of  thanks- 
giving, penitence,  hope,  and  prayer  contains, 
there  would  surely  be  more  thoughtfulness 
and  devotion  in  the  hearts  of  instructors  and 
pupils  than  there  appears  to  be  now.  The 
appropriateness  of  such  a  hymn  to  family 
prayers  and  to  evening  worship  generally 
cannot  be  overlooked. 

I  45  The  Lord's  Mercy.  S.  M. 

Sweet  is  thy  mercy,  Lord  ; 

Before  thy  mercy  seat 
My  soul,  adoring,  pleads  thy  word. 

And  owns  thy  mercy  sweet. 

2  My  need,  and  thy  desires. 
Are  all  in  Christ  complete; 

Thou  hast  the  justice  trutli  requires. 
And  I  thy  mercy  sweet. 

3  Where'er  thy  name  is  blest, 
Where'er  thy  people  meet. 

There  I  delight  in  thee  to  rest, 
Atid  find  thy  mercy  sweet. 

4  Light  thou  my  weary  way, 
Lead  thou  my  wandering  feet. 

That  while  I  stay  on  earth  I  may 
Still  find  thy  mercy  sweet. 

5  Thus  shall  the  heavenly  host 
Hear  all  my  songs  repeat 

To  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost, 
My  joy,  thy  mercy  sweet. 

This  was  written  by  Rev.  John  Samuel 
Bewley  Monsell,  and  published  in  his  Hyjnns 
of  Lave  and  Praise,  1863.  It  is  entitled, 
"  Divine  Mercy,"  and  these  stanzas,  with  a 
simplicity  as  attractive  as  it  is  strong,  are 
given  wholly  to  the  celebration  of  that  at- 


tribute as  their  theme.  There  is  no  mercy 
anywhere  in  this  world  but  God's.  Men 
never  seem  to  show  it  to  each  other ;  beasts 
are  never  known  to  forgive  an  enemy ;  the 
air,  the  sea,  the  earth,  bring  pestilences,  ship- 
wrecks, and  poisons;  but  they  never  say 
grace  as  they  devour  men,  women,  and  chil- 
dren. And  there  is  no  proof  of  even  God's 
mercy  save  in  the  Scriptures  ;  the  doctrine  is 
simply  revealed  there  as  a  new  and  alto- 
gether glorious  disclosure.  Once  a  Welsh 
minister,  speaking  of  the  burial  of  Moses, 
said,  "  In  that  burial  not  only  was  the  body 
buried,  but  also  the  grave  and  the  graveyard. 
This  is  an  illustration  of  the  way  in  which 
God's  mercy  buries  sins.  No  one  is  in  the 
funeral  with  Mercy,  and  if  any  should  meet 
her  on  returning  from  the  burial  and  ask  her, 
'  Mercy,  where  didst  thou  bury  our  sins  T  her 
answer  would  be, '  I  do  not  remember.'  " 

146  The  Lord's  Prayer.  S.  M. 

Our  heavenly  Father!  hear 

The  prayer  we  offer  now  ; 
"  Thy  name  be  hallowed  far  and  near, 

To  thee  all  nations  bow  ! 

2  "  Thy  kingdom  come  !  thy  will 
On  earth  be  done  in  love, 

As  saints  and  seraphim  fulfill 
Thy  perfect  law  above  ! 

3  "  Our  daily  bread  supply. 
While,  by  thy  word,  we  live ; 

The  guilt  of  our  iniquity 
Forgive,  as  we  forgive. 

4  "From  dark  temptation's  power. 
From  Satan's  wiles  defend; 

Deliver  in  the  evil  hour, 
And  guide  us  to  the  end. 

5  "  Thine,  then,  for  ever  be 
Glory  and  power  divine ! 

The  scepter,  throne,  and  majesty 
Of  heaven  and  earth  are  thine." 

James  Montgomery  has  given  us  two  ver- 
sions of  the  Lord's  Prayer,  this  one,  and  an- 
other commencing,  "  Our  heavenly  Father, 
hear  our  prayer."  They  differ  only  in  meter; 
both  are  published  in  the  Christian  Psalm- 
ist, 1825. 

1 47  For  perfect  Submission. 

1  WANT  a  heart  to  pray, 
To  pray,  and  never  cease ; 

Never  to  murmur  at  thy  stay. 
Or  wish  my  sufferings  less. 

2  This  blessing,  above  all — 
Always  to  pray — I  want ; 

Out  of  the  deep  on  thee  to  call. 
And  never,  never  faint. 

3  I  rest  upon  thy  word, 
The  promise  is  for  me ; 

My  succor  and  salvation.  Lord, 
Shall  surely  come  from  thee. 

4  But  let  me  still  abide. 
Nor  from  my  hope  remove, 

Till  thou  my  patient  spirit  guide 
Into  thy  perfect  love. 


S.M. 


502 


GENERAL    PRAISE. 


Rev.  Charles  Wesley  has  a  fine  piece  in 
his  Hymns  and  Sacred  Poems,  1742,  begin- 
ing,  "Jesus,  my  Strength,  my  Hope,"  and 
entitled,  "  A  Poor  Sinner."  Out  of  this  sev- 
eral centos  have  been  constructed  by  the 
selection  of  different  verses,  notably  the  one 
now  before  us,  which  first  appeared  in  Songs 
for  the  Sanctuary,  1865.  The  allusion  is  di- 
rect to  the  parable  of  the  Unjust  Judge,  Luke 
18:1,  and  the  song  inculcates  the  perfect  sub- 
mission which  importunate  persistency  in 
prayer  always  brings. 

I  57  Praise  Unceasing.  P.  M. 

Christ,  to  thee,  with  God  the  Father, 

And,  O  Holy  Ghost,  to  thee, 
Hymn,  and  chant,  and  high  thanksgiving, 

And  unwearied  praises  be, 
Honor,  glory,  and  dominion. 

And  eternal  victorj-, 
Evermore  and  evermore. 

2  O  ye  heights  of  heaven,  adore  him  ; 
Angel-hosts,  his  praises  sing  : 

All  dominions,  bow  before  him. 
And  extol  our  God  and  King  ; 

Let  no  tongue  on  earth  be  silent. 

Every  voice  in  concert  ring, 

Evermore  and  evermore. 

3  Laud  and  honor  to  the  Father, 
Laud  and  honor  to  the  Son, 

Laud  and  honor  to  the  Spirit, 

Ever  Three  and  ever  One : 
Consubstantial,  co-eternal. 

While  unending  ages  run, 
Evermore  and  evermore ! 

In  practical  use  it  was  found  necessary  to 
divide  the  version  of  Rev.  John  Mason  Neale, 
D.  D.,  given  us  of  the  ancient  hymn,  "■Corde 
Natus  ex  Parentis^'  into  three  parts,  two  of 
which  are  somewhat  familiar  in  the  churches 
already.  This  portion  is  made  up  of  three 
stanzas  not  necessary  to  the  theme  of  the 
incarnation,  but  useful  as  a  hymn  of  general 
praise,  set  to  the  old  tune  for  the  congrega- 
tion to  sing  in  unison,  as  was  probably  the 
custom  long  ago.  The  doxology  is  by  Sir 
Henry  Williams  Baker. 

1 80  Psalm  92.  7s.  D. 

Thou  who  art  enthroned  above. 
Thou  by  whom  we  live  and  move  ! 
Oh,  how  sweet,  with  joyful  tongue, 
To  resound  thy  praise  in  song ! 
Sweet  the  day  of  sacred  rest. 
When  devotion  fills  the  breast. 
When  we  dwell  within  thy  house, 
Hear  thy  word,  and  pay  our  vows. 

2  From  thy  works  our  joys  arise, 
O  thou  only  good  and  wise: 
Who  thy  wonders  can  declare? 
How  profound  thy  counsels  are ! 
Warm  our  hearts  with  sacred  fire; 
Grateful  fervors  still  inspire; 
All  our  powers,  with  all  their  might. 
Ever  in  thy  praise  unite. 

George  Sandys,  son  of  the  Archbishop  of 
York,  was  born  at  Bishopthorpe  Palace,  York, 


in  1577,  and  educated  at  Oxford.  After  his 
graduation  he  spent  some  years  in  travel  in 
Europe  and  Asia,  and  a  book  containing  an 
account  of  his  curious  experiences  was  pub- 
lished by  him  on  his  return  in  161 5.  He  then 
visited  America,  where  for  a  time  he  held  the 
position  of  Treasurer  of  the  British  Colony  of 
Virginia.  Later,  when  he  was  again  in  Eng- 
land, he  became  a  Gentleman  of  the  Privy 
Chamber  of  Charles"  I.  His  death  occurred 
at  Bexley  Abbey,  Kent,  in  March,  1643.  Be- 
sides his  volumes  of  travel,  Mr.  Sandys  pub- 
lished several  paraphrases  founded  on  the 
Psalms  and  other  portions  of  the  Bible.  Of 
these  about  eight  poems  are  still  in  general 
use,  the  version  of  the  ninety-second  Psalm 
given  here  being  one  his  best  efforts. 

181  "Earth  and  Heaven."  7s.  D. 

From  the  vast  and  vailed  throng, 

Round  the  Father's  heavenly  throne. 
Swells  the  everlasting  song: 

Glory  be  to  God  alone ! 
Round  Immanuel's  cross  of  pain 

Mortal  men,  in  tribes  unknown. 
Sing  to  him  who  once  was  slain  : 

Glory  be  to  God  alone ! 

2  Blend,  ye  raptured  songs,  in  one, 

Men  redeemed,  your  Father  own ; 
Angels,  worship  ye  the  Son  : 

Glory  be  to  God  alone ! 
Spirit,  't  is  within  thy  light. 

Streaming  far  from  cross  and  throne. 
Earth  and  heaven  their  songs  unite: 

Glory  be  to  God  alone ! 

One  of  the  most  beautiful  of  the  composi- 
tions of  Dr.  Her\^ey  Doddridge  Ganse,  the 
Presbyterian  pastor  of  St.  Louis,  and  the  effi- 
cient Secretary  of  the  Board  for  Colleges  in 
Chicago,  who  died  so  lately  that  the  church 
still  mourns.  It  is  entitled  in  Hymns  and 
Songs  of  Praise,  1874,  where  it  first  appeared, 
"  Adoration  of  the  Heavenly  Hosts."  It  was 
written  in  1872. 

2  I  5  Inspiration.  S.  M. 

God  of  the  prophets'  power ! 

God  of  the  gospel's  sound ! 
Move  glorious  on — send  out  thy  voice 

To  all  the  nations  round. 

2  With  hearts  and  lips  unfeigned. 
We  bless  thee  for  thy  word  ; 

We  praise  thee  for  the  joyful  news 
Which  our  glad  ears  have  heard. 

3  Oh,  may  we  treasure  well 
The  counsels  that  we  hear. 

Till  righteousness  and  holy  joy 
In  all  our  hearts  appear. 

4  Water  the  sacred  seed. 
And  give  it  large  increase: 

May  neither  fowls,  nor  rocks,  nor  thorns. 
Prevent  the  fruits  of  peace. 

5  .\nd  though  we  sow  in  tears. 
Our  souls  at  last  shall  come. 

And  gather  in  our  sheaves  with  joy 
At  heaven's  great  har\-est-home. 


CLOSE  OF   SERVICE. 


503 


REV.   JOHN   CENNICK. 

This  in  its  original  form  was  written  by 
Rev.  John  Cennick,  the  Moravian  minister, 
and  published  in  his  Sacred  Hyin/is  for  the 
Children  of  God  in  the  Days  of  their  Pil- 
grimage, 1 741.  Many  changes  have  been 
made  in  its  phraseology,  and  the  stanzas  now 
before  us  constitute  a  cento,  selected  from 
the  five  verses  of  eight  lines  of  which  the  po- 
em consists.  It  is  a  good  hymn  for  use  after 
a  discourse  upon  Divine  Inspiration,  as  well 
as  for  closing  a  ser\dce. 

232  Angel  Guardianship.  lis,  12s. 

Saviour,  to  thee  we  raise  our  hymn  of  gladness  ; 
Once  more  at  evening's  hour  we   look  to  heaven 
above : 
Far,  far  behind  to  leave  earth's  toil  and  sadness — 
So  resting  only  on  thy  great  redeeming  love. 

2  May  this  day's  sins,  we  pray  thee,  all  be  pardoned ; 
,  Grant  us  thy  absolution,  give  thy  grace  to  cheer  ; 
Oh,  never  let  our  hearts  by  sin  be  hardened, 

But  keep  our  conscience  tender,  give  us  holy  fear. 

3  Now  day  is  done,  and  all  its  labors  ended. 

Close  thou,  O  Lord,  our  weary  eyes  in  gentle  sleep  ; 
So  may  we  ever  be  by  thee  defended — 
Oh,  may  thy  guardian  angels  round  us  vigil  keep  ! 

4  Our  souls  restore,  renew  our  powers,  and  make  us 
Strong  in  thy  strength  to  rise  and  greet  the  morning 

light ; 
And  at  the  last,  O  blessed  Saviour,  take  us 
To  dwell  with  thee  in  that  glad  land  which  knows 
no  night ! 

This  hymn  appeared  in  The  Quiver,  June, 
1892,  as  written  by  Rev.  William  James  Fox- 
ell,  B.  A.,  B.  Mus.  (London).  The  words  and 
music  are  by  the  same  author.  We  were 
struck  by  the  dignity  and  beauty  of  both.  The 
same  man  has  contributed  before  to  the  mag- 
azines, songs,  tunes,  and  poems  of  real  origin- 
ality and  value.  He  is  a  clergyman  of  "the 
Church  of  England,  a  Minor  Canon  of  Canter- 
bury Cathedral,  residing  in  the  Precincts. 


2  While  thine  ear  of  love  addressing. 
Thus  our  panmg  hymn  we  sing, 

Father,  grant  thine  evening  blessing, 
Fold  us  safe  beneath  thy  wing  I 

Rev.  Chandler  Robbins,  D.  D.,  was  born  in 
Lynn,  Mass.,  February  14,  18 10,  his  ancestors 
for  three  generations  having  been  distinguish- 
ed clergymen.  He  graduated  at  Harvard  Col- 
lege in  1829,  and  at  the  Divinity  School  in 
1833,  being  ordained  at  once  to  the  charge  of 
the  Second  Unitarian  Church  in  Boston,  the 
pulpit  formerly  occupied  by  Ralph  Waldo 
Emerson.  In  this  position  he  remained  until 
he  resigned  in  1 874,  having  held  various  pub- 
lic otfices  during  the  time.  He  published  a 
number  of  books  of  sermons  and  several  me- 
moirs. In  the  department  of  hymnology  he 
edited  two  collections,  but  he  is  known  as  an 
original  writer  of  a  few  poems  which  have 
proved  popular.  The  one  quoted  here  ap- 
peared in  Rev.  Dr.  Ellis'  Psalms  and  Hym7is 
for  the  Sanctuary,  1845.  ^f-  Robbins  died 
at  Weston,  Mass..  September  11,  1882. 

236  Psalm  23  :  2.  8s,  7s. 

Heavenly  Shepherd,  guide  us,  feed  us, 

■  Through  our  pilgrimage  below, 
And  beside  the  wateislead  us 

Where  thy  flock  rejoicing  go. 

2  Lord,  thy  guardian  presence  ever. 

Meekly  bending,  we  implore; 
We  have  found  thee,  and  would  never, 

Never  wander  from  thee  more. 

Rev.  John  Bickersteth,  M.A.,  was  born  at 
Kirkby-Lonsdale,  England,  June  19,  1781,  and 
educated  at  Cambridge.  He  took  Holy  Or- 
ders soon  after  his  graduation,  and  was  ap- 
pointed Vicar  of  Acton,  Suffolk,  afterwards 
becoming  Rector  of  Sapcote,  Leicestershire, 
where  he  died  October  2,  1855.  Two  of  his 
family  became  prominent  in  the  English 
Church,  the  Dean  of  Lichfield  being  his 
second  son,  and  the  Bishop  of  Ripon  his 
fourth.  Mr.  Bickersteth  wrote  a  number  of 
lyric  poems,  which  were  published  in  his 
Psalms  and  Hymns,  Selected  and  Re7nsed  for 
Public,  Social,  Family,  or  Secret  Dei'otion, 
1 81 9,  and  afterward  included  in  the  Christian 
Psalmody  of  his  brother.  Rev.  Edward  Bick- 
ersteth. Through  the  latter  book  they  at- 
tained a  wide  circulation.  Of  them  all  the 
one  quoted  here  is  probably  the  best  known. 


235  Sunset. 

Lo,  the  day  of  rest  declineth, 

Gather  fast  the  shades  of  night ; 
May  the  Sun  which  ever  shineth 

Fill  our  souls  with  heavenly  light ! 


Ss,  7s. 


240  Gift  of  God. 

Book  of  grace  and  book  of  glory  ! 

Gift  of  God  to  age  and  youth, 
Wondrous  is  thy  sacred  story, 

Bright,  bright  with  truth.  ' 

2  Book  of  love !  in  accents  tender 
Speaking  unto  such  as  we; 

Mav  it  lead  us.  Lord,  to  render 
All,  all  to  thee. 


8s,  4. 


504 


THE    LORD   JESUS    CHRIST. 


3  Book  of  hope!  the  spirit,  sighing, 
Sweetest  comfort  finds  in  thee, 

As  it  hears  the  Saviour  crying, 
"  Come,  come  to  me!" 

4  Book  of  life  !  when  we  reposing, 
Bid  farewell  to  friends  we  love. 

Give  us,  for  the  life  then  closing. 
Life,  life  above. 


iOMAS   MACKKLLAR. 


Thomas  MacKellar  was  born  in  New  York. 
August  12,  i8i2,-  and  while  yet  a  boy  entered 
the  printing  establishment  of  Harper  Brothers. 
He  removed  to  Philadelphia  in  1833,  and  was 
employed  by  a  firm  of  type-founders,  rising 
gradually  until  he  became  a  partner  in  the 
firm.  He  published  several  volumes  of  verse, 
and  quite  a  number  of  his  hymns  are  now  in 
general  use.  The  poem  quoted  above  was 
written  in  1843,  and  first  published  in  the 
Sunday-School  Union  Collection  in  i860,  be- 
ing included  later  in  his  Hymns  and  a  Feiv 
Metrical  Psalms,  1883.  It  is  easy  to  see  how 
this  man,  himself  an  elder  in  the  Presbyterian 
Church  of  Germantown,  Philadelphia,  his 
grandfather  an  elder  in  the  old  Kirk  of  Scot- 
land, and  his  mother  a  Huguenot  by  descent, 
received  his  love  and  trust  for  the  Book  of 
grace  and  glory,  of  truth  and  love,  of  hope 
and  life.  He  has  cherished  a  chivalrous  and 
knightly  regard  for  the  Word  of  God  all  his 
long  and  useful  life.  He  himself  has  written 
that,  "  brought  up  on  Venn  and  Doddridge 
and  Bunyan,  he  was  imbued  with  the  princi- 
ples and  fancies  of  these  devout  instructors 
until  the  Holy  War  really  seemed  to  enter  his 
blood ;"  and  he  has  lived  his  entire  life  with 
this   inspiration    always    quickening    him    to 


watchfulness  and  zeal.  Of  poetry  he  only 
imbibed  a  little  from  Cowper ;  but  the  Bible 
was,  first  and  last,  his  chief  delight. 

298  Grace  Divine.  C.  M. 

Thou  grace  divine  encircling  all, 

A  soundless,  shoreless  sea  ! 
Wherein  at  last  our  souls  must  fall, 

O  Love  of  God  most  free ! 

2  And  though  we  turn  us  from  thy  face, 
And  wander  wide  and  long, 

Thou  hold'st  us  still  in  thine  embrace, 
O  Love  of  God  most  strong ! 

3  The  saddened  heart,  the  restless  soul, 
The  toil-worn  frame  and  mind, 

Alike  confess  thy  sweet  control, 
O  Love  of  God  most  kind  ! 

4  And  filled  and  quickened  by  thy  breath. 
Our  souls  are  strong  and  free 

To  rise  o'er  sin  and  fear  and  death, 
O  Love  of  God,  to  thee ! 

Miss  Eliza  Scudder,  who  is  a  niece  of  Rev. 
Dr.  E.  H.  Sears,  well  known  for  his  two 
Christmas  hymns,  was  born  in  Boston,  Mass., 
November  14,  1821,  and  is  at  present  living 
in  Salem.  Although  at  first  a  Unitarian,  she 
has  since  become  a  member  of  the  Episcopal 
Church.  Miss  Scudder  has  written  a  number 
of  hymns,  which  are  widely  known  and  highly 
valued.  The  one  given  above,  although  dated 
1852,  first  appeared  in  Rev.  Dr.  Sears'  Pic- 
tures of  the  Olden  Ti7ne,  as  shown  in  the 
Fortunes  of  a  Family  of  Pilgrims,  1857,  and 
this  was  afterward  included  in  the  Boston 
collection  known  as   Hymns  of  the   Spirit, 


348  The  Song  of  the  Angels.  C.  M.  D. 

O  LITTLE  town  of  Bethlehem, 

How  still  we  see  thee  lie  ! 
.\bove  thy  deep  and  dreamless  sleep 

The  silent  stars  go  by  ; 
Yet  in  thy  dark  streets  shineth 

The  everlasting  Light ; 
The  hopes  and  fears  of  all  the  years 

Are  met  in  thee  to-night. 

2  For  Christ  is  born  of  Mary ; 
And,  gathered  all  above. 

While  mortals  sleep,  the  angels  keep 

Their  watch  of  wondering  love. 
O  morning  stars,  together 

Proclaim  the  holy  birth  ! 
And  praises  sing  to  God  the  King, 

And  peace  to  men  on  earth. 

3  How  silently,  how  sileiitly, 
The  wondrous  gift  is  given  ! 

So  God  imparts  to  human  hearts 

The  blessings  of  his  heaven. 
No  ear  may  hear  his  coming; 

But  in  this  world  of  sin. 
Where  meek  souls  will  receive  him  still, 

The  dear  Christ  enters  in. 

4  O  holy  Child  of  Bethlehem  ! 
Descend  to  us,  we  pray  ; 

Cast  out  our  sin  and  enter  in, 
Be  born  in  us  to-dav. 


LIFE   AND   CHARACTER. 


505 


We  hear  the  Christmas  angels 
The  great,  glad  tidings  tell ; 

Oh,  come  to  us,  abide  with  us. 
Our  Lord  Immanuel ! 


REV.   PHILLIPS  BROOKS,  D 

"  No  man  or  woman  of  the  humblest  sort 
can  really  be  strong,  pure,  and  good  without 
the  world  being  the  better  for  it,  without 
somebody  being  helped  and  comforted  by 
the  very  existence  of  this  goodness."  The 
best  introduction  to  our  note  concerning  Dr. 
Phillips  Brooks,  the  author  of  this  hymn,  is 
.this  quotation  from  one  of  his  own  public 
utterances.  The  air  is  hardly  still  yet  which 
has  been  stirred  by  the  voices  of  sorrow  more 
powerfully  through  all  our  American  com- 
munities than  for  years  before.  The  death  of 
this  great  and  kind  man  brought  his  life  into 
review.  He  was  "  pure  and  good,"  and  he 
"  helped  and  comforted,"  and  the  world  is 
better  for  it. 

Rev.  Phillips  Brooks,  D.  D.,  was  born  De- 
cember 13,  1835,  in  Boston,  Mass.  He  was 
a  graduate  of  Harvard  College,  1855,  and 
from  that  institution  went  to  the  Episcopal 
Theological  Seminary  in  Alexandria,  Va.  In 
1859  he  was  ordained  and  settled  as  rector  of 
the  Church  of  the  Advent  in  Philadelphia. 
He  removed  to  Boston  in  1 869  to  become  the 
rector  of  Trinity  Church,  where  his  real  life's 
record  was  to  be  written.  It  was  not  long 
before  his  personality  became  as  dominant  in 
the  Puritan  as  it  had  been  in  the  Quaker 


metropolis.  His  superb  presence,  his  cap- 
tivating graces  of  manner,  his  thrilling  elo- 
quence, his  profound  scholarship,  won  the 
admiration  of  the  most  cultured  Bostonians, 
while  his  spiritual  fervor  and  the  tremendous 
energy  of  the  whole  man  made  him  loved 
and  honored  by  every  one. 

There  for  twenty-two  years  he  preached, 
and  his  fame  ran  over  the  world.  Then  in 
1 89 1  he  was  elected  Bishop  of  the  diocese  of 
Massachusetts.  Heavy  work  followed  ;  great 
success  was  achieved.  Then  the  end  came 
suddenly.  At  the  supreme  height  of  his  use- 
fulness and  popularity  he  died  January  23, 
1893.     "  Dieu  seul  est grafid !" 

This  one  hymn,  which  has  now  found  its 
way  into  several  prominent  collections,  was 
written  for  Trinity  Sunday-school  about  1880, 
printed  on  a  leaflet,  and  for  a  while  passed 
as  anonymous.  Dates  have  never  been  af- 
fixed to  it ;  makers  of  sheet-music  took  it  up 
and  sung  it  as  a  song.  The  author  never 
had  any  care  of  his  fugitive  pieces,  and  the 
world  did  what  it  pleased  with  them.  The 
hymn  is  beautiful,  and  the  world  offers  its 
thanks. 

363  "^^^  Transfiguration.  L.  M. 

Oh,  wondrous  type,  oh,  vision  fair. 
Of  glory  that  the  Church  shall  share, 
Which  Christ  upon  the  mountain  shows, 
Where  brighter  than  the  sun  he  glows ! 

2  With  shining  face  and  bright  array, 
Christ  deigns  to  manifest  to-day 
What  glory  shall  be  theirs  above 
Who  joy  in  God  with  perfect  love. 

3  And  faithful  hearts  are  raised  on  high 
By  this  great  vision's  mystery ; 

For  which  in  joyful  strains  we  raise 
The  voice  of  prayer,  the  hymn  of  praise. 

4  O  Father,  with  the  Eternal  Son, 
And  Holy  Spirit,  ever  One, 
Vouchsafe  to  bring  us  by  thy  grace 
To  see  thy  glory  face  to  face. 

The  authorship  of  this  hymn  has  remained 
unknown  :  the  Latin  original  was  included  in 
the  Sarimi  Breviary  among  the  poems  desig- 
nated for  use  on  the  festival  of  the  Transfig- 
uration. It  is  also  fouhd  in  a  manuscript  of 
the  fifteenth  century.  A  translation  made  by 
Rev.  Dr.  John  Mason  Neale  for  the  enlarged 
edition  of  the  Hymnal  Noted  in  1854,  began 
with  the  line,  "  A  type  of  those  bright  rays  on 
high."  This  was  altered  to  the  present  form 
in  1 86 1  by  the  compilers  of  Hymns,  Ancient 
and  Modern,  and  it  has  since  been  widely 
used.  The  Scripture  reference  of  this  very 
useful  piece  is  to  Luke  9  :  28-36. 

384  Jesus'  Miracles.  C.  M.  D. 

Oh,  where  is  he  that  trod  the  sea? 

Oh,  where  is  he  that  spake  - 
And  demons  from  their  victims  flee. 

The  dead  from  slumber  wake? 


5o6 


THE   LORD   JESUS   CHRIST. 


The  palsied  rise  in  freedom  strong, 

The  dumb  men  talk  and  sing, 
And  from  blind  eyes,  benighted  long, 

Bright  beams  of  morning  spring. 

2  Oh,  where  is  he  that  trod  the  sea? 
'T  is  only  he  can  save  : 

To  thousands  hungering  wearily, 

A  wondrous  meal  he  gave  ; 
Full  soon,  celestially  fed. 

Their  plenteous  food  they  take: 
'T  was  springtide  when  he  blest  the  bread, 

'T  was  harvest  when  he  brake. 

3  Oh,  where  is  he  that  trod  the  sea? 
My  soul !  the  Lord  is  here  ; 

Let  all  thy  fears  be  hushed  in  thee, 

And  leap,  and  look,  and  hear. 
Thy  utmost  needs  he  '11  satisfy  : 

Art  thou  diseased  or  dumb? 
Or  dost  thou  in  thy  hunger  cry  ? 

Behold  thy  Helper  come ! 

Among  the  hymns  by  Rev.  Thomas  Toke 
Lynch  which  he  published  in  his  boolc  called 
The  Rivulet :  a  Cotiiribution  to  Sacred  Song, 
1855,  we  find  this  i)oem.  It  is  marked  by  the 
freshness  and  felicity  of  expression  which  char- 
acterize most  of  his  writings,  and  is  a  pictur- 
esque summing  up  of  the  miracles  wrought 
by  Christ  during  his  earthly  life.  Where 
there  is  a  needy  soul,  he  is  still  at  hand  with 
undiminished  power  to  help.  Sometimes 
there  is  a  wish,  almost  a  cr^'  of  one's  heart, 
for  the  personal  presence  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ :  "  If  he  were  here  we  might  be 
better !"  This  is  what  is  rebuked  by  the 
apostle,  Romans  10:6-8.  The  hymn  before 
us  makes  reply  :  "  My  soul !  the  Lord  is  here." 

393  Loved  Unseen.— r  Pet.  i  :  S.  L.  M.  61. 

We  saw  thee  not  when  thou  didst  come 
To  this  poor  world  of  sin  and  death. 

Nor  e'er  beheld  thy  cottage  home 
In  that  despised  Nazareth  ; 

But  we  believe  thy  footsteps  trod 

Its  streets  and  plains,  thou  Son  of  God. 

2  We  did  not  see  thee  lifted  high. 
Amid  that  wild  and  savage  crew  ; 

Nor  heard  thy  meek,  imploring  cry, 

"  Forgive,  they  know  not  what  they  do!" 
Yet  we  believe  the  deed  was  done, 
Which  shook  the  earth  and  vailed  the  sun. 

3  We  stood  not  by  the  empty  tomb. 
Wherein  thy  sacred  body  lay ; 

Nor  sat  within  that  upper  room. 
Nor  met  thee  in  the  open  way ; 
But  we  believe  that  angels  said, 
"  Why  seek  the  living  with  the  dead  ?" 

4  We  did  not  mark  the  chosen  few, 

When  thou  didst  through  the  clouds  ascend, 
First,  lift  to  heaven  their  wondering  view. 

Then  to  the  earth  all  prostrate  bend  ; 
Yet  we  believe  that  mortal  eyes 
Beheld  thee  taken  to  the  skies. 

5  And  now  that  thou  dost  reign  on  high, 
And  thence  thy  waiting  people  bless, 

No  ray  of  glory  from  the  sky 

Doth  shine  upon  our  wilderness : 
But  we  believe  thy  faithful  word. 
And  trust  in  our  redeeming  Lord. 


Scarcely  any  modern  hymn  has  undergone 
as  many  changes  as  the  one  before  us.  It 
first  appeared  anonymously  in  1834  in  Songs 
from  the  Valley,  a  collection  of  sacred  poetry 
compiled  by  the  daughters  of  an  English 
clergyman.  Two  years  later  it  was  repub- 
lished in  a  periodical,  with  the  signature 
"  Anne  R.  Kirton-Lindsey."  The  first  line 
was, "  We  have  not  seen  thy  footsteps  tread," 
and  the  poem  was  announced  to  be  the  work 
of  Mrs.  Anne  Richter,  wife  of  an  English 
clerg\'man  living  at  that  time  as  Chaplain  of 
the  County  Jail  at  Kirton-Lindsey,  Lincoln- 
shire. An  adaptation  of  the  eight  stanzas 
was  made  in  1838  by  Rev.  J.  H.  Gurney  and 
Rev.  H.  J.  BuckoU  to  fit  it  for  church  use ; 
then  in  1850  it  was  recast  by  the  latter  clergy- 
man alone.  The  present  form  is  the  work  of 
Rev.  John  Hampden  Gurney,  and  appeared 
in  his  Psahns  and  Hymns  for  Public  Wor- 
ship, 1 85 1.  The  poem  has  been  so  greatly 
changed  by  him  as  to  be  virtually  an  original 
composition,  only  the  general  idea  and  the 
refrain,  "  But  we  believe,"  are  retained.  Many 
centos  from  Mr.  Gurney's  work  have  found 
their  way  into  the  various  collections,  and  add 
to  the  difficulty  of  tracing  the  original  hymn. 


394 


Light,  IVay,  Truth,  Life. 


L.  M.  61. 


O  LIGHT  whose  beams  illumine  all 
From  twilight  dawn  till  perfect  day. 

Shine  thou  before  the  shadows  fall 
That  lead  our  wandering  feet  astray  : 

At  morn  and  eve  thy  radiance  pour. 

That  youth  may  love  and  age  adore. 

2  O  Way,  through  whom  our  souls  draw  near 
To  yoii  eternal  home  of  peace. 

Where  perfect  love  shall  cast  out  fear. 

And  earth's  vain  toil  and  wandering  cease  : 
In  strength  or  weakness  may  we  see 
Our  heavenward  path,  O  Lord,  through  thee. 

3  O  Truth,  before  whose  shrine  we  bow, 
Thou  priceless  pearl  for  all  who  seek, 

To  thee  our  earliest  strength  we  vow. 

Thy  love  will  bless  the  pure  and  meek  : 
When  dreams  or  mists  beguile  our  sight. 
Turn  thou  our  darkness  into  light. 

4  O  Life,  the  well  that  ever  flows 

To  slake  the  thirst  of  those  who  faint. 
Thy  power  to  bless  what  seraph  knows  ? 

Thv  joy  supreme  what  words  can  paint  ? 
In  earth's  last  hour  of  fleeting  breath 
Be  thou  our  Conqueror  over  death. 

5  O  Light,  O  Way,  O  Truth,  O  Life, 
O  Jesus,  born  mankind  to  save, 

Give  thou  thy  peace  in  deadliest  strife. 

Shed  thou  thy  calm  on  stormiest  wave : 
Be  thou  our  Hope,  our  Joy,  our  Dread, 
Lord  of  the  living  and  the  dead. 

Among  five  hymns  written  by  Rev.  Dr. 
Edward  Hayes  Plum.ptre  for  schools  and  col- 
leges this  one  was  published  in  his  Lasarits 
and  Other  Poems,  1864.  It  was  included  in. 
the  Appendix  to  Hvmns,  Ancient  and  Mod- 


LIFE   AND   CHARACTER. 


507 


er7t,   1868,  and  has  become  widely  popular. 
The  Scripture  reference  is  to  John  14:6. 


396 


Divine  and  Human. 


L.  M.  61. 


O  LOVE,  who  formedst  me  to  wear 
The  image  of  thy  Godhead  here ; 
Who  soughtest  me  with  tender  care 
Through  all  my  wanderings  wild  and  drear; 
O  Love,  I  give  myself  to  thee, 
Thine  ever,  only  thine  to  be. 

2  O  Love,  who  ere  life's  earliest  dawn 
On  me  thy  choice  hast  gently  laid  ; 

O  Love,  who  here  as  Man  wast  born, 

And  like  to  us  in  all  things  made; 

O  Love,  I  give  myself  to  thee, 

Thine  ever,  only  thine  to  be. 

3  O  Love,  who  once  in  time  wast  slain. 
Pierced  through  and  through  with  bitter  woe ; 

O  Love,  who  wrestling  thus  didst  gain 
That  we  eternal  joy  might  know ; 
O  Love,  I  give  myself  to  thee, 
Thine  ever,  only  thine  to  be. 

This  is  one  of  Miss  Catharine  Winkworth's 
fine  translations  which  first  appeared  in  her 
Lvra  Gcrmanica,  1858,  and  has  established  it- 
self in  popular  favor.  The  original  is  the  work 
of  Johann  Scheffler,  the  mystic  to  whom  Ger- 
many owes  so  much  of  her  best  religious  po- 
etry, and  it  was  printed  in  six  stanzas  of  six 
lines  each  in  his  Hcilige  Seelenlust,  1657.  It 
is  related  that  in  1722  a  German  missionary 
in  Madras  sang  it  and  was  so  delighted  with 
it  that  he  wished  his  native  scholars  to  share 
it  with  him.  He  began  to  work  upon  a  Mala- 
bar rendering  of  it  the  same  evening,  and  did 
not  rest  until  he  had  finished  it,  two  hours 
after  midnight.  His  version  met  with  such 
success  that  he  translated  more  than  one 
hundred  hymns  from  the  German,  and  they 
are  still  sung  in  Southern  India. 


.419  Sinai  and  Calvary. 

From  Sinai's  cloud  of  darkness 

The  vivid  lightnings  play, 
They  serve  the  God  of  vengeance, 

The  Lord  who  shall  repay. 
Each  fault  must  bring  its  penance, 

Each  sin  the  avenging  blade; 
For  God  upholds  injustice 

The  laws  that  he  hath  made. 

2  But  Calvary  stands  to  ransom 
The  earth  from  utter  loss. 

In  shade  than  light  more  glorious, 
The  shadow  of  the  Cross. 

To  heal  a  sick  world's  trouble. 
To  soothe  its  woe  and  pain. 

On  Calvary's  sacred  summit 
The  Paschal  Lamb  was  slain. 

3  The  boundless  might  of  Heaven 
Its  law  in  mercy  furled. 

As  once  the  bow  of  promise 
O'erarched  a  drowning  world. 

The  law  said— As  you  keep  me 
It  shall  be  done  to  vou. 

But  Calvary  prays— Forgive  them. 
They  know  not  what  they  do. 

4  Almighty  God  !  direct  us 
To  keep  thy  perfect  Law  ! 

O  bles.s^d  Saviour,  help  us 
Nearer  to  thee  to  draw ; 


7S,  6s.  D. 


'  ■  Let  Sinai's  thunders  aid  us 

To  guard  our  feet  from  sin. 
And  Calvary's  light  inspire  us 
The  love  of  God  to  win. 

Col.  John  Hay  was  born  in  Salem,  Indiana, 
October  8,  1838,  and  inherited  a  love  of  arms 
from  several  generations  of  ancestors  who 
had  served  in  wars  both  in  America  and  Eu- 
rope. He  was  educated  at  Brown  University, 
and  graduated  in  1858  with  high  reputation 
as  a  writer.     He  was  admitted  to  the  Bar  in 


JOHN    HAY. 

1861 ,  but  he  went  immediately  to  Washington 
to  become  President  Lincoln's  secretary  and 
trusted  friend.  He  also  acted  as  aide-de-camp, 
and  served  for  some  months  as  major,  being 
finally  brevetted  colonel.  After  the  war  he 
held  diplomatic  positions  in  Paris,  Vienna,  and 
Madrid,  but  came  back  to  resume  literary 
work  in  America.  He  has  attained  wide  rep- 
utation as  an  author,  but  is  only  known  in 
hymnology  by  the  fine  poem  which  is  given 
here.  Before  us  lies  a  characteristic  letter 
with  a  bright  scarlet  seal  of  wax,  on  which  is 
stamped  ''Quod habeo,  Desidero."  In  this  he 
says  :  "  I  wrote  the  hymn  several  years  ago — 
because  I  felt  like  it ;  I  can  say  nothing  more 
intelligible  than  that."  Col.  Hay  resides  in 
Washington,  D.  C. ;  he  has  a  wife  and  four 
children  ;  he  is  very  happy  ;  his  Life  of  Lin- 
coln is  a  prodigious  success ;  he  attends  ser- 
vice in  the  Presbyterian  Church  of  the  Cov- 
enant. 

It  is  the  doctrinal  suggestion  of  this  piece 
of  poetry  which  gives  it  its  chief  value.  It 
contrasts  the  teaching  of  the  Law  and  the 


5o8 


THE    LORD   JESUS   CHRIST. 


Gospel,  and  presents  them  unoer  the  figure 
of  Sinai  and  Calvary :  condemnation  first, 
then  redemption,  full,  free,  and  permanent. 
Take  the  story  of  John  Bunyan's  experience 
as  a  practical  illustration  :  "  One  day  as  1  was 
passing  in  the  field,  fearing  lest  yet  all  was 
not  right,  suddenly  this  sentence  fell  upon  my 
soul :  Thy  righteousness  is  in  heaven ;  and 
methought  withal  I  saw  with  the  eyes  of  my 
soul  Jesus  Christ  at  God's  right  hand  ;  there, 
I  say,  as  my  righteousness  ;  so  that  wherever 
I  was,  or  whatever  I  was  a-doing,  God  could 
not  say  of  me.  He  wants  my  righteousness, 
for  that  was  just  before  him.  I  also  saw, 
moreover,  that  it  was  not  my  good  frame  of 
heart  that  made  my  righteousness  better,  nor 
yet  my  bad  frame  that  made  my  righteous- 
ness worse ;  for  my  righteousness  was  Jesus 
Christ  himself,  the  same  yesterday,  and  to- 
day, and  for  ever.  Now  did  my  chains  fall  off 
my  legs  indeed.  I  was  loosed  from  my  afflic- 
tion and  irons ;  my  temptations  also  flew 
away,  so  that  from  that  time  those  dreadful 
Scriptures  of  God  left  off  to  trouble  me ;  now 
went  I  also  home  rejoicing  for  the  grace  and 
love  of  God.  So  when  I  came  home  I  looked 
to  find  that  sentence,  '  Thy  righteousness  is 
in  heaven,'  but  could  not  find  such  a  saying ; 
wherefore  my  heart  began  to  sink  again,  only 
that  was  brought  to  my  remembrance,  '  He  is 
made  unto  us  of  God  wisdom,  and  righteous- 
ness, and  sanctification,  and  redemption.'  By 
this  word  I  saw  the  other  sentence  true.  For 
by  this  Scripture  I  saw  that  the  man  Christ 
Jesus,  as  he  is  distinct  from  us  as  touching 
his  bodily  presence,  so  he  is  our  righteous- 
ness and  sanctification  before  God.  Here, 
therefore,  I  lived  for  some  time  very  sweetly 
at  peace  with  God  through  Christ.  Oh  !  me- 
thought, Christ !  Christ !  It  was  glorious  to 
me  to  see  his  exaltation  and  the  worth  and 
the  prevalency  of  all  his  benefits,  and  that 
because  now  I  could  look  from  myself  to  him, 
and  would  reckon  that  all  those  graces  of 
God  that  now  were  green  in  me  were  yet  but 
like  those  cracked  groats  and  fourpence  half- 
pennies that  rich  men  carry  in  their  purses 
when  their  gold  is  in  their  trunk  at  home. 
Oh,  I  saw  my  gold  was  in  my  trunk  at  home ! 
In  Christ  my  Lord  and  Saviour  !  Now  Christ 

WAS  ALL." 

420  Sin  seen  at  Gethsemane.  7s,  6s.  D. 

My  sins,  my  sins,  my  Saviour ! 

Their  guilt  I  never  knew 
Till,  with  thee  in  the  desert, 

I  near  thy  passion  drew  ; 
Till,  with  thee  in  the  garden, 

I  heard  thy  pleading  prayer, 
And  saw  the  sweat-drops  bloody 

That  told  thy  sorrow  there. 


2  Therefore  my  songs,  my  Saviour, 

Ev'n  in  this  time  of  woe, 
Shall  tell  of  all  thy  goodness 

To  suffering  man  below. 
Thy  goodness  and  thy  favor, 

Whose  presence  from  above 
Rejoice  those  hearts,  my  Saviour, 

That  live  in  thee  and  love. 

In  the  Hymns  of  Love  and  Praise,  by  Rev. 
John  S.  B.  Monsell,  LL.  D.,  published  in 
1863,  this  poem  appears  with  the  title  "  Ash 
Wednesday  "  affixed  to  it.  The  spirit  of  peni- 
tence breathes  throughout  it,  as  the  writer 
contemplates  the  forty  days'  fasting  of  our 
Lord  in  the  wilderness. 

• 

42  I  "  Man  of  Sorro7vs."  7s,  6s.  D. 

O  Jesus,  "  Man  of  Sorrows," 

Sole  Son  of  God,  the  King ! 
What  language  shall  I  borrow 

Thy  boundless  love  to  sing  ? 
No  mortal  words  can  measure 

The  burdens  thou  did?t  take, 
Accepting  pain  as  pleasure, 

All  for  my  sinful  sake. 

2  By  thine  own  kin  neglected — 
By  trusted  ones  denied — 

By  bitter  foes  rejected. 
Thorn-crowned  and  crucified/ 

Earth's  hatred  and  afflictiou 
In  patience  thou  didst  bear, 

Returning  benediction 
For  cross  and  nail  and  spear. 

3  Had  ever  love  such  proving! 
Was  ever  love  so  priced ! 

Ah,  what  is  all  my  loving 
Compared  with  thine,  O  Christ ! 

'T  is  scarcely  worth  the  gaining — 
This  paltry  heart  of  mme ; 

And  yet  for  its  obtaining 
Thou  paid'st  a  price  divine. 

This  hymn  was  written  by  George  Spring 
Dwight,  a  layman  of  the  American  Presby- 
terian Church  all  his  life.  He  was  born  in 
New  York  city,  December  14,  1835,  a  direct 
descendant  from  President  Timothy  Dwight, 
of  Yale  College.  His  youth  was  spent  in 
New  York  and  Brooklyn  in  business  life  of 
various  sorts,  the  leisure  moments  of  which 
he  improved  in  study  and  in  composition. 
While  yet  a  boy  he  showed  signs  of  a  deep 
religious  character,  and  he  early  became  a 
member  of  the  church.  June  27,  i860,  he 
was  married  to  Miss  Mary  Torrey,  who  was 
born  in  New  York  city,  January  10,  1836. 
After  his  marriage  he  removed  to  Montclair, 
N.  J.,  and  in  1872  he  went  abroad  for  some 
years'  residence  in  Sweden  and  Germany. 
He  returned  to  his  own  country,  enfeebled  by 
business  cares,  in  1884,  and  died  after  long 
illness  in  Summit,  N.  J.,  August  28,  1886. 

Mr.  Dwight 's  literary  work  was  his  mere 
recreation,  and  was  done  at  odd  times  through 
most  of  his  life.  He  published  fugitive 
pieces  in  periodicals,  but  not  till  after  his 
death  were  his    compositions  gathered    into 


RESURRECTION   AND   ASCENSION. 


509 


a  book.  The  hymn  now  before  us  was  con- 
tributed to  Laudes  Domini  for  the  Sunday- 
School,  1888.  Subsequently  it  was  issued 
by  his  daughter  in  a  dainty  little  volume, 
The  Cool  of  the  Day,  and  Other  Poems,  1892. 


484 


422  The  Pierced  Side.  7S,  6s.  D. 

Lord  Jesus,  by  thy  passion. 

To  thee  I  make  my  prayer ; 
Thou  who  in  mercy  smitest, 

Have  mercy,  Lord,  and  spare: 
Oh,  wash  me  in  the  fountain 

That  floweth  from  thy  side  ; 
Oh,  clothe  me  in  the  raiment 

Thy  blood  hath  purified. 

2  Oh,  hold  thou  up  my  goings, 
And  lead  from  strength  to  strength, 

That  unto  thee  in  Zion 

I  may  appear  at  length. 
Oh,  make  my  spirit  worthy 

To  join  the  ransomed  throng; 
Oh,  teach  my  lips  ^o  utter 

That  everlastmg  song. 

3  Oh,  give  that  last,  best  blessing 
That  even  saints  can  know, 

To  follow  in  thy  footsteps 

Wherever  thou  dost  go. 
Not  wisdom,  might,  or  glory, 

I  ask  to  win  above  ; 
I  ask  for  thee,  thee  only, 

O  thou  eternal  Love ! 

Rev.  Richard  Frederick  Littledale,  LL.  D., 
was  born  at  Dublin,  Ireland,  September  14, 
1833,  and  educated  at  Trinity  College  in  that 
city,  graduating  with  distinction  in  1855. 
He  took  Holy  Orders  the  following  year, 
and  was  appointed  curate  of  St.  Matthew's, 
Norwich,  England,  where  he  remained  until 
1857,  when  he  removed  to  the  church  of  St. 
Mary  the  Virgin,  Soho,  London.  In  1861  he 
was  compelled  by  ill  health  to  retire  from 
pastoral  work,  and  he  then  devoted  himself 
to  literature,  his  publications,  which  are  very 
numerous,  enbracing  works  upon  theological, 
historical,  and  liturgical  subjects.  Dr.  Little- 
dale  has  written  a  large  number  of  hymns, 
some  original,  others  translated  from  various 
languages.  The  one  quoted  here  is  from  his 
Priesfs  Prayer-Book,  published  in  1864.  486 

4,30  "  Captivity  Captive."  H.  M. 

The  happy  morn  is  come ! 

Triumphant  o'er  the  grave, 
The  Lord  hath  left  the  tomb, 
Omnipotent  to  save : 
Captivity  is  captive  led; 
For  Jesus  liveth  that  was  dead. 

2  Who  now  accuseth  them 
For  whom  their  Surety  died? 

Who  now  shall  those  condemn 
Whom  God  hath  justified? 
Captivity,  etc. 

3  Christ  hath  the  ransom  paid  ; 
The  glorious  work  is  done; 

On  him  our  help  is  laid, 
By  him  our  victorj-  won : 
Captivity,  etc. 


4  Hail,  the  triumphant  Lord  ! 

The  resurrection  thou ! 
We  bless  thy  sacred  Word, 

Before  thy  throne  we  bow  : 
Captivity,  etc. 

The  hymn  before  us  is  the  work  of  Rev. 
Thomas  Haweis,  and  was  first  published  in 
his  Carmina  Christo,  1792.  It  was  written 
for  an  Easter  service  and  its  refrain  was  evi- 
dently suggested  by  Ephesians  4:8:  "  Where- 
fore he  saith,  When  he  ascended  up  on  high, 
he  led  captivity  captive,  and  gave  gifts  unto 
men." 


"Earth's  Redeemer.'''  8s,  7s.  D. 

Hallelujah  !  sing  to  Jesus  ! 

His  the  scepter,  his  the  throne  ; 
Halleluiah  !  his  the  triumph. 

His  the  victory  alone ; 
Hark  !  the  songs  of  peaceful  Zion 

Thunder  like  a  mighty  flood  ; 
Jesus  out  of  every  nation 

Hath  redeemed  us  by  his  blood. 

2  Hallelujah  !  not  as  orphans 
Are  we  left  in  sorrow  now ; 

Hallelujah  !  he  is  near  us, 
Faith  believes,  nor  questions  how ; 

Though  the  cloud  from  sight  received  him, 
When  the  forty  days  were  o'er. 

Shall  our  hearts  forget  his  promise, 
"  I  am  with  you  evermore  "  ? 

3  Hallelujah  !  Bread  of  angels, 
Thou  on  earth  our  food,  our  stay  ! 

Hallelujah  !  hear  the  sinful 

Flee  to  thee  from  day  to  day ; 
Intercessor,  Friend  of  sinners. 

Earth's  Redeemer,  plead  for  me. 
Where  the  songs  of  all  the  sinless 

Sweep  across  the  crystal  sea. 


This  poem  by  William  Chatterton  Dix  was 
written  about  1866,  and  first  published  in  his 
Altar  Songs,  1867.  It  was  designed  especially 
to  aid  in  supplying  a  demand  for  more  Eu- 
charistic  hymns  in  the  Church  of  England  ser- 
vice, and  it  has  passed  into  many  collections 
in  both  Great  Britain  and  America.  Some- 
times it  is  found  in  a  slightly  altered  or  ab- 
breviated form. 


The  True  Messiah. 


s,  7s,  4s. 


Lo,  HE  comes,  with  clouds  descending. 
Once  for  favored  sinners  slain  ; 

Thousand  thousand  saints  attending 
Swell  the  triumph  of  his  train  ; 

Hallelujah  ! 
God  appears  on  earth  to  reign. 

2  Every  eye  shall  now  behold  him, 
Robed  in  dreadful  majesty  ; 

Those  who  set  at  naught  and  sold  him, 
Pierced,  and  nailed  him  to  the  tree. 

Deeply  wailing, 
Shall  the  true  Messiah  see. 

3  Yea,  Amen  ;  let  all  adore  thee. 
High  on  thine  eternal  throne  : 

Saviour,  take  the  power  and  glory ; 
Claim  the  kingdom  for  thine  own. 

Oh,  come  quickly, 
Hallelujah  !  Come,  Lord,  come. 


5IO 


THE    LORD   JESUS   CHRIST. 


This  hymn  has  passed  through  so  many 
transformations  that  its  history  is  somewhat 
complicated.  It  is  supposed  to  have  been 
originally  the  work  of  Rev.  John  Cennick,  and 
it  is  known  to  have  been  sung  by  the  congre- 
gation of  the  Moravian  Chapel,  Dublin,  April 
20,  1750.  The  earliest  printed  text  appeared 
in  the  1752  edition  of  Cennick's  Collection  of 
Sacred  Hymns.  In  1758  Rev.  Charles  Wesley 
published  his  Hymns  of  Intercession  for  All 
Mankind,  the  thirty-ninth  poem  being  a  ver- 
sion which  corresponds  closely  with  the  pres- 
ent form.  The  first  and  second  stanzas  were 
identical  with  our  hymn,  while  the  fourth  stanza 
becomes  the  third  here,  and  is  but  slightly  al- 
tered. Since  the  date  of  Wesley's  adaptation 
countless  versions  and  centos  have  been  made ; 
more  than  twenty  are  now  in  common  use, 
and  many  imitations  exist.  All  these  testify 
to  the  power  and  beauty  of  the  original,  which 
has  inspired  so  many  efforts  to  rival  it.  In 
Anglican  Hymnology  this  is  reckoned  as  No. 
3  in  the  First  Rank  hymns. 


487  Waiting  and  IVatching.  8s,  7s,  4s. 

O'er  the  distant  mountains  breaking 

Comes  the  reddening  dawn  of  day ; 
Rise,  my  soul,  from  sleep  awaking, 

Rise,  and  sing,  and  watch,  and  pray: 
'T  is  thy  Saviour, 

On  his  bright  returning  way. 

2  O  thou  long-expected  !  wear>' 
Waits  my  anxious  soul  for  thee, 

Life  is  dark,  and  earth  is  dreary. 
Where  thy  light  I  do  not  see : 

O  my  Saviour, 
When  wilt  thou  return  to  me? 

3  Nearer  is  my  soul's  salvation. 
Spent  the  night,  the  day  at  hand ; 

Keep  me  in  my  lowly  station. 
Watching  for  thee,  till  I  stand, 

O  my  Saviour, 
In  thy  bright,  thy  promised  land. 

4  With  my  lamp  well  trimmed  and  burning. 
Swift  to  hear  and  slow  to  roam, 

Watching  for  thy  glad  returning 
To  restore  me  to  my  home. 

Come,  my  Saviour, 
Thou  hast  promised  :  quickly  come. 

In  the  Hymns  of  Love  and  Praise  of  Dr. 
John  S.  B.  Monsell,  1 863,  this  is  found  with 
its  definitive  title  "  Second  Advent." 

Christian  biography  would  make  very  evi- 
dent the  fact  that  the  best  men  and  women 
the  world  has  ever  known  have,  as  they  grew 
in  grace,  grown  more  and  more  in  the  eager- 
ness of  the  anticipation  with  which  they  have 
longed  for  the  presence  of  Jesus  the  Saviour. 
To  them  heaven  might  have  been  defined  as 
the  place  where  Christ  is.  Its  supreme  joy 
would  be  found  in  the  disclosure  of  his  com-  *®^ 
panionship.  The  weary  will  have  rest,  the 
harassed  will  receive  peace,  the  sad  will  be 
comforted,  the  parted  and  the  pure  will  meet 


again.  All  this  is  full  of  glad  welcome. 
But  the  main  anticipation  of  spiritual  believers 
in  looking  to  the  end  of  their  journey  centers 
upon  the  person  of  the  divine  Redeemer. 

495  "  How  long,  O  Lord?"  7s,  6s.  D. 

How  long,  O  Lord  our  Saviour, 

Wilt  thou  remain  away? 
Our  hearts  are  growing  weary 

At  thy  so  long  delay  ; 
Oh,  when  shall  come  the  moment, 

When,  brighter  far  than  morn. 
The  sunshine  of  thy  glory 

Shall  on  thy  people  dawn  ? 

2  How  long,  O  heavenly  Bridegroom, 

How  long  wilt  thou  delay? 
And  yet  how  few  are  grieving 

That  thou  dost  absent  stay  ! 
Oh,  may  our  lamps  be  burning, 

Our  loins  well  girded  be, 
Each  longing  heart  preparing 

With  joy  thy  face  to  see  ! 

Rev.  James  George  Deck  published  this  as 
an  original  composition  in  his  Hymns  for  the 
Poor  of  the  Flock,  1838.  It  bears  the  title, 
"  Second  Advent  Desired."  We  are  all  agreed 
that  the  great  glory  of  the  future  state  will 
be  found  in  the  personal  companionship  of 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  somewhere.  "  Then 
we  which  are  alive  and  remain  shall  be  caught 
up  together  with  them  in  the  clouds,  to  meet 
the  Lord  in  the  air  :  and  so  shall  we  ever  be 
with  the  Lord." 

I  do  not  know  any  class  of  expositors  who 
believe  that  saints  are  to  remain,  or  that  Christ 
is  to  have  his  permanent  residence,  "  in  the  air." 
Dr.  Candlish,  in  his  commentary  on  the  book 
of  Genesis,  and  Dr.  Chalmers,  in  his  sermon 
on  the  New  Heavens  and  the  New  Earth,  seem 
to  have  thought  that  this  world  of  ours  was 
going  to  be  purified  and  then  made  the  home 
of  the  redeemed,  as  it  once  was  the  home  of 
our  holy  race  before  the  fall.  Many  theolo- 
gians believe  that  heaven  is  a  distinct  place  of 
abode  now,  and  will  be  tenanted  by  all  the 
good  and  pure  in  heart,  when  they  shall  see 
God.     There  are  wide  differences  here. 

But  most  Christians  are  under  quite  pro- 
found conviction  that,  as  the  chief  pain  and 
penalty  for  the  wicked  is  that  they  shall  "  be 
punished  with  everlasting  destruction  from 
the  presence  of  the  Lord,"  so  the  chief'  re- 
joicing and  glory  for  the  justified  will  be' 
found  in  the  sharing  of  that  "  presence " 
through  eternity.  As  Samuel  Rutherford 
used  to  say,  "  The  Lamb  is  all  the  glory  of 
Immanuel's  land." 


The  TtiumpharU  Victor. 

Sons  ofZion,  raise  your  songs; 
Praise  to  Zion's  King  belongs  ; 
His,  the  Victor's  crown  and  fame  : 
Glory  to  the  Saviour's  name  ! 


7s.  D. 


COMING   AGAIN. 


511 


Sore  the  strife,  but  rich  the  prize, 
Precious  in  the  Victor's  eyes  : 
Glorious  is  the  work  achieved — 
Satan  vanquished,  man  relieved ! 

2  Sing  we  then  the  Victor's  praise; 

Go  ye  forth  and  strew  the  ways ; 

Bid  him  welcome  to. his  throne: 

He  is  worthy,  he  alone  ! 

Place  the  crown  upon  his  brow ; 

Every  knee  to  him  shall  bow  ; 

Him  the  brightest  seraph  sings ; 

Heaven  proclaims  him  "  King  of  kings!" 

This  is  also  one  of  Rev.  Thomas  Kelly's 
Hymns  on  Various  Passages  of  Scripture, 
1820-26.  It  is  entitled  "  The  Exalted  Sav- 
iour." 

The  glory  of  Jesus  Christ  is  in  the  presence 
of  the  Father,  and  likewise  without  beginning 
and  without  end.  Where  was  the  Saviour 
previous  to  his  incarnation  }  Perhaps  it  will 
give  to  some  Bible  readers  a  surprise  to  be 
told  that  the  best  answer  to  this  question  is 
given  in  the  unfamiliar  book  of  Proverbs 
(chapter  8)  :  "  The  Lord  possessed  me  in  the 
beginning  of  his  way,  before  his  works  of  old. 
.  .  .  While  as  yet  he  had  not  made  the 
earth,  nor  the  fields,  nor  the  highest  part  of 
the  dust  of  the  world.  .  .  .  Then  I  was 
by  him,  as  one  brought  up  with  him  :  and  I 
was  daily  his  delight,  rejoicing  always  before 
him."  If  we  simply  understand  that  the  Wis- 
dom of  the  Old  Testament  means  the  same 
as  the  Word  of  the  New — the  divine  Logos — 
then  we  shall  put  another  verse  of  John  easily 
alongside  :  "  In  the  beginning  was  the  Word, 
and  the  Word  was  with  God,  and  the  Word 
was  God.  The  same  was  in  the  beginning 
with  God." 


500  "  Desire  of  Nations.''  7s.  D. 

Come,  Desire  of  nations,  come! 
Hasten,  Lord,  the  general  doom  ! 
Hear  the  Spirit  and  the  Bride ; 
Come,  and  take  us  to  thy  side : 
Thou,  who  hast  our  place  prepared, 
Make  us  meet  for  our  reward  ; 
Then,  with  all  thy  saints  descend  • 
Then,  our  earthly  trials  end. 

2  Mindful  of  thy  chosen  race. 
Shorten  these  vindictive  days ; 
Hear  us  now,  and  save  thine  own, 
Who  for  full  redemption  groan  ! 

Now  destroy  the  Man  of  Sin,  cs  <>• 

Now  thine  ancient  flock  bring  in  !  514 

Filled  with  righteousness  divine. 

Claim  a  ransomed  world  for  thine. 

3  Plant  thy  heavenly  kingdom  here; 
Glorious  in  thy  saints  appear  : 
Speak  the  sacred  number  sealed, 
Speak  the  mystery  revealed  ; 

Take  to  thee  thy  royal  power ; 
Reign  !  when  sin  shall  be  no  more ; 
Reign  !  when  death  no  more  shall  be ; 
Reign  to  all  eternity  ! 

This  is  also  to  be  credited  to  Rev.  Charles 
Wesley.     It  is  in  his  Hymns  occasioned  by  the 


Earthquake,  March  8,  1 7 50.  In  the  midst  of 
that  commotion  Charles  Wesley's  sister  Hetty 
— Mrs.  Wright — died  in  much  peace,  near 
Soho  Square,  London.  W^hen  all  London 
was  in  a  state  of  violent  consternation,  the  in- 
habitants fleeing  into  the  open  country,  fool- 
ishly thinking  the  earthquake  might  not  there 
reach  them,  and  supposing  that  the  apparent 
threatenings  of  the  Almighty  were  against  the 
buildings  and  not  against  the  citizens  of  Lon- 
don, multitudes  giving  up  everything  from 
fear,  and  crowding  round  the  Wesleys  and 
Whitefield  in  their  homes,  at  the  Foundry, 
and  in  Hyde  Park,  Moorfields,  and  Kensing- 
ton, then,  and  under  such  exciting  circum- 
stances, the  faith  of  Charles  Wesley  was 
manifested  by  his  writing  and  printing  imme- 
diately such  hymns  as  this.  Thus  the  faith 
of  the  Christian  poet  enabled  him  to  pray  for 
that  which  the  affrighted  unbelieving  world- 
lings so  much  dreaded ! 

502  "  The  Hope  of  Glory:'  P.  M. 

In  us  the  hope  of  glory, 

O  risen  Lord,  art  thou  ; 
The  first-fruits  of  the  Spirit 
Are  in  us  now. 

2  Oh,  come  in  all  thy  glory. 
Our  great  Immanuel! 

Come  forth,  our  Prince  and  Saviour, 
With  us  to  dwell. 

3  Bring  thine  eternal  Sabbath, 
Bring  thine  eternal  day. 

And  cause  all  grief  and  sighing 
To  flee  away. 

4  To  thee.  Almighty  Father, 
O  Saviour,  unto  thee, 

To  thee,  Creator-Spirit, 
All  glory  be ! 

Of  Edward  William  Eddis,  that  strange 
representative  of  the  "  Catholic  Apostolic 
Church,"  or  "  Irvingites,"  as  some  call  those 
mysterious  people  who  claimed  to  be  still 
able  to  speak  with  "  tongues,"  we  have  here 
a  quaint  and  good  hymn,  which  he  entitled 
"  The  Second  Advent  Desired."  It  was 
probably  printed  on  a  slip  for  distribution  ;  it 
is  not  found  in  his  Hymns  for  the  Use  of  the 
Churches,  nor  have  we  any  date  for  it. 


Watchfulness.  S.  M. 

Ye  servants  of  the  Lord ! 

Each  in  his  office  wait. 
Observant  of  his  heavenly  word, 

And  watchful  at  his  gate. 

2  Let  all  your  lamps  be  bright, 
-And  trim  the  g:olden  flame  ; 

Gird  up  your  loins  as  in  his  sight. 
For  awful  is  his  name. 

3  Watch — 't  is  your  Lord's  command  ; 
And  while  we  speak  he 's  near ! 

Mark  the  first  signal  of  his  hand, 
And  ready  all  appear. 


512 


THE   HOLY   SPIRIT. 


4  Oh.  happy  servant  he, 

In  such  a  posture  found  ! 
He  shall  his  Lord  with  rapture  see, 

And  be  with  honor  crowned. 

This  is  taken  from  Orton's  edition  of  Dr. 
Philip  Doddridge's  Hymns  published  after 
his  death,  1755.  He  entitled  it  "Christian 
Activity  and  Zeal."  The  reference  is  to 
Matthew  24 :  42-46. 

520  Guidance  and  Growth.  P.  M. 

Come  thou,  oh,  come: 
Sweetest  and  kindliest, 
Giver  of  tranquil  rest 
Unto  the  weary  soul ; 
In  all  anxiety 

With  power  from  heaven  on  high 
Console. 

2  Come  thou,  oh,  come  : 
Help  in  the  hour  of  need. 
Strength  of  the  broken  reed, 
Guide  of  each  lonely  one; 
Orphans'  and  widows'  stay, 
Who  tread  in  life's  hard  way 

Alone. 

3  Come  thou,  oh,  come: 
Glorious  and  shadow -free, 
Star  of  the  stormy  sea ; 
Light  of  the  tempest-tost ; 
Harbor  our  souls  to  save 
When  hope  upon  the  wave 

Is  lost. 

4  Come  thou,  oh,  come: 
Joy  in  life's  narrow  path, 
Hope  in  the  hour  of  death, 
Come,  blessed  Spirit,  come ; 
Lead  thou  us  tenderly. 

Till  we  shall  find  with  thee 
Our  home. 

Rev.  Gerard  Moultrie  published  this  quaint 
poem  in  his  Hymns  and  Lyrics,  1867.  It  is 
a  translation  of  a  Latin  poem  of  the  twelfth 
century,  "  Veni,  jam  vent,  benignissime." 
Who  composed  the  original  is  not  stated  : 
but  the  fact  is  announced  that  in  sentiment 
and  phraseology  it  is  almost  identical  with  a 
prose  passage  in  one  of  the  discourses  of  St. 
Anselm  of  Canterbury.  Rev.  Samuel  Wil- 
loughby  Duffield,  in  his  Latin  Hymns,  as- 
sumes that  Anselm  was  the  author  of  it,  and 
then  adds  a  very  felicitous  rendering  of  it  into 
English,  beginning,  "  Come,  yes,  and  quickly 


52  I  The  Fount  of  Light.  C.  M. 

Come,  Holy  Ghost !  our  hearts  inspire, 

Let  us  thine  influence  prove  ; 
Source  of  the  old  prophetic  fire  ! 

Fountain  of  light  and  love ! 

2  Come,  Holy  Ghost !  for,  moved  by  thee. 
The  prophets  wrote  and  spoke  ! 

Unlock  the  truth — thyself  the  key; 
Unseal  the  sacred  book. 

3  Expand  thy  wings,  celestial  Dove ! 
Brood  o'er  our  nature's  night ; 

On  our  disordered  spirits  move,    ' 
And  let  there  now  be  light. 


4  God,  through  himself,  we  then  shall  know, 

If  thou  within  us  shine  ; 
And  sound,  with  all  thy  saints  below, 

The  depths  of  love  divine. 

From  Rev.  Charles  Wesley's  Hymns  and 
Sacred  Poems,  1740.  It  is  entitled,  "Before 
Reading  Holy  Scriptures."  The  sentiment 
of  this  song  of  supplication  is  excellent  for 
our  day.  The  reference  is  to  I.  Peter 
I  :  19-21.  It  is  only  the  inspired  Word  of 
God,  clear  and  inerrant,  that  can  possibly 
make  men  know  God  "  through  himself." 

54  1  "  The  spirit  of  Christ."  P.  M. 

Light,  that  from  the  dark  abyss 
Madest  all  things,  none  amiss. 
To  share  thy  beauty,  share  thy  bliss. 
Come  to  us :  come. 

2  Light,  that  dost  o'er  all  things  reign. 
Light  that  dost  all  life  maintain  ; 

O  Light,  that  dost  create  again. 
Come  to  us :  come. 

3  Light  of  men,  that  left  the  skies. 
Light  that  looked  through  human  eyes. 
And  died  in  darkness  as  man  dies. 

Come  to  us  :  come. 

4  Light  that  stooped  to  rise  and  raise, 
Soared  to  God  above  our  gaze, 

And  still  art  with  us  all  the  days. 
Come  to  us  :  come. 

5  We  have  done  great  wrong  to  thee. 
Yet  we  do  belong  to  thee : 

Oh,  make  our  life  one  song  to  thee. 
Come  to  us  :  come. 

Rev.  Edward  Bickersteth  Birks,  M.  A., 
was  born  at  Kelshall,  Herts,  England,  in  1849, 
and  educated  at  Cambridge,  graduating  in 
1870.  He  took  Holy  Orders,  and  in  1878  be- 
came curate  of  St.  Mary's,  Nottingham.  In 
1 88 1  he  was  appointed  vicar  of  Trumpington, 
and  three  years  later  he  accepted  the  vicarage 
of  St.  Michael's  at  Cambridge.  Mr.  Birks  is 
best  known  as  the  author  of  the  Metrical  Lit- 
any quoted  above,  which  was  first  published  in 
Evening  Hours,  1871,  and  later  in  the  Hym- 
nal Companion. 

552  "  The  IVondrous  IVay."  7s,  5s. 

Let  thy  wondrous  way  be  known. 
And  let  every  nation  own 
Thou  art  God,  and  thou  alone : 
Spirit,  hear  our  prayer. 

2  Let  each  one  thy  glorious  name 
Magnify,  and  spread  thy  fame. 
And  thy  love  let  all  proclaim : 

Spirit,  hear  our  prayer. 

3  Let  the  nations  join  to  sing, 
And  let  hallelujahs  ring 

To  the  righteous  Judge  and  King  : 
Spirit,  hear  our  prayer. 

4  Then  shall  blessings  from  thy  hand 
Fall  in  showers  upon  the  land, 

And  the  world  in  rapture  stand : 
Spirit,  hear  our  prayer. 

We  found  this  excellent  litany  in  an  Eng- 
lish collection,  with  the  name  "  A.  Jackson  " 


THE   HOLY    SPIRIT. 


513 


appended  to  it.  Who  this  author  is  we  have 
been  unable  to  ascertain ;  and  this  is  to  be 
deplored  the  more,  since  several  other  good 
litanies  bear  the  same  name. 

553  "  The  spirit  searcheth."  7s,  6s. 

Spirit  of  the  Only  Wise, 
Thou  in  whom  all  knowledge  lies, 
Reading  all  with  searching  eyes- 
Hear  us.  Holy  Spirit. 

2  Comforter,  to  whom  we  owe 
All  that  we  rejoice  to  know 
Of  our  Saviour's  work  below, 

Hear  us,  Holy  Spirit. 

3  Spirit,  whom  our  failings  grieve, 
Whom  the  world  will  not  receive, 
Who  dost  help  us  to  believe, 

/      Hear  us.  Holy  Spirit. 

4  Spirit,  guarding  us  from  ill, 
Band  aright  our  stubborn  will ; 
Though  we  grieve  thee,  patient  still — 

Hear  us.  Holy  Spirit. 

5  Thou  whose  grace  the  Church  doth  fill, 
Showing  her  God's  perfect  will, 
Making  Jesus  present  still  ; 

Hear  us,  Holy  Spirit. 

The  confusion,  which  has' to  be  confessed, 
concerning  most  of  what  are  denominated 
"  Litanies,"  is  really  owing  to  the  fact  that 
the  editors  and  compilers  of  the  hymnals 
reckon  these  pieces  as  supplementary  in  the 
same  sense  as  they  do  doxologies.  They  rarely 
give  the  data  we  desire.  Moreover,  the  pieces 
contain  as  many  as  twenty  stanzas  and  more, 
and  from  these  centos  are  usually  prepared. 
The  one  now  before  us  is  by  the  Rev.  Thomas 
Benson  Pollock,  Archdeacon  of  Chester  Ca- 
thedral, England. 

554  Keeping  and  Warning.  7s,  6s. 

Spirit  blest,  who  art  adored 
With  the  Father  and  the  Word, 
One  eternal  God  and  Lord  : 
Hear  us.  Holy  Spirit. 

2  Holy  Spirit,  heavenly  Dove, 
Dew  descending  from  above. 
Breath  of  life,  and  fire  of  love; 

Hear  us,  Holy  Spirit. 

3  Spirit  guiding  us  aright. 
Spirit  making  darkness  light. 
Spirit  of  resistless  might ; 

Hear  us,  Holy  Spirit. 

4  Keep  us  in  the  narrow  way, 
Warn  us  when  we  go  astray. 
Plead  within  us  when  we  pray ; 

Hear  us.  Holy  Spirit. 

5  Holy,  loving,  as  thou  art. 
Come,  and  live  within  our  heart, 
Never  from  us  to  depart ; 

Hear  us.  Holy  Spirit. 

This  litany,  like  the  one  preceding,  is  the 
work  of  Rev.  Thomas  Benson  Pollock.  He 
has  issued  a  volume  entitled  Metrical  Lita- 
nies for  Special  Services  and  General  Use, 
1870;  and  since  then  another,  Litany  Ap- 


pendix, 1 87 1.     In  these  most  of  his  compo- 
sitions of  this  kind  can  be  found. 

569  "  Blood  0/ J^-siis."  8s,  5s,  3s. 

Precious,  precious  blood  of  Jesus, 

Shed  on  Calvary, 
Shed  for  rebels,  shed  for  sinners, 

Shed  for  thee ! 

2  Though  thy  Sins  are  red  like  crimson. 

Deep  in  scarlet  glow, 
Jesus'  precious  blood  shall  wash  thee 
White  as  snow. 

3  Precious  blood  that  hath  redeemed  us  ! 

All  the  price  is  paid  ! 
Perfect  pardon  now  is  offered. 
Peace  is  made. 

4  Precious  blood  !  by  this  we  conquer 

In  the  fiercest  fight, 
Sin  and  Satan  overcoming 
By  its  might. 

This  characteristic  hymn  was  composed  by 
Miss  Frances  Ridley  Havergal  at  Ormont 
Dessons,  September,  1874.  It  was  published 
in  1878,  in  Loyal  Responses,  and  in  Life 
Chords,  1880.  The  sentiment  of  the  piece  is 
found  in  Isaiah  i  :  18. 

582  The  Story  of  the  Cross.  ^s,  6s.  D. 

Tell  me  the  old,  old  story 

Of  unseen  things  above, 
Of  Jesus  and  his  glory. 

Of  Jesus  and  his  love. 
Tell  me  the  story  simply. 

As  to  a  little  child. 
For  I  am  weak  and  weary. 

And  helpless  and  defiled. — Cho. 

2  Tell  me  the  story  slowly. 
That  I  may  take  it  in — 

That  wonderful  Redemption, 

God's  remedy  for  sin  ! 
Tell  me  the  ston,-  often. 

For  I  forget  so  soon  ! 
The  "  early  dew  "  of  morning 

Has  passed  away  at  noon  ! — Cho. 

3  Tell  me  the  story  softly. 
With  earnest  tones  and  grave ; 

Remember!  I  'm  the  sinner 

Whom  Jesus  came  to  save. 
Tell  me  that  story  always. 

If  you  would  really  be. 
In  any  time  of  trouble, 

A  comforter  to  me.— -Cho. 

4  Tell  me  the  same  old  story 
When  you  have  cause  to  fear 

That  this  world's  empty  glory 
Is  costing  me  too  dear. 

Yes,  and  when  that  world's  glory- 
Is  drawing  on  my  soul, 

Tell  me  the  old,  old  story  : 
"  Christ  Jesus  makes  thee  whole." — Cho. 

Nothing  seems  to  be  known  concerning  the 
author  of  this  excellent  and  popular  hymn, 
except  that  her  name  is  Miss  Katherine  Han- 
key,  that  she  is  an  Englishwoman,  and  that 
in  1 866  she  published  The  Old,  Old  Story ; 
and  in  1879,  The  Old,  Old  Story,  and  other 
Verses  ;  and  between  those  two  dates,  some 
enlargements  and  revisions  bearing  the  name 
oi  Heart  to  Heart,  1870.  The  piece  is  quite 
33 


SH 


THE   GOSPEL: — ATONEMENT    PROVIDED. 


long,  and  is  framed  as  a  Life  of  Jesus  in 
meter.  It  has  two  parts,  "  The  Story  Wanted," 
and  "  The  Story  Told."  It  has  appeared  in 
various  forms,  and  been  translated  into  many 
languages  ;  sometimes  the  author  has  accom- 
panied it  with  music. 

The  tune  to  which  in  this  country  the 
hymn  is  invariably  sung  was  composed  by 
an  American,  Dr.  William  Howard  Doane. 
He  has  related  the  incident  of  its  origin. 
"  In  1867  I  was  attending  the  international 
meeting  of  the  Young  Men's  Christian  Asso- 
ciation at  Montreal.  Among  those  present 
was  Major-General  Russell,  then  in  command 
of  the  English  forces  during  the  Fenian  ex- 
citement. He  arose  in  the  meeting  and  read 
the  words  of  the  song  from  a  sheet  of  fools- 
cap paper,  the  tears  streaming  down  his 
bronzed  cheeks  as  he  read.  I  was  much  im- 
pressed, and  immediately  requested  the  priv- 
ilege of  making  a  copy.  He  gave  me  the 
copy  from  which  he  had  read.  I  wrote  the 
music  for  the  song  while  on  the  stage-coach 
one  hot  summer  afternoon  between  the  Glen 
Falls  House  and  the  Crawford  House  in  the 
White  Mountains.  That  evening  we  sung  it 
in  the  parlors  of  the  hotel  and  thought  it 
pretty,  though  we  scarcely  anticipated  the 
popularity  which  was  subsequently  accorded 
it.  It  was  afterwards  published  in  sheet 
form  in  Cincinnati." 


583  The  Old,  Old  Story.  7s,  6s.  D. 

I  LOVE  to  tell  the  story 

Of  unseen  things  above, 
Of  Jesus  and  his  glorj', 

Of  Jesus  and  his  love. 

1  love  to  tell  the  story, 
Because  I  know  't  is  true; 

It  satisfies  my  longings 
As  nothing  else  can  do. — Cho. 

2  I  love  to  tell  the  story  : 
'T  is  pleasant  to  repeat 

What  seems  each  time  I  tell  it 

More  wonderfully  sweet. 
I  love  to  tell  the  story  : 

For  some  have  never  heard 
The  message  of  salvation, 

From  God's  own  holy  word. — Cho. 

3  I  love  to  tell  the  story  ; 
For  those  who  know  it  best 

Seem  hungering  and  thirsting 

To  hear  it  like  the  rest. 
And  when,  in  scenes  of  glory, 

I  sing  the  New,  New  Song, 
'T  will  be  the  Old,  Old  Story 

That  I  have  loved  so  long. — Cho. 

This  is,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  part  of 
the  preceding  hymn,  for  it  is  taken  from  the 
concluding  portion  of  the  poem,  and  is  the 
complement  of  the  other,  as  designed  by  Miss 
Katherine  Hankey. 


584  Jesus'  Cross.  7s,  6s.  D. 

I  SAW  the  cross  of  Jesus, 
When  burdened  with  my  sin  ; 

1  sought  the  cross  of  Jesus, 
To  give  me  peace  within  ; 

1  brought  my  soul  to  Jesus, 
He  cleansed  it  in  his  blood  ; 

And  in  the  cross  of  Jclus 
I  found  my  peace  with  God. 

Cho. — No  righteousness,  no  merit. 
No  beauty  can  I  plead  ; 
Yet  in  the  cross  I  glory. 
My  title  there  I  read. 

2  Sweet  is  the  cross  of  Jceus  ! 
There  let  my  weary  lieart 

Still  rest  in  peace  uni^haken, 
Till  with  him,  ne'er  to  part ; 

And  then  in  strains  of  glory 
I  '11  sing  his  wondrous  power. 

Where  sin  can  never  enter. 
And  death  is  known  no  more. 

Cho. — I  love  the  cross  of  Jesus, 
It  tells  me  what  I  am  : 
A  vile  and  guilty  creature, 
Saved  only  through  the  Lamb. 

This  hymn  is  selected  from  the  Sacred 
Poems  and  Prose,  published  by  Rev.  Freder- 
ick Whitfield,  1861.  It  comes  to  nothing  to 
resolve  and  re-resolve,  and  then  remain  the 
same  man.  A  thorough  surrender  to  Jesus 
Christ,  one  that  renders  the  soul  a  new  crea- 
tion, is  alone  of  value. 

"  And  lacking  this,  no  man  hath  health  ; 
And  lacking  this,  no  man  hath  wealth  ; 
For  land  is  trash,  and  gold  is  dross. 
Success  is  failure,  gain  is  loss. 
Unless  there  lives  in  the  human  soul. 
As  hither  and  thither  its  passions  roll, 
Tossed  on  the  waves  of  this  mortal  sea, 
A  hope,  and  a  trust,  and  a  will,  and  a  faith. 
That  is  stronger  than  life,  and  is  stronger  than  death. 
And  equal  to  eternity  !" 


607  Light  and  Love. 

Behold  the  Lamb  of  God  ! 
O  tliou  for  sinners  slain, 
Let  it  not  be  in  vain 

That  thou  hast  died  ; 
Thee  for  my  Saviour  let  me  take, 
My  only  refuge  let  me  make 

Thy  pierced  side. 

2  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God  ! 
Into  the  sacred  flood 

Of  thy  most  precious  blood 

My  soul  I  cast : 
Wash  me  and  make  me  clean  within 
And  keep  me  pure  from  every  sin, 

Till  life  be  past. 

3  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God  ! 
All  hail.  Incarnate  Word, 
Thou,  everlasting  Lord, 

Saviour  most  blest ; 
Fill  us  with  love  that  never  faints, 
Grant  us  with  all  thy  blessed  saints 

Eternal  rest. 

4  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God  I 
Worthy  is  he  alone,     , 
That  sitteth  on  the  throne 

Of  God  above; 
One  with  the  Ancient  of  all  days. 
One  with  the  Comforter  in  praise, 

All  light  and  love. 


P.  M. 


INVITATIONS   AND   WARNINGS. 


515 


The  forms  in  which  this  hymn  appears  in 
the  various  collections,  as  well  as  the  fact  that 
many  compositions  occur  with  the  same  first 
line,  keep  the  critics  in  a  state  of  general  fer- 
ment. But  it  is  clear  that  Matthew  Bridges 
is  the  true  author  of  the  stanzas  before  us,  al- 
though it  has  to  be  admitted  that  great  altera- 
tions have  been  made  in  their  phraseology, 
and  almost  all  for  improvement.  It  was  pub- 
lished first  in  the  author's  Hymns  of  the 
Heart,  1848.  He  entitled  it  ''  Eccc  Agnus 
Dei''  and  gave  this  "  Behold  the  Lamb  of 
God,"  as  the  introduction  of  each  verse.  The 
Scriptural  reference  is  to  John  i  :  36. 


608 


"Flee for  Life." 


The  voice  of  free  grace  cries,  Escape  to  the  mountain. 
For  Adam's  lost  race  Christ  liath  opened  a  fountain  ; 
For  sin  and  uncleanness,  and  every  transgression, 
His  blood  flows  most  freely  in  streams  of  salvation. 
Hallelujah  to  the  Lamb,  etc. 

2  Ye  souls  that  are  wounded  !  oh,  flee  to  the  Saviour ! 
He  calls  you  in  mercy,  't  is  infinite  favor; 

Your  sins  are  increasing,  escape  to  the  mountain — 
His  blood  can  remove  them,  it  flows  from  the  fountain. 
Hallelujah  to  the  Lamb,  etc. 

3  With  joy  shall  we  stand  when  escaped  to  the  shore ; 
With  harps  in  our  hands  we  will  praise  him  the  more  ! 
We  '11  range  the  sweet  plains  on  the  banks  of  the  river. 
And  sing  of  salvation  for  ever  and  ever  ! 

Hallelujah  to  the  Lamb,  etc. 

Rev.  Richard  Burdsall  was  born  in  1735 
and  died  in  1824,  but  all  other  details  of  his 
life  are  lacking,  except  the  one  fact  that  he 
was  an  English  Wesleyan  minister  for  about 
sixty  years.  A  volume  of  his  "  Memoirs  "  is 
said  to  have  been  published  at  York,  and  to  it 
was  appended  the  hymn  which  began,  "  Now 
Christ  he  is  risen."  The  second  stanza  has 
become  the  first  of  our  version,  and  the  others 
have  been  so  much  altered  in  various  collec- 
tions that  it  is  impossible  to  trace  their  original 
form.  Indeed,  in  some  cases  new  stanzas 
have  been  added,  nobody  knows  by  whom. 
The  original  piece  contained  but  two.  In  1831 
Dr.  Thomas  Hastings  published  his  first  vol- 
ume. Spiritual  Songs  for  Social  Worship. 
In  this  the  hymn  has  three  stanzas,  one  of 
which  it  might  be  conjectured  the  compiler 
himself  wrote,  for  that  was  his  habit  some- 
times. It  is  likely  that  Dr.  Hastings  intro- 
duced to  the  American  public  the  hymn  as  a 
whole,  as  well  as  the  tune  (sometimes  named 
"  Scotland  ")  with  which  it  is  invariably  sung. 
At  the  bottom  of  page  89  in  Spiritual  Songs 
is  printed  this  very  suggestive  note :  "  This 
tune  has,  in  some  respects,  a  secular  origin ; 
but  having  been  written  as  a  song  of  wailing 
for  the  dead,  the  association  will  be  found  suf- 
ficiently in  character." 


615  Matt,  n  :  28.  ys. 

Come,  said  Jesus'  sacred  voice. 

Come,  and  make  my  paths  your  choice  ; 

1  will  guide  you  to  your  home  ; 
Weary  pilgnm,  hither  come. 

2  Thou  who,  homeless  and  forlorn. 
Long  hast  borne  the  proud  world's  scorn, 
Long  hast  roamed  the  barren  waste. 
Weary  wanderer,  hither  haste. 

3  Hither  come,  for  here  is  found 
Balm  that  flows  for  every  wound  ! 
Peace,  that  ever  shall  endure. 
Rest  eternal,  sacred,  sure. 

Mrs.  Anna  Lsetitia  Barbauld  wrote  this 
hymn,  and  it  was  published  in  the  revised 
edition  of  her  Poems,  1792.  It  is  a  para- 
phrase of  our  Lord's  invitation,  "  Come  unto 
me,  and  I  will  give  you  rest,"  Matthew 
II  :28. 


659 


"  Through  Peace  to  Light." 


C.  M. 


1  DO  not  ask  that  life  may  be, 
O  Lord,  a  pleasant  road  ; 

Nor  that  thou  wouldest  take  from  me 
Aught  of  its  weary  load. 

2  For  one  thing  chiefly  do  I  plead, 
Dear  Lord,  lead  me  aright ; 

Though  strength  should  fail,  and  heart  should  bleed, 
Lead  me  through  peace  to  light. 

3  I  do  not  ask  to  understand 
My  cross,  my  way  to  see  ; 

Let  me  in  darkness  feel  thy  hand, 
And  simply  follow  thee. 

4  Joy  is  like  day,  but  peace  divine 
May  rule  the  quiet  night  : 

Lead  me,  till  perfect  day  shall  shine, 
O  Lord,  through  peace  to  light. 


ADELAIDE  A.    PROCTER. 


We  are  indebted  for  this  beautiful  and  pa- 
thetic hymn  to  Miss  Adelaide  Anne  Procter, 
whose  brief  life  was  made  valuable   by  her 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENXE. 


516 

poetic  talent.  The  piece  first  appeared  in  her 
Legends  and  Lyrics  in  the  enlarged  edition, 
1862,  and  was  entitled  "  Resignation."  With 
slight  changes  of  rhythm  it  has  become  widely- 
popular. 

Lord  Bacon  says :  "  Prosperity  is  the  bless- 
ing of  the  Old  Testament ;  adversity  is  the 
blessing  of  the  New— which  carrieth  the 
greater  benediction,  and  the  clearer  revelation 
of  God's  favor.  Yet,  even  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, if  you  listen  to  David's  harp,  you  shall 
hear  as  many  hearse-like  airs  as  carols  ;  and 
the  pencil  of  the  Holy  Ghost  hath  labored 
more  in  describing  the  afflictions  of  Job  than 
the  felicities  of  Solomon.  Prosperity  is  not 
without  many  fears  and  distastes  :  and  ad- 
versity is  not  without  comforts  and  hopes. 
We  see  in  needleworks  and  embroideries,  [that] 
it  is  more  pleasing  to  have  a  lively  work  upon  a 
sad  and  solemn  ground,  than  to  have  a  dark 
and  melancholy  work  upon  lightsome  ground  : 
judge,  therefore,  [in  this]  of  the  pleasure  of 
the  heart  by  the  pleasure  of  the  eye.  Certainly 
virtue  is  like  precious  odors — most  fragrant 
when  they  are  incensed  or  crushed  :  for  pros- 
perity doth  best  discover  vice ;  but  adversity 
doth  best  discover  virtue." 

674  The  Sabbath  of  the  Sea.  iis,  los. 

When  winds  are  raging  o'er  the  upper  ocean, 
And  billows  wild  contend  with  angry  roar, 

'T  is  said,  far  down,  beneath  the  wild  commotion, 
That  peaceful  stillness  reigneth  evermore, 

2  Far,  far  beneath,  the  noise  of  tempests  dieth, 
And  silver  waves  chime  ever  peacefully'. 

And  no  rude  storm,  how  fierce  soe'er  it  flieth, 
Disturbs  the  Sabbath  of  that  deeper  sea. 

3  So  to  the  heart  that  knows  thy  love,  O  Purest, 
There  is  a  temple,  sacred  evermore  ; 

And  all  the  babble  of  Life's  angry  voices 
Dies  in  hushed  stillness  at  its  peaceful  door. 

4  Far,  far  away  the  roar  of  passion  dieth. 

And  loving  thoughts  rise  kind  and  peacefully. 
And  no  rude  storm,  how  fierce  soe'er  it  flieth, 
Disturbs  the  soul  that  dwells,  O  Lord,  in  thee. 

Although  the  writer  of  this  hymn  is  a  poet 
of  no  ordinary  merit,  her  claim  to  immortal- 
ity rests  upon  her  first  novel,  the  book  which 
may  truly  be  said  to  have  influenced  the 
world,  and  to  have  been  a  most  powerful 
factor  in  the  emancipation  of  the  slaves  in 
this  country.  Mrs.  Harriet  Elizabeth  Beecher 
Stowe  was  born  at  Litchfield,  Connecticut, 
June  14,  181 1,  and  is  the  sixth  child  of  the 
famous  preacher  Dr.  Lyman  Beecher.  Liv- 
ing in  an  atmosphere  of  utmost  mental  activ- 
ity, she  early  showed  unusual  talent,  and  be- 
fore the  age  of  twenty  had  begun  literary 
work.  In  1836  she  married  Rev.  Calvin  E. 
Stowe,  D.  D.,  then  a  professor  at  Lane  Theo- 
logical Seminary,  Cincinnati,  Ohio.  During 
her  residence  there  she  frequently  visited  the 


slave  States  and  acquired  an  intimate  knowl- 
edge of  Southern  life.  Fugitives  were  often 
assisted  by  her  family  to  escape  to  Canada, 


■i 


MRS.    HARRlEi     btiiCHcK 


and  she  felt  with  intensity  the  indifference  of 
Christians  to  the  cruelties  involved  in  slavery. 
In  1850  she  removed  with  her  husband  to 
Brunswick,  Me.,  where  he  was  made  profes- 
sor in  Bowdoin  College.  Two  years  after  this 
she  went  to  Andover,  Mass.,  to  reside,  her 
husband  having  become  Professor  of  Sacred 
Literature  in  the  Seminary  there.  It  was 
about  this  time  she  planned  and  published 
"  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,"  which  has  been  since 
translated  into  more  than  twenty  languages, 
and  has  passed  into  the  world's  history.  It 
was  first  given  to  the  public  as  a  serial  in 
T/ie  National  Era  at  Washington,  D.  C, 
running  from  June,  1851,  to  April,  1852; 
then  it  was  issued  in  book  form,  Boston, 
1852.  This  wonderful  production  was  fol- 
lowed at  brief  intervals  by  sketches  of  travel, 
novels,  essays  and  miscellaneous  worlcs,  most 
of  them  vivid  pictures  of  New  England  life  and 
character.  The  hymn  given  above  is  one  of 
three  which  appeared  in  the  Plymouth  Collec- 
tion, 1855,  edited  by  her  brother.  Rev.  Henry 
Ward  Beecher.  Mrs.  Stowe  is  at  the  pres- 
ent time  living  in  Hartford,  Conn.  She  is 
now  (1893)  more  than  fourscore  years  old, 
and  is  rarely  seen  in  public.  A  paragraph  in 
a  late  newspaper  says  that  she  sometimes 
visits  the  houses  of  her  sister,  Mrs.  Jonathan 
Hooker,  and  of  Mrs.  Charles  Dudley  Warner. 


CONFLICT   WITH   SIN. 


517 


Her  friends  engage  her  in  light  conversation 
and  entertain  her  with  singing,  of  which  latter 
she  is  very  fond.  "  Mrs.  Hooker  generally 
sings  the  older  songs,  familiar  to  Mrs.  Stowe 
in  her  early  days,  and  preferably  old  and 
familiar  hymns.  These  she  seems  to  enjoy 
more  than  anything  else.  In  the  selection  of 
the  hymns,  however,  Mrs.  Stowe  always 
chooses  a  stirring,  lively  movement.  Any- 
thing of  a  slow,  melancholy,  or  sentimental 
order  fails  to  interest  her.  As  one  illustra- 
tion of  the  peculiarity  of  her  mental  powers, 
Mrs.  Hooker  cites  the  critical  attention  which 
her  sister  gives  to  hymns  familiar  to  her  in 
her  early  life.  A  word  omitted,  or  a  wrong 
word  used,  she  notices  on  the  instant,  and 
makes  the  correction.  Certain  lines  and 
ideas  appear  to  strongly  impress  themselves 
upon  her  mind,  and  her  comments  are  at 
times  very  striking." 

675  "  IVori  for  Jesus. "  6s ,  5s . 

Christian,  work  for  Jesus, 

Who  on  eartli  for  thee 
Labored,  wearied,  suffered, 

Died  upon  the  tree. 

2  Work  with  hps  so  fervid 
That  thy  words  may  prove 

Thou  hast  brought  a  message 
From  the  God  of  love. 

3  Work  with  heart  that  burneth, 
Humbly  at  his  feet 

Priceless  gems  to  offer. 
For  his  crown  made  meet. 

4  Work  with  prayer  unceasing. 
Borne  on  faith's  strong  wing, 

Earnestly  beseeching 
Trophies  for  the  King. 

5  Work  while  strength  endureth, 
Until  death  draw  near ; 

Then  thy  Lord's  sweet  welcome 
Thou  in  heaven  shalt  hear. 

• 

Mrs.  Mary  Haslock  is  named  as  the  author 
of  the  hymn  quoted  here  from  the  English 
Congregational  Church  Hymnal,  1887.  It 
bears  the  title,  "  Sunday  School  Festival." 
We  can  obtain  no  information  whatever  re- 
garding the  personal  history  of  this  lady.  Her 
poem  is  simple,  earnest,  direct.  The  teaching 
is  found  in  John  4  :  35.  The  fields  are  whiten- 
ing to  the  harvest.  Where  are  the  reapers  ? 
As  Mrs.  Browning  said  :  "  Get  work  !  Be 
sure  't  is  better  than  what  you  work  to  get ! " 


681 


At  the  Cross. 


8s,  6s. 


Drawn  to  the  cross,  which  thou  hast  blessed 
With  healing  gifts  for  souls  distressed. 
To  find  in  thee  my  life,  my  rest, 
Christ  Crucified,  I  come. 

2  Thou  knowest  all  my  griefs  and  fears. 
Thy  grace  abused,  my  misspent  years  ; 
Yet  now  to  thee,  with  contrite  tears, 
Christ  Crucified,  I  come. 


3  Wash  me,  and  take  away  each  stain  ; 
Let  nothing  of  my  sin  remain  ; 

For  cleansing,  though  it  be  through  pain, 
Christ  Crucified^  I  come. 

4  And  then  for  work  to  do  for  thee, 
Which  shall  so  sweet  a  service  be 
That  angels  well  might  envy  me, 

Christ  Crucified,  1  come. 

This  poem  is  an  illustration  of  the  doctrine 
of  heredity,  for  the  writer's  father  and  grand- 
father were  both  distinguished  as  hymnolo- 
gists,  and  their  contributions  to  the  songs  of 
the  church  have  been  highly  prized.  Gene- 
vieve Mary  Irons,  daughter  of  Dr.  W.J.  Irons, 
was  born  at  Brompton,  England,  December 
28,  1855.  When  she  was  twenty-one  years 
of  age  several  of  her  poems  were  published 
in  the  Sunday  Magazine.  The  one  quoted 
here  appeared  in  that  periodical  in  1880,  and 
was  afterward  included  in  her  manual  for 
Holy  Communion  entitled  Corpus  Chrisii, 
1884.  In  alluding  to  this  piece  Miss  Irons 
has  said  :  "  I  always  feel  that  that  hymn  is  part 
of  me.  I  am  interested  and  gratified  in  know- 
ing that  it  speaks  to  the  hearts  of  many  who 
would  probably  differ  from  me  on  most  points 
of  doctrine." 

682  "  Atoning  Blood."  P.  M. 

1  HEAR  thy  welcome  voice. 
That  calls  me,  Lord,  to  thee. 

For  cleansing  in  thy  precious  blood, 
That  flowed  on  Calvary. 

Cho. — I  am  coming,  Lord  ! 

Coming  now  to  thee; 
Wash  me,  cleanse  me,  in  the  blood 
That  flowed  on  Calvary ! 

2  Though  coming  weak  and  vile, 
Thou  dost  my  strength  assure ; 

Thou  dost  my  vileness  fully  cleanse. 
Till  spotless  all,  and  pure.— Cho. 

3  'T  is  Jesus  calls  me  on 
To  perfect  faith  and  love, 

To  perfect  hope,  and  peace,  and  trust, 
For  earth  and  heaven  above. — Cho. 

4  And  he  the  witness  gives 
To  loyal  hearts  and  Tree, 

That  every  promise  is  fulfilled 
If  faith  but  brings  the  plea. — Cho. 

5  All  hail !  atoning  blood  ! 
All  hail !  redeeming  grace  ! 

All  hail !  the  gift  of  Christ,  our  Lord, 
Our  Strength  and  Righteousness.— -Cho. 

Rev.  Lewis  Hartsough,  author  of  this 
hymn,  was  born  at  Ithaca,  N.  Y.,  August  31, 
1828,  and  became  a  clergyman  of  the  Meth- 
odist Episcopal  Church.  Very  few  facts  are 
to  be  found  in  connection  with  his  life,  but 
he  is  known  by  several  hymns  contained  in 
Sankey's  Sacred  Songs  and  Solos,  1878,  to 
some  of  which  he  himself  composed  the 
music.  Most  of  these  were  published  long 
before.      The    one  quoted  here  is   entitle<^ 


Sr8 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


"The  Divine  Invitation."      The  author  died 
in  1872. 

Humanitarians  all  need  the  atonement  of 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  to  save  their  souls  just 
the  same  as  other  men  and  women.  When  a 
day  of  real  decision  as  to  character  is  reached 
it  is  quite  possible  that  "  Ben  Adhem's 
name  "  tnay  not  lead  "  all  the  rest."  "  And 
•W&  know  that  the  Son  of  God  is  come,  and 
hath  given  us  an  understanding,  that  we  may 
know  him  that  is  true :  and  we  are  in  him 
that  is  true,  even  in  his  Son  Jesus  Christ. 
This  is  the  true  God,  and  eternal  life." 


69  f 


Saviour  and  Friend. 


5S,  4S. 


Rest  of  the  weary,  joy  of  the  sad ; 
Hope  of  the  drearj',  light  of  the  glad, 
Home  of  the  stranger,  strength  to  the  end  ; 
Refuge  from  danger.  Saviour  and  Friend. 

2  Pillow  where  lying,  love  rests  its  head  ; 
Peace  of  the  dying,  life  of  the  dead  ; 
Path  of  the  lowly,  prize  at  the  end  : 
Breath  of  the  holy.  Saviour  and  Friend. 

3  When  my  feet  stumble,  I  '11  to  thee  cry. 
Crown  of  the  humble,  cross  of  the  high  ; 
When  my  steps  wander,  over  me  bend, 
Truer  and  fonder.  Saviour  and  Friend ! 

4  Ever  confessing  thee,  I  will  raise 
Unto  thee  blessing,  glory,  and  praise; 
All  my  endeavor,  world  without  end, 
Thine  to  be  ever,  Saviour  and  Friend ! 


REV.  DR.  JOHN  S.  B.   MONSELL. 

Among  the  Hymns  of  Love  and  Praise 
published  by  Rev.  John  S.  B.  Monsell,  LL.  D., 
in  1 863,  this  favorite  poem  appeared  with  the 
title,  "  Jesus  the  Saviour  and  Friend."  It 
is  characterized  by  great  tenderness  and 
beauty  of  expression.  In  the  ancient  cathe- 
dral of  Chartres  there  may  be  found  on  the 
fine  window  over  the  south  door  a  succinct 
system  of  theology'  according  to  the  belief 
of  the  thirteenth  century.     The  virgin,  who 


represents  the  church,  or  perhaps  religion, 
occupies  the  central  place.  Then  on  one 
side  we  see  Jeremiah,  having  Luke  seated  on 
his  shoulders.  Opposite  this  we  discover 
Ezekiel  bearing  in  like  manner  John,  and 
Daniel  bearing  Mark.  This  was  the  way 
which  those  ancient  ecclesiastics  had  of 
saying  the  New  Testament  rested  upon  the 
Old.  The  true  method  of  attack,  our  op- 
ponents are  ingenious  enough  to  see,  is  al- 
ways found  in  undermining  one  or  the  other 
of  these  grand  divisions  of  the  Word,  and 
then  suddenly  inferring  that  the  other  is  gone 
with  it.  And  our  true  method  of  reply  is 
found  in  showing  that  each  sustains  the 
other  in  time  of  peril.  Once  let  it  be  settled 
that  Jesus  is  himself  God  manifest  in  the 
flesh,  and  then  everything  he  says  is  settled. 
Whatsoever  the  eternal  Word  speaks  or  does 
is  itself  Word. 

70 1  Christ  Our  Rest.  C.  M.  5I. 

0  Love,  that  wilt  not  let  me  go, 
I  rest  my  weary  sou!  in  thee ; 

1  give  thee  back  the  life  I  owe. 
That  in  thine  ocean  depths  its  flow 

May  richer,  fuller  be. 

2  O  Light,  that  followest  all  my  way, 
I  yield  my  flickering  torch  to  thee; 

My  heart  restores  its  borrowed  ray, 
That  in  thy  sunshine's  blaze  its  day 
May  brighter,  fairer  be. 

3  O  Joy,  that  seekest  me  through  pain, 
I  caimot  close  my  heart  to  thee ; 

I  trace  the  sunshine  through  the  rain, 
And  feel  the  promise  is  not  vain 
That  morn  shall  tearless  be. 

4  O  Cross,  that  liftest  up  my  head, 
I  dare  not  ask  to  fly  from  thee ; 

I  lay  in  dust  life's  glory  dead. 
And  from  the  ground  there  blossoms  red 
Life  that  shall  endless  be. 

Rev.  George  Matheson,  D.  D.,  was  born  at 
Glasgow,  Scotland,  March  27,1842.  Although 
he  became  blind  while  still  a  youth,  he  rose 
above  misfortune,  and  graduated  with  honor 
in  1862  at  the  University  of  Edinburgh.  In 
1 868  he  was  appointed  parish  minister  at  In- 
nellan,  Arg}'leshire,  and  afterwards  at  St. 
Bernard's,  Edinburgh.  Dr.  Matheson  has 
published  several  prose  works,  and  a  volume 
of  poetry.  Of  the  poem  given  here  its  author 
says :  "  It  was  written  in  the  Manse  of  Innellan 
one  summer  evening  in  1882.  It  was  com- 
posed with  extreme  rapidity,  and  I  felt  myself 
rather  in  the  position  of  one  who  was  being 
dictated  to  than  of  an  original  artist.  I  was 
suffering  from  extreme  mental  distress,  and 
the  hymn  was  the  fruit  of  pain."  The  piece 
was  first  published  in  the  Church  of  Scotland 
magazine,  Life  and  Work,  in  1883,  and  has 
since  been  included  in  many  different  collec- 
tions. 


CONFLICT   WITH   SIN, 


519 


7Q2  Longing  for  Peace.  C.  M.  5I. 

Dear  Lord  and  Father  of  mankind, 

Forgive  our  feverish  ways  ! 
Reclothe  us  in  our  rightful  mind  ; 
In  purer  lives  thy  service  find, 

In  deeper  reverence,  praise. 

2  In  simple  trust  like  theirs  who  heard. 
Beside  the  Syrian  sea, 

The  gracious  calling  of  the  Lord, 
Let  us,  like  them,  without  a  word 
Rise  up  and  follow  thee. 

3  Oh,  Sabbath  rest  by  Galilee  ! 
Oh,  calm  of  hills  above. 

Where  Jesus  knelt  to  share  with  thee 
The  silence  of  eternity. 
Interpreted  by  love  ! 

4  Drop  thy  still  dews  of  quietness, 
Till  all  our  strivings  cease: 

Take  from  our  souls  the  strain  and  stress ; 
And  let  our  ordered  lives  confess 
The  beauty  of  thy  peace. 

This  hymn  by  John  Greenleaf  Whittier  is  a 
fragment  taken  from  a  long  poem  entitled 
"  The  Brewing  of  Soma,"  and  was  first  pub- 
lished for  church  use  in  Horder's  Congrega- 
tional Hymns,  1884.  It  bore  the  heading, 
"  Calmness  in  God  desired."  Nothing  is  more 
important  in  the  Christian  life  than  instant, 
cheerful  obedience  to  the  commands  of  God. 
One  day,  after  an  important  battle,  the  head 
of  the  army  was  talking  over  the  events  of  the 
day  with  his  officers.  He  asked  the  question  : 
"  Who  has  done  the  best  to-day  ?"  There 
were  many  answers  concerning  this  and  that 
officer  who  had  fought  bravely.  "  You  are  all 
mistaken,"  was  his  reply.  "  The  best  man  in 
the  field  to-day  was  a  private  soldier,  who  was 
just  lifting  his  arm  to  strike  an  enemy,  but, 
when  he  heard  the  trumpet  sound  a  retreat, 
checked  himself  and  dropped  his  arm  without 
striking  the  blow.  That  perfect  and  willing 
obedience  to  the  will  of  his  general  is  the 
noblest  thing  that  has  been  done  to-day." 

704  "  All  ts  JVell."  P.M. 

1  HEAR  a  sweet  voice  ringing  clear. 

All  is  well ! 
It  is  my  Father's  voice  I  hear ; 

AH  is  well ! 
Where'er  I  walk  that  voice  is  heard  : 
It  is  my  God,  my  Father's  word, 
"  Fear  not,  but  trust :  I  am  the  Lord  :" 

AH  is  well ! 

2  Clouds  cannot  long  obscure  my  sight ; 

All  is  well! 
I  know  there  is  a  land  of  light ; 

All  is  well ! 
From  strength  to  strength,  from  day  to  day, 
I  tread  along  the  world's  highway; 
Or  often  stop  to  sing  or  say. 

All  is  well ! 

3  In  morning  hours,  serene  and  bright, 

All  is  well ! 
In  evening  hours  or  darkening  night 

All  is  well ! 
And  when  to  Jordan's  side  I  come, 
'Midst  chilling  waves  and  raging  foam. 
Oh,  let  me  sing  as  I  go  home. 

All  is  well  r 


Rev.  Edwin  Paxton  Hood  was  born  in 
London,  England,  October  24,  1820,  and  owed 
his  education  entirely  to  his  own  efforts.  He 
became  in  1852  the  Independent  Minister  at 
Nibley,  in  Gloucestershire,  and  remained  there 
until  his  removal  to  London  in  1857.  He 
held  several  pastorates,  and  was  always  es- 
pecially active  and  interested  in  Sunday- 
school  work.  He  died  in  Paris,  June  12,  1885. 
Mr.  Hood  was  a  writer  and  lecturer  on 
various  subjects,  historical,  theological,  and 
artistic.  Many  of  his  hymns  are  in  general 
use,  especially  those  designed  for  children ; 
these  are  full  of  freshness  and  simplicity. 
The  one  quoted  here  was  written  in  1862,  and 
published  in  his  Children  s  Choir,  1870.  The 
sentiment  it  suggests  is  nothing  more  nor 
less  than  perfect  trust  in  our  "  Father's 
Word."  Some  proud  people  there  are  who 
declare  that  there  is  nothing  in  the  Bible  to 
entitle  it  to  absolute  human  confidence.  "  How 
is  it  that  thou  hast  found  it  so  quickly,  my 
son  ?"  Well,  if  you  are  tired  of  the  New 
Testament,  will  you  read  a  bit  of  Pilgrim's 
Progress,  which  we  sometimes  think  stands 
next  to  it  1  There  was  a  shepherd-boy,  who 
was  overheard  singing  in  a  gentle  voice  by 
himself;  Great-heart  called  attention  to  his 
song : 

"  He  that  is  down  needs  fear  no  fall ;  he  that  is  low,  no 

pride; 
He  that  is  humble  ever  shall  have  God  to  be  his  guide." 

It  was  this  lad  who  liv^ed  the  merriest  life, 
and  had  most  of  the  herb  called  heart's-ease 
in  his  bosom.  He  dwelt  in  the  Valley  of 
Humiliation. 

707  Our  Frail  Body.  C.  M. 

Oh,  mean  may  seem  this  house  ot  clay, 

Yet  't  was  the  Lord's  abode ; 
Our  feet  may  mourn  this  thorny  way, 

Yet  here  Immanuel  trod. 

2  This  fleshly  robe  the  Lord  did  wear ; 
This  watch  the  Lord  did  keep; 

These  burdens  sore  the  Lord  did  bear ; 
These  tears  the  Lord  did  weep, 

3  This  world  the  Master  overcame ; 
This  deat.h  the  Lord  did  die ; 

Oh,  vanquished  world  !  oh,  glorious  shame! 
Oh,  hallowed  agony ! 

4  Oh,  vale  of  tears,  no  longer  sad. 
Wherein  the  Lord  did  dwell ! 

Oh,  holy  robe  of  flesh  that  clad 
Our  own  Immanuel ! 

5  Our  very  frailty  brings  us  near 
Unto  the  Lord  of  heaven  ; 

To  every  grief,  to  every  tear. 
Such  glory  strange  is  given. 

Another  of  the  fresh  hymns  of  Thomas 
Hornblower  Gill.  It  was  composed  in  1850, 
and  first  published  in  Dawson's  Psalms  and 
Hymns,  1853.     The  author  has  said  of  this 


520 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


that  it  had  had  "  by  far  the  widest  acceptance 
of  all  my  hymns.  It  was  put  into  my  mouth 
as  the  truth  of  the  Incarnation  was  revealed 
to  me.  Its  production  was  a  great  spiritual 
event  in  my  own  life,  as  well  as  an  exquisite 
and  unspeakable  delight.  It  wrought  power- 
fully upon  my  outward  life,  and  introduced 
me  to  persons  my  connection  with  whom  led 
to  a  change  of  residence  and  furthered  the 
publication  of  my  work, '  The  Papal  Drama.'  " 

708  Ca«/.  1:7-  P-  M. 

Tell  me,  my  Saviour ! 
Where  thou  dost  feed  thy  flock, 
Resting  beside  the  rock, 

Cool  in  the  shade : 
Why  should  I  be  as  one 
Turning  aside  alone, 
Left,  when  thy  sheep  have  gone, 

Where  I  have  strayed? 

2  Seek  me,  my  Saviour ! 
For  I  have  lost  the  way ; 
I  will  thy  voice  obey  ; 

Speak  to  me  here ! 
Help  me  to  find  the  gate 
Where  all  thy  chosen  wait : 
Ere  it  shall  be  too  late. 

Oh,  call  me  near ! 

3  Show  me,  my  Saviour, 
How  I  can  grow  like  thee; 
Make  me  thy  child  to  be. 

Taught  from  above : 
Help  me  thy  smile  to  win  : 
Keep  me  safe  folded  in. 
Lest  I  should  rove  in  sin, 

Far  from  thy  love. 

This  paraphrase  of  Song  of  Solomon  i  :  7, 
composed  by  Rev.  Charles  Seymour  Robin- 
son, D.  D.,  was  first  published  in  his  Laudes 
Domini  for  the  Sunday- School,  1888.  "Tell 
me,  O  thou  whom  my  soul  loveth,  where  thou 
feedest,  where  thou  makest  thy  flock  to  rest 
at  noon :  for  why  should  I  be  as  one  that 
turneth  aside  by  the  flocks  of  thy  compan- 
ions ?  " 


709  "  Cleansethfrom  all  Sin."  _ 

I  AM  coming  to  the  cross ; 
1  am  poor  and  weak  and  blind, 

1  am  counting  all  but  dross  ; 

I  shall  full  salvation  find. 

Ref. — I  am  trusting,  Lord,  in  thee, 
Dear  Lamb  of  Calvary ; 
Humbly  at  thy  cross  I  bow  ; 
Save  me,  Jesus,  save  me  now. 

2  Long  my  heart  has  sighed  for  thee ; 
Long  has  evil  dwelt  within  : 

Jesus  sweetly  speaks  to  me, 

I  will  cleanse  you  from  all  sin. — Ref. 

3  Here  I  give  my  all  to  thee, 
Friends  and  time  and  earthly  store ; 

Soul  and  body  thine  to  be — 
Wholly  thine  for  ever  more. — Ref. 

4  In  the  promises  I  trust  ; 
Now  I  feel  the  blood  applied  ; 

I  am  prostrate  in  the  dust 
I  with  Christ  am  crucified.— Ref, 


78. 


It  is  always  very  difficult  to  find  out  the 
data  (which  might  better  be  called  the  de- 
sirabilia)  of  authors  who  have  contributed 
altogether  to  what  is  denominated  the  "  Gos- 
pel "  literature  of  the  present  day.  Rev. 
William  McDonald,  the  author  of  this  very 
popular  hymn,  was  a  minister  of  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church.  He  was  an  American, 
born  in  1820,  and  his  composition  bears  date 
1858.  The  first  notice  we  have  of  it  is  in  the 
Baptist  Praise  Book,  1871.  It  was  doubtless 
issued  before  in  some  Sunday-School  collec- 
tion.    Its  sentiment  is  good. 

The  story  is  told  of  Martin  Luther,  whose 
hours  of  guilt  and  conviction  were  so  filled 
with  wild  and  fearful  dreams,  that  once  the 
evil  one,  Satan,  appeared  to  enter  his  room, 
and  with  an  air  of  insolent  triumph  dis- 
played a  vast  roll  of  parchment,  which  he 
carried  in  his  arms.  Luther  asked  him  what 
that  was,  and  received  the  alarming  reply : 
"  It  is  a  catalogue  of  all  your  former  sins  !  " 
He  leaped  from  his  bed  in  an  impulse  of  mor- 
tal agony  and  terror.  With  a  hollow  burst 
of  derisive  laughter  the  fiend  threw  it  on  the 
floor,  still  holding  one  end  in  his  hand  so  that 
it  might  easily  unroll  its  awful  length.  There 
the  frightened  man  was  compelled  to  read, 
hour  after  hour,  the  terrible  list  of  all  the 
wicked  deeds  he  had  done  in  all  his  life. 
There  were  the  offences  and  follies  of  his 
youth.  There  were  the  transgressions  of  his 
riper  years.  He  groaned  in  the  bitterness  of 
his  soul,  as  he  discovered,  every  now  and 
then,  some  miserable  little  vileness,  or  some 
daring  act  of  impiety,  which  he  had  almost 
forgotten,  but  here  instantly  recognized ; 
some  unseen,  undisclosed,  secret  transgres- 
sion he  had  vainly  imagined  no  one  had 
detected,  or  even  conceived  he  could  commit. 
There  they  all  were  ;  and,  oh,  how  black  the 
ink  seemed,  and  how  imperishable  the  parch- 
ment seemed,  and  how  long  the  great  roll 
seemed,  and  how  tightly  the  overjoyed  devil 
in  his  fiery  glee  held  it  clenched  in  his  fingers  ! 
There  the  sins  were ;  just  as  he  knew  now 
some  pen  of  a  recording  angel  had  noted  them 
down ;  just  as  he  knew,  beyond  a  doubt 
now,  that  God  would  one  time  set  them  be- 
fore him  in  array  under  the  light  of  his  coun- 
tenance. And  his  heart  failed  him  as  he 
gazed.  He  bent  his  head  hopelessly  in  sor- 
row and  shame,  with  a  fearful  foreboding  of 
the  wrath  to  come. 

Suddenly  the  devil  called  him  by  name,  and 
pointed  to  some  words  along  the  top  of  the 
roll,  just  where  his  hand  held  it.  Luther 
looked  up  and  read  aloud  :  "  All  sin  ;"  and 
then  he  understood  that  no  one  of  the  many 


COURAGE  AND   CHEER. 


521 


acts,  or  even  thoughts,  was  to  be  left  out. 
His  form  began  to  shiver,  and  he  says  he  was 
seized  with  a  violent  fit  of  trembling.  Hell 
appeared  opening  at  once  under  his  feet.  His 
agony  was  intense.  He  could  not  bear  to 
look  at  the  roll.  But  Satan  kept  screaming, 
"  All  sin !  all  sin  !"  And  at  last,  in  order  to 
aflflict  him  the  more,  exclaimed  :  "  So  says 
God,  so  says  God — all  sin,  all  sin !"  Now 
the  man's  study  of  Scripture  stood  him  in  ex- 
cellent stead.  For  he  looked  up  defiantly, 
saying  :  "  Where  speaks  God  that  word  .-*" 
And  he  sprang  from  his  couch,  a  new  thought 
in  his  mind.  "  In  what  chapter  and  what 
verse .''  Where  says  God  that  ?"  he  thundered, 
with  clear  voice,  like  a  trumpet  of  challenge. 
"  There,  there  !"  answered  the  devil,  pointing 
again  to  the  parchment,  and  putting  his  fiery 
finger  on  the  two  words,  "  all  sin,  all  sin." 
The  reformer,  brave  for  a  moment  with  a 
blessed  thought  in  his  heart,  snatched  the 
awful  list  away  from  his  enemy,  and,  unroll- 
ing it  one  turn  more  in  the  other  direction, 
discovered,  as  he  hoped  he  would,  the  remain- 
der of  the  inscription.  There  it  explained 
itself ;  to  be  sure,  Satan  had  quoted  correctly, 
for  he  read,  "  all  sin,  all  sin."  But  right  above 
these  were  the  other  words,  as  in  the  Bible  : 
"  The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  his  Son,  cleanseth 
us  from  all  sin  !"  So  he  learned  that  all  that 
his  sins  had  been  massed  together  upon  that 
roll  for  was  in  order  to  announce  that  atone- 
ment had  been  made  completely  to  cover 
them.  And  with  a  glad  cry  of  exultant  joy 
he  awoke,  while  the  devil  disappeared  with 
all  his  parchment  of  sorrow  and  woe. 


719  Day  is  Breaking.  8s,  7s.  D. 

Christians,  up !  the  day  is  breaking, 

Gird  your  ready  armor  on  ; 
Slumbering  hosts  around  are  waking, 

Rouse  ye !  in  the  Lord  be  strong ! 
While  ye  sleep  or  idly  linger. 

Thousands  sink,  with  none  to  save  ; 
Hasten  !  Time's  unerring  finger 

Points  to  many  an  open  grave. 

2  Hark  !  unnumbered  voices  crying, 
"  Save  us,  or  we  droop  and  die  ! 

Succor  bear  the  faint  and  dying, 

On  the  wings  of  mercy  fly  : 
Lead  them  to  the  crystal  fountain 

Gushing  with  the  streams  of  life  ; 
Guide  them  to  the  sheltering  mountain, 

For  the  gale  with  death  is  rife.  73  | 

3  See  the  blest  millennial  dawing! 
Bright  the  beams  of  Bethlehem's  star  : 

Eastern  lands,  behold  the  morning ; 

Lo !  it  glimmers  from  afar  : 
O'er  the  mountain-top  ascending. 

Soon  the  scattered  light  shall  rise, 
Till,  in  radiant  glory  blending, 

Heaven's  high  noon  shall  greet  our  eyes. 

This  hymn  was  composed  by  Rev.  Elbert 
Stothoff  Porter,  D.  D.,  of  the  Reformed 
Dutch  Church  in  America.    It  is  said  to  have 


been  written  for  Hyvtns  of  the  Church,  1869. 
The  author  was  born  in  Hillsboro,  Somerset 
County,  N.  J.,  October  23,  1820.  He  gradu- 
ated at  Princeton  College,  1839,  and  for 
a  while  contemplated  becoming  a  lawyer,  but 
at  last  decided  upon  the  ministry,  and  took  a 
course  in  the  Theological  Seminary  at  New 
Brunswick,  N.  J.  He  was  ordained  to  his 
first  charge  as  the  pastor  of  a  Reformed 
(Dutch)  Church  in  Chatham  Four  Corners, 
N.  Y.,  October  27,  1842.  The  congregation 
being  scarcely  organized,  and  meeting  in  a 
schoolhouse,  his  official  name  was  that  of  an 
evangelist.  But  his  success  was  excellent, 
and  the  church  was,  January  22,  1843,  fully 
constituted,  and  he  was  installed  October  17 
of  the  same  year.  There  he  remained  until 
early  in  1850,  when  he  was  called  to  Williams- 
burgh,  L.  I.,  now  Brooklyn,  E.  D.,  and  began 
his  long  service  in  the  Bedford  Avenue  Re- 
formed (Dutch)  Church,  where  he  spent 
thirty-four  useful  years.  He  retired  in  1883, 
and  died  February  26,  1888,  at  Claverack, 
N.  Y. 

Dr.  Porter  was  for  a  long  time  one  of  the 
editors  of  the  Christian  Intelligencer.  It 
was  the  denominational  organ  of  his  church. 
He  made  it  a  force.  Says  his  biographer : 
"  No  wonder  he  was  a  leader.  He  deserved 
to  be,  for  he  led,  taking  always  the  burden 
upon  his  own  shoulders  and  going  before. 
He  had  a  reserve  of  will-power,  a  masterful 
captaincy  of  command  ;  but  usually  his  sway 
was  that  of  persuasion  and  negotiation." 
Herein  is  a  lesson  to  be  learned  by  all  of  us. 
Let  a  free,  open-hearted  Christian  go  through 
any  church,  he  will  gather  twice  what  others 
will ;  not  that  he  begs  harder,  not  that  he 
cringes  more  ;  but  he  is  a  manly  follower  of 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  world  knows 
it.  He  leads ;  and  men  will  follow  one  who 
leads  worthily.  Julius  Csesar  was  once 
asked  how  it  came  that  his  soldiers  kept  up 
so  close  in  the  charges  of  hand-to-hand  con- 
flict. He  answered :  "  I  never  say,  Ite  illuc  ; 
but  Venite  hue."  He  never  ordered  them — 
go  there — he  beckoned  them — come  here — for 
himself  was  ahead. 


Steadiness.  5s,  8s,  5s. 

Jesus,  who  can  be 

Once  compared  with  thee ! 
Source  of  rest  and  consolation. 
Life,  and  light,  and  full  salvation  : 

Son  of  God,  with  thee 

None  compared  can  be  ! 

2  Thou  hast  died  for  me, 

From  all  misery 
And  distress  me  to  deliver. 
And  from  death  to  save  for  ever : 

I  am  by  thv  blood 

Reconciled  to  God. 


522 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


3  Grant  me  steadiness, 
Lord,  to  run  my  race, 

Following  thee  with  love  most  tender, 
So  that  Satan  may  not  hinder 

Me  by  craft  or  force : 

Further  thou  my  course. 

4  When  I  hence  depart. 
Strengthen  thou  my  heart ; 

Where  thou  art,  O  Lord,  convey  me  ; 
In  thy  righteousness  array  me; 

That  at  thy  right  hand 

Joyful  I  may  stand. 

Rev.  John  Gambold,  M.  A.,  was  born  at 
Puncheston,  Pembrokeshire,  England,  April 
lo,  1711,  and  educated  al  Oxford,  graduating 
in  1730.  He  took  Holy  Orders  and  in  1739 
became  Vicar  of  Stanton  Harcourt,  Oxford- 
shire ;  but  three  years  later  he  decided  to 
join  the  Moravians.  In  1754  he  was  chosen 
one  of  their  bishops.  His  death  occurred  at 
Haverford  West,  September  13,  1771.  A 
number  of  translations  by  him  were  published 
in  the  Moravian  Hymn  Book,  1754,  among 
them  this  one  from  a  favorite  poem  by 
Johann  Anastasius  Freylinghausen,  a  cele- 
brated German  divine  who  was  born  in 
Brunswick,  December  2,  1670,  and  educated 
at  the  University  of  Jena,  and  settled  over 
churches  in  Glaucha  and  Halle.  He  died  in 
the  latter  town,  February  12,  1739,  after  a 
long  illness.  He  wrote  more  than  forty 
hymns,  which  rank  very  high  for  their 
warmth  of  feeling  and  depth  of  Christian 
experience.  They  are  still  in  general  use  in 
Germany. 


752 


Exod.  40 :  36-38. 


C.  M.  D. 


Long  as  the  darkening  cloud  abode. 

So  long  did  Israel  rest : 
Nor  moved  they  till  the  guiding  Lord 

In  briglitness  stood  confessed: 
Father  of  spirits  !  Light  of  life ! 

Now  lift  the  cloudy  vail ! 
Shine  forth  in  fire  amid  that  night 

Whose  blackness  makes  us  quail ! 

2  'T  is  done  !    To  Christ  the  power  given  ; 
He  rends  the  vail  away ; 

O'er  earth  a  splendor  pours  from  heaven 
That  makes  our  darkness — day! 

Rise  then  and  follow,  all  the  host, 
His  glory  who  precedes ; 

This  true  Shechinah,  which  we  boast, 
To  the  true  Canaan  leads. 

3  The  city  there  is  jasper-built, 
The  sea,  a  golden  fire, 

And  underneath  the  emerald  bow 

Sings  an  immortal  choir! 
Oh,  thither  lead  us.  Lord  of  light ' 

Through  all  this  wilderness ; 
Till  in  the  glory  of  that  sight 

We  perfect  are  in  bliss  ! 

Rev.  George  Richards  was  born  near  New- 
port, R.  I.,  about  the  year  1755.  During  the 
Revolution  he  was  a  purser  and  chaplain  in 
the  United  States  Navy,  and  after  its  close 
he  taught  a  school  in  Boston.     He  then  be- 


came a  Universalist  preacher,  and  was  pastor 

of  a  church  in  Portsmouth,  N.  H.,  from 
1793  to  1809.  He  removed  from  this  charge 
to  one  in  Philadelphia,  where  he  died  in 
March,  18 14.  Mr.  Richards  was  the  author 
of  a  number  of  hymns,  and  with  S.  Lane 
edited  a  Universalist  Collection  which  was 
printed  in  Boston  in  1 792.  Subsequent  books 
contained  other  contributions  by  him,  but 
only  the  one  given  here  is  widely  known.  In 
its  present  form  nearly  one  half  of  it  is  by  an 
anonymous  writer. 

753  Rom.  8:31.  CM. 

God's  glory  is  a  wondrous  thing. 

Most  strange  in  all  its  ways, 
And,  of  all  things  on  earth,  least  like 

What  men  agree  to  praise. 

2  Oh,  blest  is  he  to  whom  is  given 
The  instinct  that  can  tell 

That  God  is  on  the  field,  when  he 
Is  most  invisible ! 

3  And  blest  is  he  who  can  divine 
Where  real  right  doth  lie, 

And  dares  to  take  the  side  that  seems 
Wrong  to  man's  blindfold  eye ! 

4  Oh,  learn  to  scorn  the  praise  of  men  ! 
Oh,  learn  to  lose  with  God  ! 

For  Jesus  won  the  world  through  shame. 
And  beckons  thee  his  road. 

5  And  right  is  right,  since  God  is  God  ; 
And  right  the  day  must  win  ; 

To  doubt  would  be  disloyalty, 
To  falter  would  be  sin  ! 

The  hymn  from  which  this  is  a  cento  was 
written  by  Dr.  Frederick  W.  Faber,  and  ap- 
peared in  his  Jesus  and  Mary,  1849.  It  had 
nineteen  stanzas,  and  was  entitled,  "  The 
Right  Must  Win."  The  first  line  was,  "  Oh, 
it  is  hard  to  work  for  God !"  Sometimes 
accomplishment  of  desperate  enterprise  is 
reached  by  what  seems  sheer  force  of  un- 
conquerable will.  Now  and  then,  on  the 
high  places  of  human  renown,  may  be  seen 
the  form  of  some  simple-minded  hero,  alto- 
gether unconscious  of  the  show  he  makes, 
and  most  likely  unaware  that  he  will  ever  be 
considered  the  center  of  his  age  or  the  fine 
figure  of  the  era. 

Out  on  the  prow  of  his  vessel,  looking  for 
land,  while  his  crew  mutinies  behind  him,  see 
the  face  of  Christopher  Columbus,  searching 
for  a  new  world  !  Deep  in  the  forest  at  Val- 
ley Forge,  kneeling  for  prayer,  see  George 
Washington,  the  flicker  of  the  faint  camp-fire 
on  his  features,  while  the  snow  lies  around 
him  red  with  the  blood  of  his  shoeless  sol- 
diers !  Then  later  in  the  annals  of  this  Repub- 
lic, see  Abraham  Lincoln,  the  morning  after 
our  worst  defeat  set  the  wires  in  a  quiver 
and  flung  the  land  into  awful  mourning  again  ; 
listen  to  the  quiet  words,  so  quaintly  and 
queerly  characteristic — "  W^ell,  it  sets  us  back 


COURAGE  AND   CHEER. 


523 


a  good  deal,  but  we  shall  do  better  by  and  by  ; 
we  must  keep  pegging  away  !"  Under  V'alens, 
the  Roman  emperor,  lived  Basil  the  bishop  of 
Cccsarea.  The  emperor,  with  his  prefect,  vis- 
ited the  bishop,  and  vainly  tried  to  persuade 
him  to  abandon  his  faith.  Perceiving  that 
he  availed  nothing,  the  prefect,  losing  pa- 
tience, resorted  to  other  measures.  "  Are  you 
not  afraid  to  oppose  me  .'"  he  asked.  "  Why 
should  I  fear.?"  replied  Basil;  "what  will 
happen  .''"  The  prefect,  swelling  with  rage, 
gasped  out  convulsively  :  "  Confiscation,  ban- 
ishment, torture,  death  !"  "  Have  you  noth- 
ing else  }"  asked  the  undaunted  bishop, "  for 
nothing  you  have  spoken  has  any  effect  on 
me.  He  that  has  nothing  to  lose  is  not  afraid 
of  confiscation.  Save  these  threadbare,  tat- 
tered garments,  and  a  few  books,  I  have  noth- 
ing you  can  take.  As  to  banishment,  you 
cannot  banish  me,  for  the  earth  is  the  Lord's 
and  the  fullness  thereof.  And  as  to  torture, 
the  first  stroke  would  kill  me,  and  to  kill  me 
is  to  send  me  to  glory."  It  is  not  manly,  it 
is  not  womanly,  to  give  up  duty  and  forsake 
a  covenant.  There  was  one  sentence,  spoken 
by  Johnson,  which  Boswell  declared  he  could 
never  read  without  emotion.  "  I  think,"  said 
the  great  moralist  in  one  of  the  numbers  of 
the  Rambler,  "  that  there  is  some  reason  for 
questioning  whether  the  body  and  mind  are 
not  so  proportioned  to  each  other,  that  the 
one  can  bear  all  which  can  be  inflicted  on  the 
other  ;  whether  virtue  cannot  stand  its  ground 
as  long  as  life ;  and  whether  a  soul,  well- 
principled,  will  not  sooner  be  separated  than 
subdued."  That  rugged  old  philosopher  was 
not  willing  to  give  up  that  a  man's  courage 
w-as  firmer  than  his  affection  ;  he  did  not  be- 
lieve that  a  hero  could  be  burned  without 
flinching,  and  yet  could  not  stand  temptation 
without  sin. 

754  Unwavering  Trust.  CM. 

Father  of  love,  our  Guide  and  Friend, 

Oh,  lead  us  gently  on, 
Until  life's  trial-time  shall  end, 

And  heavenly  peace  be  won. 

2  We  know  not  what  the  path  may  be 
As  yet  by  us  untrod; 

But  we  can  trust  our  all  to  thee, 
Our  Father  and  our  God. 

3  But  if  some  darker  lot  be  good, 
•  Oh,  teach  us  to  endure 

The  sorrow,  pain,  or  solitude, 
That  make  the  spirit  pure. 

4  Christ  by  jio  flowery  pathway  came, 
And  we,  his  followers  here, 

Must  do  thy  will  and  praise  thy  name, 
In  hope,  and  love,  and  fear. 

5  And,  till  in  heaven  we  sinless  bow, 
And  faultless  anthems  raise, 

O  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  now 
Accept  our  feeble  praise. 


From  the  manuscript  of  the  author,  Dr. 
William  Josiah  Irons,  we  learn  that  this  poem 
was  "  written  for  a  large  Confirmation  at 
Brompton,  in  1844,  and  was  published  in 
Lowe's  Hyjiins  for  the  Christian  Seasons, 
1854."  That  moment  in  which  a  young  per- 
son takes  a  public  stand  for  Christ  before  the 
world  is  full  of  promise  as  well  as  of  attract- 
iveness. What  will  he  be  twenty-years  from 
this }  The  hope  for  all  his  future  career 
rests  simply  in  his  union  with  Jesus  Christ, 
and  that  turns  upon  his  intensity  of  regard 
for  the  Divine  One  who  is  his  Master  and 
Model.  If  his  heart  is  with  Immanuel's 
heart,  that  fact  will  mould  his  character, 
fashion  his  life,  and  fix  his  destiny.  Such  a 
Christian  is  sure  to  grow  lovely  by  just  lov- 
ing— by  just  going  on  in  love  for  Christ.  It  has 
been  fabled  from  old  times  that  th\e  graceful 
swan  was  changed  from  a  most  ugly  bird 
into  its  present  beauty  merely  because  of  its 
constancy  to  its  mate.  But  oh,  how  Chris- 
tian fact  is  sure  to  outrun  even  classic  fable  ! 
The  soul  grows  wondrously  lovely  which  pours 
out  thus  its  faithful  affection.  It  beholds 
Jesus'  face,  as  in  a  glass,  and  is  changed  into 
the  same  image,  from  glory  to  glory,  even  as 
by  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord. 

755  Isa.  35  :  8-10.  C.  M. 

Sing,  all  5'e  ransomed  of  the  Lord, 

Your  great  Deliverer  sing  : 
Ye  pilgrims,  now  for  Zion  bound. 

Be  joyful  in  your  King. 

2  His  hand  divine  shall  lead  you  on 
Through  all  the  blissful  road, 

Till  to  the  sacred  mount  you  rise. 
And  see  your  gracious  God. 

3  Bright  garlands  of  immortal  joy 
Shall  bloom  on  every  head  ; 

While  sorrow,  sighing,  and  distress, 
Like  shadows,  all  are  fled. 

4  March  on  in   your  Redeemer's  strength: 
Pursue  his  footsteps  still ; 

And  let  the  prospect  cheer  your  eye 
While  laboring  up  the  hill. 

This  is  taken  from  Dr.  Philip  Doddridge's 
Hy7nns founded  ott  Various  Texts  in  the  Holy 
Scriptures,  i"]^^.  It  is  entitled  "Joy  on  the 
Homeward  Way,"  and  the  first  line  reads, 
"  Sing,  ye  redeemed  of  the  Lord."  The  al- 
lusion seems  to  be  to  Isaiah  35  :  10:  "  And 
the  ransomed  of  the  Lord  shall  return,  and 
come  to  Zion  with  songs  and  everlasting  joy 
upon  their  heads :  they  shall  obtain  joy  and 
gladness,  and  sorrow  and  sighing  shall  flee 
away."  The  passage,  of  course,  referred  to 
the  journeying  back  of  the  Israelites  from 
their  captivity  in  Babylon  to  the  ancient 
home    of  their  fathers   in    Jerusalem.     The 


524 


CHRISTIAN   EXPERIENCE. 


moment  is  chosen  in  which  the  long  train 
reaches  the  ridge  behind  the  slope  of  Mount 
Olivet,  and  the  exiles  catch  the  first  glimpse 
of  the  pathetic  old  town.  They  are  repre- 
sented as  bursting  forth  into  the  songs  they 
could  not  sing  "  in  a  strange  land."  By  an 
easy  rhetorical  accommodation  the  figure  is 
often  applied  to  the  people  of  God  drawing 
nigh  the  end  of  their  earthly  journey,  and 
beholding  the  heavenly  Zion,  and  opening 
their  lips  for  a  psalm  loftier  and  sweeter  than 
ever  before. 

76 1  "  To  Live  is  Christ."  S.  M. 

For  me  to  live  is  Christ, 

To  die  is  endless  gain  ; 
For  him  I  gladly  bear  the  cross, 

And  welcome  grief  and  pain. 

2  A  pilgrimage  my  lot, 
My  home  is  in  the  skies ; 

I  nightly  pitch  my  tent  below. 
And  daily  higher  rise. 

3  I  fare  with  Christ  my  Lord  ; 
His  path  the  path  I  choose; 

They  joy  who  suffer  most  with  him — 
They  win  who  with  him  lose. 

4  The  dawn  on  distant  hills 
Shines  o'er  the  vales  below  ; 

The  shadow^s  of  this  world  are  lost 
In  light  to  which  I  go. 

5  My  journey  soon  will  end. 
My  scrip  and  staff  laid  down: 

Oh,  tempt  me  not  with  earthly  toys — 
I  go  to  wear  a  crown. 

Many  years  ago  this  little  hymn  of  three 
stanzas  was  discovered  floating  around  in  the 
newspapers.  We  picked  it  up  because  it 
seemed  to  voice  the  words  of  the  apostle : 
"  For  me  to  live  is  Christ,  and  to  die  is  gain," 
Philippians  1:21.  Mere  mechanical  necessi- 
ties in  the  music  upon  the  page  required  two 
stanzas  more  in  length ;  and  we  supplied  the 
third  and  fourth ;  and  there  now  is  the  un- 
claimed piece  going  the  rounds  still. 


762 


The  Panoply  of  God. 


S.  M. 


Soldiers  of  Christ,  arise, 

And  put  your  armor  on. 
Strong  in  the  strength  which  God  supplies 

Through  his  eternal  Son. 

2  Strong  in  the  Lord  of  hosts. 
And  in  his  mighty  power. 

Who  in  the  strength  of  Jesus  trusts 
Is  more  than  conqueror. 

3  Stand,  then,  in  his  great  might. 
With  all  his  strength  endued. 

And  take,  to  arm  you  for  the  fight, 
The  panoply  of  God — 

4  That,  having  all  things  done, 
And  all  your  conflicts  past. 

Ye  may  o'erconie  through  Christ  alone, 
And  stand  entire  at  last. 

This  was  one  of  the  Rev.  Charles  Wesley's 
"  Hymns  for  Believers,"  and  was  published  in 


his  Hymns  and  Sacred Peems,  174.9.  It  con- 
tained sixteen  stanzas  of  eight  lines  each,  and 
twelve  of  these  have  been  divided  into  three 
hymns  of  length  suitable  for  congregational 
use.  The  original  text  has  been  much  altered, 
and  in  some  cases  weakened  ;  but  the  various 
centos  are  in  general  use  on  both  sides  of  the 
sea.     The  reference  is  to  Ephesians  6:11. 

It  is  to  be  feared  that  too  much  stress  is 
laid  upon  the  emotional  and  experimental  part 
of  piety  in  this  easy  day  of  ours.  Too  many 
young  princes  go  off  into  dangerous  Zulu- 
land  for  curious  inquiry^  or  mere  love  of  ad- 
venture. There  was  (so  we  are  told)  once  an 
English  poet  who  took  position  in  a  lofty 
tower  that  he  might  see  a  real  battle.  He 
seems  to  have  had  great  prosperity,  for  the 
world  has  not  yet  done  praising  his  versified 
description  of  the  rushing  onset,  the  tumult, 
and  the  carnage,  "  by  Iser  rolling  rapidly." 
Now  nobody  need  hope  to  become  acquaint- 
ed with  the  solemn  realities  of  life  by  merely 
gazing  out  upon  it  from  a  protected  belfry,  as 
Campbell  did  on  Hohenlinden  field.  We  can- 
not make  a  poem  out  of  it.  There  are  awful 
certainties  of  exposu'-e,  and  necessities  of  at- 
tack, which  disdain  figures  and  rhythms  of 
mere  music.  And,  moreover,  we  are  combat- 
ants, not  spectators  ;  we  are  in  the  onset,  and 
the  shock  is  at  hand.  "  There  is  no  discharge 
in  that  war." 

768  Prayer  for  Help.  6s,  4s. 

Saviour  and  Lord  of  all, 

Turn  ever>-  heart  to  thee; 
Guard  us  and  guide  us  safe 

Over  Life's  sea. 

2  When  we  are  full  of  grief, 
Victims  of  anxious  fear, 

Give  thou  our  hearts  relief, 
Jesus,  be  near. 

3  Brighten  our  darkest  hour. 
Till  the  last  hour  shall  come; 

Then,  in  thy  love  and  power. 
Oh,  take  us  home! 

This  "  Hymn  to  the  Saviour  "  is  taken  from 
the  Memoirs  of  Rev.  Thomas  Rawson  Tay- 
lor, published  in  1836.  It  appeared  also  in 
1853  in  the  Leeds  Hymn-Book,  altered  to 
"  Jesu,  Immanuel." 

769  "  In  Perils  Oft." 

Oft  in  danger,  oft  in  woe, 
Onward,  Christians,  onward  go  : 
Fight  the  fight,  maintain  the  strife. 
Strengthened  with  the  bread  of  life. 

2  Onward,  Christians,  onward  go. 
Join  the  war  and  face  the  foe : 
Will  ye  flee  in  danger's  hour? 
Know  ye  not  your  Captain's  p)ower? 

3  Let  your  drooping  hearts  be  glad : 
March  in  heavenly  armor  clad  : 
Fight,  nor  think  the  battle  long; 
Victory  soon  shall  tune  your  song. 


7S. 


COURAGE  AND   CHEER. 


525 


4  Let  not  sorrow  dim  your  eye, 
Soon  shall  every  tear  be  dry ; 

Let  not  fears  your  course  impede, 
Great  your  strength,  if  great  your  need. 

5  Onward  then  in  battle  move, 
More  than  conquerors  ye  shall  prove ; 
Though  opposed  by  many  a  foe, 
Christian  soldiers,  onward  go. 

This  poem,  as  we  have  it  at  present,  is  the 
result  of  various  changes.  It  was  written 
originally  by  Henry  Kirke  White  upon  the 
back  of  a  mathematical  paper,  and  came  into 
the  hands  of  the  compiler  of  Collyer's  Hymns, 
Partly  Collected  and  Partly  Original,  181 2, 
as  a  fragment  which  had  to  be  completed  in 
order  to  fit  it  for  use.  Mrs.  Fuller-Maitland 
in  1827  compiled  Hymns  for  Private  Devo- 
tion, and  in  this  an  enlarged  form  of  the 
poem  was  made  by  her  daughter  Frances, 
then  only  fourteen  years  old.  In  Bickersteth's 
Christian  Psalmody,  1833,  this  text  is  given 
with  some  alterations,  and  still  another  ver- 
sion is  to  be  found  in  Hall's  Miter  Hymn- 
Book,  1836.  These  four  sources  have  pro- 
duced the  poem  as  it  is  to-day.  It  is  a  war- 
like hymn,  and  yet  it  is  familiarly  Scriptural : 
Ephesians  6  :  10-18.  Concerning  this  spiritual 
panoply  we  may  with  profit  consult  John 
Bunyan.  Perhaps  it  may  be  well  to  note 
three  points  which  this  prince  of  dreamers 
has  plainly  made.  First,  he  calls  us  to  ob- 
serve that  Christian,  in  all  his  splendid  accou- 
trement, had  been  provided  with  no  armor 
for  his  back,  so  that  he  felt  it  necessary,  when 
the  bellowing  fiend  drew  near,  "to  venture 
and  stand  his  ground,"  since  to  turn  would 
give  him  greater  advantage  to  pierce  with 
darts.  Then,  in  the  enumeration  of  weapons, 
Bunyan  mentions  "  all-prayer  "  as  one  which 
possessed  great  value  and  efficiency.  For 
myself,  I  acknowledge  that  in  my  youth  I  was 
greatly  curious  to  know  what  this  part  of  the 
armor  could  be.  I  think  I  understand  more 
about  it  now,  since  I  have  been  in  the  con- 
flict. And  then  Bunyan  shows  us  that  in  all 
the  panoply  Christian  wore  there  was  only 
one  thing  for  attack ;  the  rest  was  for  mere 
defence.  The  sword  proved  to  be  the  man's 
reliance ;  for  when  Apollyon  had  him  fairly 
down,  it  was  only  with  his  great  two-edged 
sword  that  he  gave  the  fiend  a  "  deadly 
thrust "  which  turned  the  battle ;  "  then,  in- 
deed, he  did  smile  and  look  upward  !" 

770  Strong  in  Trust.  js. 

Lord,  thou  art  my  Rock  of  strength, 

And  my  home  is  in  thine  arms  ; 
Thou  wilt  send  me  help  at  length. 

And  I  feel  no  wild  alarms. 

2  When  my  trials  tarrv  long, 

Unto  thee  I  look  and  wait. 
Knowing  none,  though  keen  and  strong, 

Can  my  trust  in  thee  abate. 


3  And  this  faith  I  long  have  nursed 
Comes  alone,  O  God,  from  thee; 

Thou  my  heart  didst  open  first, 
Thou  didst  set  this  hope  in  me. 

4  Let  thy  mercy's  wings  be  spread 
O'er  me,  keep  me  close  to  thee  ; 

In  the  peace  thy  love  doth  shed 
Let  me  dwell  eternally. 

5  Be  my  all ;  in  all  I  do, 
Let  me  only  seek  thy  will : 

Where  the  heart  to  thee  is  true, 
All  is  peaceful,  calm,  and  still. 

This  is  another  of  Miss  Catharine  Wink- 
worth's  translations,  which  appeared  in  the 
first  edition  of  her  Lyra  Germanica,  1855.  It 
has  been  considerably  shortened  to  fit  it  for 
present  use,  and  the  first  line  has  been  altered. 
The  original  is  one  of  August  Hermann 
Francke's  finest  hymns.  It  was  written  in 
memory  of  the  wife  of  a  professor  at  Halle, 
and  appended  to  the  funeral  sermon  which 
was  preached  by  Francke  at  Glaucha,  No- 
vember 1 ,  1 7 1 1 .  The  lady  was  one  who  had 
suffered  greatly  both  in  body  and  mind,  but 
bore  all  her  afflictions  with  patient  resigna- 
tion, and  the  hymn  is  known  to  be  a  "  clear 
mirror  of  its  author's  heart  and  life  expe- 
riences." 

77  I  "  The  Shadow  of  a  Rock."  ^s. 

Shadow  of  a  mighty  Rock, 

Stretching  o'er  a  weary  land, 
Hide  me  from  the  tempest's  shock, 

Let  me  in  thy  shelter  stand. 

2  When  thy  presence,  O  my  God, 
Brighter  is  than  I  can  see. 

Shadow  on  the  heavenward  road, 
Let  me  find  my  shade  in  thee. 

3  Out  of  thee  are  shades  of  death. 
Weary  ways,  and  hours  unblest ; 

Shadow  of  the  Rock,  beneath 
Thee  alone  are  joy  and  rest. 

4  Till  the  race  of  life  be  run, 
Till  my  soul  in  rest  be  laid, 

God  of  gods,  thou  art  my  sun  ; 
Son  of  God,  be  thou  my  shade ! 

This  was  taken  from  Hymns  of  Love  and 
Praise,  1863,  written  by  Rev.  John  S.  B.  Mon- 
sell,  LL.  D.  He  entitled  it  "  Jesus,  the  Rock  of 
Ages."  It  is  one  of  the  most  dignified  and 
noble  lyrics  this  author  ever  made.  Its  ref- 
erence is  evidently  to  Isaiah  32  :  2  :  "  And  a 
man  shall  be  as  an  hiding-place  from  the  wind, 
and  a  covert  from  the  tempest ;  as  rivers  of 
water  in  a  dry  place,  as  the  shadow  of  a  great 
rock  in  a  weary  land." 


776  Penuel.—Gen.  32  .  31. 

Come,  O  thou  Traveler  unknown  I 
Whom  still  I  hold,  but  cannot  see, 

My  company  before  is  gone. 
And  I  am  left  alone  with  thee  ; 

With  thee  all  night  I  mean  to  stay. 

And  wrestle  till  the  break  of  day. 


L.  M.  61. 


526 


CHRISTIAN   EXPERIENCE, 


2  I  need  not  tell  thee  who  I  am  ; 
My  sin  and  misery  declare  ; 

Thyself  hast  called  me  by  my  name  ; 

Look  on  ihy  hands  and  read  it  there: 
But  who,  I  ask  thee,  who  art  thou  ? 
Tell  me  thy  name,  and  tell  me  now. 

3  My  prayer  hath  power  with  God  ;  the  grace 
Unspeakable  I  now  receive; 

Through  faith  I  see  thee  face  to  face — 

I  see  thee  face  to  face  and  live ! 
In  vain  I  have  not  wept  and  strove ; 
Thy  nature  and  thy  name  is  Love. 

4  I  know  thee,  Saviour,  who  thou  art — 
Jesus,  the  feeble  sinner's  Friend  ; 

Nor  wilt  thou  with  the  night  depart, 

But  stay  and  love  me  to  the  end  ; 
Thy  mercies  never  shall  remove  ; 
Thy  nature  and  thy  name  is  Love. 

In  the  Methodist  Church  it  is  the  almost 
universal  opinion  that  this  one  of  Rev. 
Charles  Wesley's  Hymns  and  Poems,  1742,  is 
"  the  most  celebrated  lyric  that  he  ever 
wrote."  It  is  founded  upon  the  story  of 
Jacob's  wrestling  with  the  Angel,  Genesis 
32  :  24-26.  John  Wesley  is  reported  to  have 
said  that  Isaac  Watts  had  said  that  this  sin- 
gle poem,  entitled  "  Wrestling  Jacob,"  was 
"  worth  all  the  verses  he  himself  had  writ- 
ten." If  Dr.  Watts  ever  went  off  into  an 
enthusiasm  so  extravagant  as  that,  it  is  likely 
that  he  had  a  poorer  notion  of  his  own  work 
than  Christian  people  since  have  been  led  to 
cherish.  This  piece  is  really  very  poetical 
and  picturesque  ;  it  consists  of  fourteen  stan- 
zas of  six  lines  each,  distributed  into  three 
parts,  entitled  respectively,  "  The  Struggle," 
"  The  Name  Revealed,"  and  "  Victorious 
Rapture."  It  cannot  be  called  a  hymn  except 
by  courtesy  ;  it  is  narrative,  personal,  mystic, 
grand  ;  but  it  is  not  lyric  in  structure,  nor  di- 
rect in  praise.  We  must  all  admit  it  to  be 
one  of  the  finest  religious  poems  in  the  lan- 
guage ;  but  it  is  almost  impossible  to  sing, 
and  does  not  bear  to  be  divided.  The  su- 
preme height  of  the  thought  is  reached  in  the 
second  stanza  of  the  second  part ;  and  that  is 
what  makes  it  such  a  pity  that  somebody 
does  not  authoritatively  change  the  word 
"  bowels  "  into  "  tender  mercies,"  as  the  schol- 
ars did  in  the  New  Revision. 


777 


In  Christ  Alone. 


L.  M.  61. 


Mv  hope  IS  built  on  nothmg  less 
Than  Jesus'  blood  and  righteousness  ; 

1  dare  not  trust  the  sweetest  frame, 
But  wholly  lean  on  Jesus'  name: 
On  Christ,  the  solid  rock,  I  stand  ; 
All  other  ground  is  sinking  sand. 

2  When  darkness  seems  to  vail  his  face, 
I  rest  on  his  unchanging  grace ; 

In  every  high  and  stormy  gale. 
My  anchor  holds  within  the  vail ; 
On  Christ,  the  solid  rock,  I  stand ; 
All  other  ground  is  sinking  sand. 


3  His  oath,  his  covenant,  and  blood. 
Support  me  in  the  whelming  flood  ; 
When  all  around  my  soul  gives  way, 
He  then  is  all  my  hope  ana  stay : 
On  Christ,  the  solid  rock,  I  stand  ; 
All  other  ground  is  sinking  sand. 

Rev.  Edward  Mote  was  born  in  London, 
January  21,  1797,  and  having  been  converted 
under  the  preaching  of  a  Dissenting  minister, 
he  finally  entered  the  Baptist  Church  and  be- 
came a  pastor.  The  last  twenty-six  years  of 
his  life  were  spent  as  a  clergyman  in  the  vil- 
lage of  Horsham,  Sussex,  where  he  died, 
November  13,  1874.  Mr.  Mote  is  known  as 
the  writer  of  this  poem,  which  has  been 
called  by  Bishop  Bickersteth  "  a  grand  hymn 
of  faith."  The  author  says  of  it :  "  One 
morning  it  came  into  my  mind  as  I  went  to 
labor  to  write  a  hymn  on  the  '  Gracious  Ex- 
perience of  a  Christian.'  As  I  went  up 
Holborn  I  had  the  chorus,  '  On  Christ,  the 
solid  rock,  I  stand,  All  other  ground  is  sink- 
ing sand.'  In  the  day  I  had  the  first  four 
verses  complete,  and  wrote  them  off."  The 
hymn  was  first  sung  at  the  bedside  of  a 
dying  parishioner,  and  met  with  such  instant 
favor  that  it  was  printed  as  a  leaflet,  and  then 
inserted  in  the  Spiritual  Magazine.  In  a 
collection  of  original  and  selected  poems  by 
Mr.  Mote  called  Hymns  of  Praise,  1836,  it  was 
published  with  the  title,  "  The  Immutable 
Basis  of  a  Sinner's  Hope." 

791  Life  of  Life.  8s,  7s. 

Laboring  and  heavy-laden. 
Wanting  help  in  time  of  need  ; 

Fainting  by  the  way  from  hunger, 
"  Bread  of  Life  !"  on  thee  we  feed. 

2  Thirsting  for  the  springs  of  water 
That  by  love's  eternal  law 

From  the  stricken  Rock  are  flowing, 
"Well  of  Life  !"  from  thee  we  draw. 

3  In  the  land  of  cloud  and  shadow, 
Where  no  human  eye  can  see, 

Light  to  those  who  sit  in  darkness, 
"  Light  of  Life !"  we  walk  in  thee. 

4  Vexed  with  passion's  hateful  bondage, 
Longing,  struggling  to  be  free ; 

Where  thy  loving  banner  leads  us, 
"  Prince  of  Life  !"  we  follow  thee. 

5  Sick  of  sense's  vain  deceivings. 
Crumbling  round  us  into  dust ; 

Strong  alone  in  faith's  believings, 
"  Word  of  Life !"  in  thee  we  trust. 

6  Thou  the  "  Grace  of  life  "  supplying. 
Thou  the  "  Crown  of  life  "  wilt  give ; 

Dead  to  sin,  and  daily  dying, 
"  Life  of  Life,"  in  thee  we  live. 

This  poem  by  Rev.  Dr.  John  S.  B,  Mon- 
sell  first  appeared  in  his  Hymns  of  Lave  and 
Praise,  1863,  and  was  designed  for  use  at  pen- 
itential and  consecration  services.  It  is  an 
eloquent  presentation  of  the  varied  relations 
in  which  Christ,  as  the  source  of  all  life,  stands 


LOVE   AND   COMMUNION   WITH    CHRIST. 


527 


toward  believers.  "  Bread "  and  "  Well," 
"  Light  "  and  "  Prince,"  "  Word  "  and  "  Life  ;" 
he  is  indeed  the  "  Grace  of  life,"  and  the 
"  Crown  of  life." 

793  Heb.  13 : 8.  P.  M. 

Saints  in  glory,  we  together 
Know  the  song  that  ceases  never; 
Song  of  songs  thou  art,  O  Saviour, 
All  that  endless  day. 

2  Come,  ye  angels,  round  us  gather. 
While  to  Jesus  we  draw  nearer ; 

In  his  throne  he  '11  seat  for  ever 
Those  for  whom  he  died. 

3  Underneath  his  throne  a  river, 
Clear  as  crystal,  flows  for  ever, 
Like  his  fullness,  failing  never  : 

Hail,  enthroned  Lamb  ! 

4  Oh,  the  unsearchable  Redeemer  ! 
Shoreless  ocean,  sounded  never  ! 
Yesterday,  to-day,  for  ever, 

Jesus  Christ,  the  same. 


796 


Still  with  Jesus. 


DR.  NEHEMIAH  ADAMS. 

Rev.  Nehemiah  Adams,  D.  D.,  was  born  in 
Salem,  Mass.,  February  19,  1806,  and  grad- 
uated at  Harvard  College  in  1826.  He  enter- 
ed the  theological  seminary  at  Andover,  finish- 
ing his  course  of  study  in  1829.  Immediately 
after  he  became  pastor  of  a  Congregational 
church  in  Cambridge,  where  he  remained  un- 
til 1834,  when  he  removed  to  the  Essex  Street 
church  in  Boston.  His  pastorate  there  lasted 
until  his  death,  October  6,  1878.  Dr.  Adams 
wrote  several  books,  some  of  which  were  on 
political  subjects,  but  in  hymnology  he  is  only 
known  as  the  author  of  two  poems.  The  one 
given  here  was  first  printed  in  Church  Pas- 
torals, 1864.  The  Scripture  reference  is  to 
Revelation  22 :  i. 


Still,  still  with  thee,  when  purple  morning  breaketh. 

When  the  bird  waketh  and  the  shadows  flee : 
Fairer  than  morning,  lovelier  than  the  daylight, 

Dawns  the  sweet  consciousness,  I  am  with  thee. 
Alone  with  thee,  amid  the  mystic  shadows. 

The  solemn  hush  of  nature  newly  born  ; 
Alone  with  thee,  in  breathless  adoration, 

In  the  calm  dew  and  freshness  of  the  morn. 

2  When  sinks  the  soul,  subdued  by  toil,  to  slumber, 

Its  closing  eye  looks  up  to  thee  in  prayer ; 
Sweet  the  repose,  beneath  thy  wings  o'ershadowing. 

But  sweeter  still  to  wake  and  find  thee  there. 
So  shall  it  be  at  last  in  that  bright  morning 

When  the  soul  waketh,  and  life's  shadows  flee; 
Oh,  in  that  hour,  and  fairer  than  day's  dawning, 

Shall  rise  the  glorious  thought,  I  am  with  thee. 

Mrs.  Harriet  Beecher  Stowe,  who  has  done 
the  world  such  service  as  a  novelist,  is  known 
in  hymnology  chiefly  by  three  contributions 
which  she  made  to  her  famous  brother's 
work.  When  Rev.  Henry  Ward  Beecher 
compiled  his  Plymouth  Collection  in  1855, 
this  poem  was  included  in  it,  with  the  title, 
"  Resting  in  God."  We  are  told  concerning 
the  old  man  Simeon  that  he  was  "  waiting 
for  the  consolation  of  Israel."  Our  lives  are 
moulded,  our  innermost  character  fashioned, 
under  the  full  pressure  of  things  around  us, 
to  be  sure  ;  but  a  Christian's  future  is  fixed 
by  the  future  he  sees.  Our  family  altars,  our 
closets  of  communion,  our  homes  of  plenty, 
our  training  in  this  land  of  schools  and 
churches,  our  open  sanctuaries,  our  unpro- 
hibited Bibles,  are  mighty  means  of  improve- 
ment. We  are  in  the  midst  of  all  which  is 
calculated  to  influence  us  powerfully  to  good. 
Ringing  bells  and  children's  anthems  and  a 
free,  pure  gospel  are  the  most  forceful  of  all 
benedictions  of  God,  and  ought  to  crowd  us 
up  to  duty.  Something  worth  having  is 
here ;  but  there  is  something  better  to  come. 
In  all  the  world  there  is  no  finer  picture  for 
old  men  to  look  upon  than  this  of  Simeon — 
a  happy-hearted,  devout  believer,  with  the 
twilight  of  life  and  dawn-light  of  eternity 
shining  on  his  face  I 

8 10  All  in  All.  CM. 

1  'VE  found  the  Pearl  of  greatest  price. 
My  heart  doth  sing  for  joy; 

And  sing  I  must ;  for  Christ  is  mine, 
Christ  shall  my  song  employ. 

2  Christ  is  my  Prophet,  Priest,  and  King: 
A  Prophet  full  of  light. 

My  great  High-Priest  before  the  throne. 
My  King  of  heavenly  might. 

3  For  he  indeed  is  Lord  of  lords, 
And  he  the  King  of  kings : 

He  is  the  Sun  of  righteousness, 
With  healing  in  his  wings. 

4  Christ  is  my  Peace;  he  died  for  me, 
For  me  he  gave  his  blood  ; 

And  as  my  wondrous  Sacrifice, 
Offered  himself  to  God. 


528 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


5  Christ  Jesus  is  my  All  in  all, 

My  Comfort  and  my  Love, 
My  Life  below,  and  he  shall  be 

My  Joy  and  Crown  above. 

Very  few  facts  are  known  in  regard  to  the 
life  of  the  author  of  this  hymn,  Rev.  John 
Mason,  M.  A.  The  date  of  his  birth  is 
uncertain,  but  he  was  educated  at  Cam- 
bridge, England,  and  after  taking  his  de- 
gree he  became  curate  of  Isham.  In  1668 
he  was  appointed  vicar  of  Stantonbury, 
Bucks,  and  five  years  later  took  the  rectorate 
of  Water-Stratford.  He  was  a  man  of  great 
spirituality  and  depth  of  feeling,  a  friend  of 
Baxter,  who  called  him  "  the  glory  of  the 
Church  of  England."  His  death  occurred 
under  peculiar  circumstances.  One  night 
about  a  month  before  it  he  had  a  vision 
of  Christ,  crowned  and  resplendent.  He 
preached  a  sermon  upon  this  in  which  he 
proclaimed  the  approach  of  the  Second  Ad- 
vent, and  a  report  spread  that  this  would  be 
at  Water-Stratford.  Crowds  gathered,  and 
^reat  excitement  prevailed,  singing  and 
leaping  and  dancing  in  the  streets.  The 
frenzy  had  scarcely  subsided  when  the  aged 
man  died  in  1694,  still  firm  in  his  belief  that 
the  end  was  at  hand.  Mr.  Mason  wrote 
many  hymns :  the  present  one  was  first  pub- 
lished in  his  Songs  of  Praise  to  Almighty 
God,  1683.  It  has  been  altered  frequently, 
especially  the  first  verse,  but  has  always 
kept  a  place  in  the  collections.  The  Scrip- 
ture reference  is  to  Matthew  1 3  :  46. 

3 1  7  Christ  Formed  Within.  C.  M. 

O  Jpsus  Christ,  grow  thou  in  me, 

And  all  things  else  recede ; 
My  heart  be  daily  nearer  thee, 

From  sin  be  daily  freed. 

2  Each  day  let  thy  supporting  might 
My  weakness  still  embrace  ; 

My  darkness  vanish  in  thy  light, 
Thy  life  my  death  efface. 

3  In  thy  bright  beams  which  on  me  fall. 
Fades  every  evil  thought ; 

That  I  am  nothing,  .thou  art  all, 
I  would  be  daily  taught. 

4  Make  this  poor  self  grow  less  and  less. 
Be  thou  my  life  and  aim ; 

Oh,  make  me  daily  through  thy  grace 
More  worthy  of  thy  name. 

Mrs.  Elizabeth  Lee  Smith  is  the  daughter 
of  Rev.  William  Allen,  D.  D.,  the  President 
at  Dartmouth  College.  She  was  born  at 
Hanover,  N.  H.,  in  1817,  and  in  1843  was 
married  to  Rev.  Dr.  H.  B.  Smith.  Her  resi- 
dence was  changed  to  New  York  city,  when 
in  1850  her  husband  became  professor  in 
Union  Theological  Seminary.  He  died  in 
1877,  and  now  she  is  living  in  Lakewood,  N. 
J,     Mrs.  Smith   has   made  several   excellent 


translations ;  the  one  given  here  is  from  the 
German  of  Rev.  Johann  Caspar  Lavater,  who 
was  born  in  Zurich,  November  15,  1741,  and 
studied  for  the  ministry.  He  became  a  pas- 
tor in  his  native  city  in  1775,  and  for  nearly 
twenty-five  years  was  settled  first  over  the 
Orphanage  Church  and  then  over  St.  Peter's. 
In  September,  1799,  the  French  army  under 
Massena  entered  Zurich,  and  Lavater  was  shot 
through  the  body  by  the  treachery  of  a  French 
grenadier  who  had  just  thanked  him  for  an  act 
of  charity.  He  never  recovered  from  this 
wound ,  but  resigned  his  pastorate  a  f e w  m  onths 
later,  and  died  January  2 , 1 801 ,  deeply  lamented. 
He  is  known  among  scientists  by  his  works 
on  Physiognomy,  but  as  a  hymn-writer  he 
had  great  popularity  ;  more  than  seven  hun- 
dred of  his  poems  appeared  in  print.  The 
one  quoted  above  is  in  his  Christ liche  Lieder, 
1780.  The  translation  was  printed  in  the 
British  Messenger  for  November  i ,  1 860,  and 
has  been  included  in  many  different  collec- 
tions. 

8 1 8  Our  Elder  Brother.  C.  M. 

0  Jesus,  when  I  think  of  thee, 
Thy  manger,  cross,  and  throne, 

My  spirit  trusts  exultingly 
in  thee,  and  thee  alone. 

2  I  see  thee  in  thy  weakness  first ; 
Then,  glorious  from  thy  shame, 

1  see  thee  death's  strong  fetters  burst. 
And  reach  heaven's  mightiest  name. 

3  In  each,  a  brother's  love  I  trace 
By  power  divine  exprest. 

One  in  thy  Father  God's  embrace 
As  on  thy  mother's  breast. 

4  For  me  thou  didst  become  a  man, 
For  me  didst  weep  and  die ; 

For  me  achieve  thy  wondrous  plan. 
For  me  ascend  on  high. 

5  Oh,  let  me  share  thy  holy  birth, 
Thy  faith,  thy  death  to  sin  ! 

And,  strong  amidst  the  toils  of  earth, 
My  heavenly  life  begin. 

In  the  Life  and  Letters  of  Dr.  George 
Washington  Bethune,  edited  in  1 867  by  Dr. 
A.  R.  Van  Nest,  we  first  find  the  hymn  we 
quote  above.  It  is  said  to  bear  date  some 
time  in  1847,  and  to  have  passed  into  various 
collections  from  the  Lyra  Sacra  Americana 
in  which  it  was  afterwards  printed.  The 
poem,  as  a  whole,  makes  us  think  of  what 
Robert  Browning  imagines  the  minstrel  David 
to  say  to  the  distempered  Saul : 

"  Would  I  suffer  for  him  that  I  love?  So  wouldst  thou— 

so  wilt  thou  ! 
So  shall  crown  thee  the  topmost,  ineffablest,  uttermost 

crown — 
And  thy  love  fill   infinitude  wholly,   nor  leave  up  nor 

down 
One  spot  for  the  creature  to  stand  in !    It  is  by  no 

breath. 
Turn  of  eye,  wave  of  hand,  that  salvation  joins  issue 

with  death  ! 


LOVE  AND  COMMUNION   WITH   CHRIST. 


529 


As  thy  love  is  discovered  almighty,  almighty  be  proved 
Thy  power,  that  exists  with  and  for  it,  of  being  Beloved ! 
He  who  did  most,  shall  bear  most ;  the  strongest  shall 

stand  the  most  weak. 
'T  is  the  weakness  in  strength  that  I  cry  for!   my  flesh 

that  I  seek 
In  the  Godhead  !    I  seek  and  I  find  it.    O  Saul,  it  shall  be 
A  Face  like  my  face  that  receives  thee  ;  a  Man  like  to 

me, 
Thou  shalt  love  and  be  loved  by,  for  ever  :  a  Hand  like 

this  hand 
Shall  throw  open  the  gates  of  new  life  to  thee !    See  the 

Christ  stand !  " 

82  i  ^  Morning  Prayer.  P.  M. 

Saviour  !  hear  us,  we  pray, 

.  Keep  us  safe  through  this  day  ; 

Keep  our  lives  free  from  sin. 

And  our  hearts  pure  within. 

Ref.— Jesus,  Lord,  hear  our  prayer, 
May  we  rest  in  thy  care. 

2  Be  our  Guardian  and  Guide; 

May  we  walk  by  thy  side 

Till  the  evening  shades  fall 

Over  us — over  all.  ' 

Ref.— Jesus,  Lord,  hear  our  prayer, 
May  we  rest  in  thy  care. 

William  Webster  Ellsworth  was  born  in 
Hartford,  Conn.,  October  30,  1855.  He  now 
resides  in  Yonkers,  N.  Y.,  and  is  engaged  in 
the  publishing  business  in  New  York  city. 
The  hymn  before  us  was  written  for  the  tune 
which  goes  with  it,  an  arrangement  made  by 
Augustin  Cortada,  the  organist  and  choir- 
master of  the  First  Presbyterian  Church  in 
Yonkers.  It  was  first  published  in  The  New 
Laudes  Domini,  1892. 

827  Faithful  Saviour.  7s,  6s.  D. 

To  thee,  O  dear,  dear  Saviour  I 

My  spirit  turns  for  rest, 
My  peace  is  in  thy  favor. 

My  pillow  on  thy  breast ; 
Though  all  the  world  deceive  me, 

I  know  that  I  am  thine. 
And  thou  wilt  never  leave  me, 

O  blessed  Saviour  mine  I 

2  In  thee  my  trust  abideth, 
On  thee  my  hope  relies, 

O  thou  whose  love  provideth 

For  all  beneath  the  skies  ; 
O  thou  whose  mercy  found  me. 

From  bondage  set  me  free. 
And  then  for  ever  bound  me 

With  threefold  cords  to  thee. 

3  Alas,  that  I  should  ever 
Have  failed  in  love  to  thee, 

The  only  one  who  never 

Forgot  or  slighted  me ! 
Oh,  for  that  choicest  blessing 

Of  living  in  thy  love. 
And  thus  on  earth  possessing 

The  peace  of  heaven  above ! 

This  poem,  by  Rev.  John  S.  B.  Monsell,  is 
found  in  several  different  arrangements,  its 
original  form  having  been  five  stanzas  of  eight 
lines  each.  It  was  first  printed  in  his  Hymns 
of  Love  and  Praise,  1863.  The  sentiment  of 
the  song  is  unmistakable.  It  means  to  assert 
that  Jesus  Christ,  our  Saviour,  is  in  himself  a 


sufficiency  for  all  our  supreme  exigencies  of 
need.  Two  illustrations  from  singular  sources 
have  lately  come  to  our  knowledge.  A  med- 
ical man  of  the  highest  authority  has  related 
the  story  of  a  patient  under  his  care,  whose 
case  became  so  desperate  that  a  critical  oper- 
ation was  necessary.  This  promised  to  be 
perilous  and  extremely  painful.  But  the  poor 
fellow  was  timid  ;  he  was  too  weak  for  chlo- 
roform ;  and  he  was  asked  if  he  thought  he 
could  brave  the  pain.  After  considering  a 
moment,  he  answered  quietly,  "  I  can  stand  it 
if  you  will  let  me  sing."  The  surgeon  said, 
"  Sing  away,  my  friend,  as  much  as  you  like." 
So  the  sufferer  sang  this  hymn  : 

"  There  is  a  gate  that  stands  ajar, 
And  through  its  portals  gleaming, 
A  radiance  from  the  cross  afar, 
A  Saviour's  love  revealing." 

In  the  other  instance  it  was  a  very  much 
afflicted  patient  faced  by  the  same  awful 
necessity  of  the  knife.  She  must  have  an 
anaesthetic  perforce,  for  human  nature  could 
not  abide  the  strain.  But  she  was  afraid  of 
what  she  might  say  in  a  possible  delirium, 
and  so  betray  her  sensitive  soul  when  irre- 
sponsible. The  fact  is,  she  had  been  wont 
before  her  conversion  to  use  her  tongue  most 
foully.  She  was  fearful  now  that  she  might 
lapse  into  her  former  habits  of  language.  So 
her  pathetic  prayer  was  lifted  as  the  ether  was 
given  her  :  "  O  Lord,  keep  thou  the  door  of 
my  mouth  ! "  and  when  the  rack  was  over,  her 
first  question  was,  "  Did  I  talk }"  and  the 
answer :  "  No  :  you  sang."  But  she  pressed 
the  inquiry  anxiously :  "  What  was  it?"  And 
with  tears  the  nurse  replied :  "  Nothing, 
dear,  but  '  Safe  in  the  arms  of  Jesus,'  verse 
after  verse,  over  and  over  again." 

830  John  15  :  5.  7s,  6s.  D. 

1  COULD  not  do  without  thee, 

0  Saviour  of  the  lost ! 

Whose  wondrous  love  redeemed  me 

At  such  tremendous  cost : 
Thy  righteousness,  thy  pardon, 

Thy  precious  blood  must  be 
My  only  hope  and  comfort. 

My  glory  and  my  plea. 

2  I  could  not  do  without  thee, 

1  cannot  stand  alone, 

I  have  no  strength  or  goodness. 

No  wisdom  of  my  own ; 
.But  thou,  beloved  Saviour, 

Art  all  in  all  to  me. 
And  perfect  strength  in  weakness 

Is  theirs  who  lean  on  thee. 

3  I  could  not  do  without  thee, 
For,  oh,  the  way  is  long. 

And  I  am  often  weary. 

And  sigh  replaces  song 
How  could  I  ao  without  thee? 

I  do  not  know  the  way  ; 
Thou  knowest,  and  thou  leadest, 

And  wilt  not  let  me  stray. 

34 


53° 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


4  I  could  not  do  without  thee ! 

For  life  is  fleeting  fast, 
And  soon  in  solemn  loneness 

The  river  must  be  past. 
But  thou  wilt  never  leave  me, 

And  though  the  waves  roll  high, 
I  know  thou  wilt  be  with  me, 

And  whisper,  "  It  is  I." 

Among  the  many  hymns  of  Miss  Frances 
Ridley  Havergal  scarcely  any  other  expresses 
such  absolute  dependence  upon  Christ's  sav- 
ing grace.  This  poem  was  written  in  May, 
1873,  and  printed  in  Hotiie- Words  of  that 
same  year,  and  later  in  Under  the  Surface 
and  the  Life  Mosaic. 

An  interesting  story  has  been  related  in 
one  of  our  missionary  periodicals  concerning 
a  faithful  minister  now  laboring  in  the  foreign 
field.  While  traveling  once  in  India,  he  dis- 
covered, in  a  retired  spot  by  the  wayside,  a 
man  lying  on  the  earth.  Seen  at  a  distance, 
he  appeared  to  be  asleep.  He  judged  him  to 
be  one  of  those  singular  heathen  devotees  so 
often  in  that  land  encountered  upon  their 
painful  pilgrimages,  and  supposed  that,  fa- 
tigued with  his  protracted  journey,  he  had 
fallen  on  the  ground  for  rest.  Coming  up  to 
him,  however,  he  found  that  the  man  was 
really  in  a  dying  state,  just  breathing  his  last. 
Kneeling  down  by  his  side,  and  solicitous  to 
give  help  or  bring  comfort  to  one  in  such 
mortal  extremity,  he  put  the  question  in  the 
native  language  :  "  brother,  what  is  your  hope 
for  eternity .-'" 

Faintly,  but  with  an  expression  of  delighted 
surprise,  the  man  replied :  "  The  blood  of 
Jesus  Christ  his  Son  cleanseth  us  from  all 
sin."  His  strength  failed  him  with  the  mere 
repetition  of  these  inspired  words,  and  in  a 
moment  more  the  soul  of  this  unknown  be- 
liever had  passed  out  of  human  sight  and 
was  in  the  presence  of  God.  Subdued  into 
unutterable  emotion  at  thus  suddenly  con- 
fronting death  there  in  so  secluded  a  retreat, 
the  missionary  gazed  upon  the  lifeless  body, 
silently  wondering  who  this  strange  fellow- 
Christian  might  be.  His  eye  caught  a  glimpse 
of  a  fragment  of  paper  closely  clasped  in  the 
dead  man's  hand.  On  examination  this  proved 
to  be  a  detached  leaf  of  the  Bengali  Testa- 
ment ;  and  on  it  were  traced  the  words  which 
that  Hindu  convert  had  repeated  with  trust- 
ful reliance  as  he  floated  out  alone  upon  that 
shoreless  sea  of  eternal  existence  which  rolls 
all  around  the  world. 

There  comes  an  hour  to  every  individual 
when  that  same  impressive  question  must  be 
answered  with  equal  explicitness  :  "  Brother, 
what  is  your  hope  for  eternity  ?"  There  will 
be  a  day  when  each  one  of  us  will  withdraw 
quietly  from  the  dusty  road  of  human  travel 


and  seek  some  undisturbed  spot  in  which  to 
die.  A  score  of  wrong  replies  may  be  made 
then,  when  it  will  be  too  late  for  a  man  to 
make  any  other.  That  which  the  Bengali 
believer  made  is  the  only  safe  one,  and  that 
has  to  be  understood  earlier. 

83 1  The  Good  Shepherd.  7s,  6s.  D. 

O  Jesus,  ever  present, 

O  Shepherd,  ever  kind. 
Thy  very  name  is  music 

To  ear,  and  heart,  and  mind. 
It  woke  my  wondering  childhood 

To  muse  on  things  above; 
It  drew  my  harder  manhood 

With  cords  of  mighty  love. 

2  How  oft  to  sure  destruction 
My  feet  had  gone  astray, 

Wert  thou  not,  patient  Shepherd, 

The  guardian  of  my  way  ! 
How  oft  in  darkness  fallen, 

And  wounded  sore  by  sin, 
Thy  hand  has  gently  raised  me, 

And  healing  balm  poured  in ! 

3  O  Shepherd  good,  I  follow 
Wherever  thou  wilt  lead  ; 

No  matter  where  the  pastures, 

With  thee  at  hand  to  feed. 
Thy  voice,  in  life  so  mighty. 

In  death  shall  make  me  bold  : 
Oh,  bring  my  ransomed  spirit 

To  thine  eternal  fold. 

Rev.  Lawrence  Tuttiett,  who  was  the  son 
of  a  surgeon  in  the  English  Navy,  was  born 
at  Cloyton,  Devonshire,  in  1825,  and  educated 
at  Christ's  Hospital  and  King's  College,  Lon- 
don. He  was  destined  at  first  for  the  medical 
profession,  but  decided  to  abandon  it,  and  he 
took  Holy  Orders  in  1848.  He  was  appointed 
vicar  of  Lea  Marston,  Warwickshire,  in  1854, 
and  in  1870  became  incumbent  at  St.  An- 
drew's, Scotland.  Ten  years  later  he  was 
chosen  Prebendary  of  St.  Ninian's  Cathedral, 
Perth.  Mr.  Tuttiett  has  published  several 
volumes  both  of  prose  and  poetr}',  and  many 
of  his  hymns  are  in  general  use.  They  are 
characterized  by  much  earnestness,  simplicity, 
and  directness,  and  possess  great  merit.  The 
one  given  above  was  first  printed  in  his 
Germs  of  Thought  on  the  Sunday  Services, 
1864,  and  subsequently  in  many  collections 
of  hymns. 

843  ' '  My  blessed  Master. ' ' 

1  WILL  sing  for  Jesus  : 
With  his  blood  he  bought  me, 

And  all  along  my  pilgrim  way 
His  loving  hand  has  brought  me. 

Cho. — Oh,  help  me  sing  for  Jesus, 
Help  me  tell  the  story 
Of  him  who  did  redeem  us, 
The  Lord  of  life  and  glory. 

2  Can  there  overtake  me 
Any  dark  disaster 

While  I  can  sing  for  Jesus, 
My  blessed,  blessed  Master? — Cho. 


P.M. 


GRACES   OF  THE  SPIRIT. 


531 


3  I  will  sing  for  Jesus, 

His  name  alone  prevailing, 

Shall  be  my  sweetest  music 
When  heart  and  flesh  are  failing.- 


PHILIP  PHILLIPS. 

Twenty-five  years  ago  we  sang  this  hymn 
and  tune  on  the  plains  of  Jericho,  as  our  horses 
plodded  along  in  the  starlit  midnight.  The 
party  took  up  the  chorus  the  moment  it  was 
reached,  no  matter  who  started  the  solo. 
Somehow  in  the  course  of  travel  we  learned 
to  like  it,  simple  as  it  is.  We  have  always 
supposed  It  to  have  been  composed  by  Philip 
Phillips,  the  admitted  author  of  the  music. 
Of  late  we  have  been  informed  that  he  did 
not  give  to  it  his  name.  It  has,  however,  ap- 
peared in  his  Sznging  Pilgrim,  1866,  and  in 
some  of  his  other  compilations.  He  was  born 
in  Chautauqua  County,  N.  Y.,  August  13, 
1834.  He  was  a  "  boy  on  a  farm  "  in  early 
life ;  but  he  had  a  talent  for  music  and  a  good 
tenor  voice  for  performing  it.  He  became  a 
"  Singing  Evangelist "  for  a  profession,  and 
has  given  concerts,  and  entertainments  of 
sacred  song  for  years.  He  has  found  audi- 
ences in  almost  all  the  cities  of  the  English- 
speaking  world,*  and  has  certainly  been  pop- 
ular and  very  useful.  He  has  made  some 
hymns,  and  many  tunes ;  these  are  to  be 
found  in  the  various  compilations  used  for 
"  Gospel  Meetings." 

845  Living  by  Faith.  L.  M. 

Oh,  blessed  Life !  the  heart  at  rest. 
When  all  without  tumultuous  seems : 
That  trusts  a  higher  Will,  and  deems 
That  higher  Will,  not  mine,  the  best. 

2  Oh,  blessed  Life  !  the  mind  that  sees. 
Whatever  change  the  years  may  bring, 
A  mercy  still  in  everything, 
.\nd  shming  through  all  mysteries. 


3  Oh,  blessid  Life !  the  soul  that  soars. 
When  sense  of  mortal  sight  is  dim. 
Beyond  the  sense — beyond  to  him 
Whose  love  unlocks  the  heavenly  doors. 

4  Oh,  blessed  Life  !  heart,  mind,  and  soul 
From  self-born  aims  and  wishes  free. 

In  all  at  one  with  Deity, 

And  loyal  to  the  Lord's  control. 

5  Oh,  Life  !  how  blessed  ! — how  divine  ! — 
High  Life,  the  earnest  of  a  higher  : 
Saviour  !  fulfill  my  deep  desire, 

And  let  this  blessed  Life  be  mine. 

Rev.  William  Tidd  Matson  was  born  at 
West  Hackney,  London,  October  17,  1833. 
He  was  educated  at  St.  John's  College,  Cam- 
bridge, and  afterward  studied  at  the  Agricul- 
tural and  Chemical  College  in  Kennington. 
He  had  been  brought  up  in  the  Church  of 
England,  but  at  the  age  of  twenty  he  joined 
the  Methodist  New  Connexion  body,  and  sub- 
sequently became  a  Congregationalist.  After 
his  theological  studies  had  been  completed 
he  entered  the  ministry  and  held  pastorates 
at  Gosport,  Highbury,  Portsmouth,  and  other 
places.  Mr.  Matson  published  several  vol- 
umes of  poetry,  and  some  of  his  hymns  are 
widely  used ;  the  one  given  above,  entitled. 
"  Christ  the  Life  of  Men,"  is  one  of  his  best. 


846 


Straight  Onward. 


L.  M. 


Fight  the  good  fight  with  all  thy  might, 
Christ  is  thy  strength,  and  Christ  thy  right ; 
Lay  hold  on  life,  and  it  shall  be 
Thy  joy  and  crown  eternally. 

2  Run  the  straight  race  through  God's  good  grace. 
Lift  up  thine  eyes,  and  seek  his  face ; 

Life  with  its  way  before  us  lies, 
Christ  is  the  path,  and  Christ  the  prize. 

3  Cast  care  aside,  upon  thy  Guide 
Lean,  and  his  mercy  will  provide: 
Lean,  and  the  trustmg  soul  shall  prove 
Christ  is  its  life,  and  Christ  its  love. 

4  Faint  not,  nor  fear  ;  his  arms  are  near, 
He  changeth  not,  and  thou  art  dear: 
Only  believe,  ana  thou  shall  see 

That  Christ  is  all  in  all  to  thee. 

This  Stirring  appeal  to  the  courage  and 
faith  of  believers  was  written  by  Rev.  Dr. 
John  S.  B.  Monsell,  and  appeared  first  in  his 
Hymns  of  Love  and  Praise,  1 863.  It  was  en- 
titled "  The  Fight  of  Faith."  History  tells  us 
of  one  Vitalis,  a  godly  man,  who  stood  near 
his  friend,  Ursinus,  a  celebrated  physician, 
who  was  condemned  to  die  for  the  gospel.  The 
convicted  man  trembled,  wavered,  and  seemed 
about  to  give  up  his  faith,  rather  than  die  for 
it.  His  friend,  Vitalis,  came  close  beside  him, 
and  though  he  knew  it  would  cost  him  his 
life,  said,  "  What !  have  you  been  so  indus- 
trious heretofore  to  preserve  men's  bodies, 
and  will  you  now  shrink  at  the  saving  of  your 
own  soul.'*  Be  courageous."  He  grew  strong 
and  brave,  and  his  faithful  counselor  was 
condemned  and  died  with  him. 


532 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


847  In  the  Light  of  God.  L.  M.       857 

Grant  us  thy  light,  that  we  may  know 
The  wisdom  thou  alone  canst  give ; 
That  truth  may  guide  where'er  we  go, 
And  virtue  bless  where'er  we  live. 

2  Grant  us  thy  light,  that  we  may  see 
Where  error  lurks  in  human  lore, 
And  turn  our  doubting  minds  to  thee, 
And  love  thy  simple  word  the  more. 

3  Grant  us  thy  light,  that  we  may  learn 
How  dead  is  life  from  thee  apart ; 
How  sure  is  joy  for  all  who  turn 
To  thee  an  undivided  heart. 

4  Grant  us  thy  light,  in  grief  and  pain, 
To  lift  our  burdened  hearts  above ; 
And  count  the  very  cross  a  gain. 
And  bless  our  Father's  hidden  love. 

5  Grant  us  thy  light,  when  soon  or  late 
All  earthly  scenes  shall  pass  away. 
In  thee  to  find  the  open  gate 
To  deathless  home  and  endless  day. 

Among  the  hymns  of  Rev.  Lawrence  Tut- 
tiett  which  have  obtained  a  place  in  common 
use  is  to  be  found  this  prayer  for  the  divine 
light.  It  was  first  printed  in  his  Gertns  of 
Thought  on  the  Sunday  Services,  in  1 864.  It 
is  comforting  always  to  know  that  every  be- 
liever who  is  praying  for  "  light"  may  surely 
find  that  he  will  "  learn  to  love  (God's)  sim- 
ple word  the  more."  It  is  to  be  supposed 
that  all  real  Christians  admit  the  truth  of  that 
military  maxim — the  best  defence  is  a  swift 
attack.  Apollos  was  an  experienced  and 
adroit  swordsman  ;  he  was  "  mighty  in  the 
Scriptures."  To  have  a  weapon  in  one's  hand 
that  is  certain  to  pierce  the  scales  of  Apollyon 
every  thrust,  is  of  itself  enough  to  make  any 
one  valiant.  Most  of  us  have  been  told  the 
child's  story  about  a  mysterious  sword  which 
had  in  its  construction  a  kind  of  life  of  its 
own.  It  was  put  in  the  hand  of  a  coward  in 
order  to  work  his  cure.  When  he  tried  to 
run  away,  it  kept  him  right  up  to  the  front  of 
the  battle.  Whenever  he  attempted  to  fling 
it  from  him,  it  clung  to  his  grasp.  Whenever 
he  sought  to  slink  out  of  sight  and  hide  the 
bright  blade  in  the  folds  of  his  uniform,  of 
itself  it  would  leap  from  the  scabbard,  and 
begin  smiting  the  first  foe  it  could  touch.  By 
and  by  he  learned  to  put  confidence  in  it ;  for 
he  perceived  he  never  could  be  beaten  as  long 
as  that  invincible  hilt  was  in  his  hand.  Such 
a  weapon  is  this  "  sword  of  the  Spirit,  which  is 
the  word  of  God."  It  will  of  itself  fight,  it 
will  of  itself  conquer,  and  in  the  end  it  will 
defend  and  deliver  every  brave  man  who  trusts 
it.  "  I  will  fight  you,"  said  a  hard-fisted  man 
once  to  the  saintly  Hewitson.  "  Very  well," 
replied  he  quietly,  taking  his  Testament  from 
his  pocket ;  "  just  wait  till  I  get  out  my 
sword." 


Longing  for  Holiness. 


CM. 


Oh,  wherefore,  Lord,  doth  thy  dear  praise 

But  tremble  on  my  tongue  ? 
Why  lack  my  lips  sweet  skill  to  raise 

A  full,  triumphant  song? 

2  Oh,  make  me,  Lord,  thy  statutes  learn  ; 
Keep  in  thy  ways  r.iy  feet ; 

Then  shall  my  lips  divinely  burn ; 
Then  shall  my  songs  be  sweet. 

3  Each  sin  I  cast  away  shall  make 
My  soul  more  strong  to  soar; 

Each  work  I  do  for  thee  shall  wake 
A  strain  divine  the  more. 

4  My  voice  shall  more  delight  thine  ear, 
The  more  I  wait  on  thee; 

Thy  service  bring  my  song  more  near 
The  angelic  harmony. 

5  Oh,  when  shall  perfect  holiness 
Make  this  poor  voice  divine, 

And  all  harmonious  heaven  confess 
No  sweeter  song  than  mine? 

This  poem  by  Thomas  Hornblower  Gill 
was  written  in  1849,  and  first  published  in 
G.  Dawson's  Psalms  and  Hymns,  1853.  It 
contained  seven  stanzas  of  four  lines  each, 
but  in  recent  collections  has  been  consider- 
ably abbreviated  for  more  convenient  use. 

858  Meditation.  C.  M. 

1  THINK  of  thee,  my  God,  by  night. 
And  talk  of  thee  by  day  ; 

Thy  love  my  treasure  and  delight. 
Thy  truth  my  strength  and  stay. 

2  The  day  is  dark,  the  night  is  long, 
Unblest  with  thoughts  of  thee. 

And  dull  to  me  the  sweetest  song, 
Unless  its  theme  thou  be. 

3  So  all  day  long,  and  all  the  night, 
Lordj  let  thy  presence  be 

Mine  air,  my  breath,  my  shade,  my  light, 
Myself  absorbed  in  thee. 

This  appeared  in  Dr.  John  S.  B.  Monsell's 
Hymns  of  Love  and  Praise,  1 863.  The  ref- 
erence is  to  Psalm  63  :  5,  6 :  "  My  mouth 
shall  praise  thee  with  joyful  lips  when  I  re- 
member thee  upon  my  bed,  and  meditate  on 
thee  in  the  night-watches."  Meditation  is 
quite  a  different  thing  from  reverie.  The 
romance  of  piety  never  lifts  it ;  it  only  re- 
sembles the  plumes  of  an  ostriph,  ver>'  beauti- 
ful, but  utterly  unfit  for  flying  across  the 
plain.  When  pursued  he  has  to  use  some- 
thing besides  his  feathers  to  get  away  from 
the  hunters.  Nor  is  meditation  mere  specula- 
tion. A  mind  groping  after,  not  what  is  prof- 
itable, but  what  is  novel,  will  never  be  able 
to  grow  on  what  it  discovers.  To  have  odd 
views  passes  in  this  age  often  for  having 
original  or  valuable  views.  Meditation  is 
thinking  upon  truth,  and  God,  and  holiness, 
and  heaven,  till  our  hearts  are  "  absorbed  " 
in  God. 


GRACES   OF  THE   SPIRIT. 


533 


3g  I  Disinterested  Love.  C.  M. 

1  LOVE  thee,  O  my  God,  but  not 
For  what  I  hope  thereby  ; 

Nor  yet  because  who  love  thee  not 
Must  die  eternally. 

2  I  love  thee,  O  my  God,  and  still 
I  ever  will  love  thee. 

Solely  because  my  God  thou  art 
Who  first  hast  loved  me. 

3  For  me,  to  lowest  depth  of  woe 
Thou  didst  thyself  abase  ; 

For  me,  didst  bear  the  cross,  the  shame, 
And  manifold  disgrace : 

4  For  me,  didst  suffer  pains  unknown, 
Blood-sweat  and  agony, 

Yea,  death  itself— all,  all  for  me. 
For  me,  thine  enemy. 

5  Then  shall  I  not,  O  Saviour  mine. 
Shall  I  not  love  thee  well? 

Not  with  the  hope  of  winning  heaven, 
Nor  of  escaping  hell  : 

6  Not  with  the  hope  of  earning  aught, 
Nor  seeking  a  reward, 

But  freely,  fully,  as  thyself 
Hast  lov6d  me,  O  Lord ! 

The  Latin  original  of  this  hymn,  "  O  Deus, 
ego  amo  Te,  Nee  amo  Te  ut  salves  me,"  is  at- 
tributed to  St.  Francis  Xavier.  It  is  supposed 
to  have  been  a  translation  of  a  Spanish  son- 
net of  the  sixteenth  or  seventeenth  century, 
which  commenced,  "  No  me  mueve,  mi  Dios, 
para  quererte"  The  Latin  text  is  to  be 
found  in  the  Psalteriolum  Cantionum  Cathol- 
icarwn,  Cologne,  1772,  and  it  is  from  this 
work  that  Edward  Caswall  made  the  English 
version  before  us.  It  appeared  in  his  Lyra 
Catholica,  1849,  and  with  various  alterations 
has  been  accepted  and  is  in  many  of  our  col- 
lections. 

After  Dr.  Bethune's  death  the  following 
beautiful  hymn,  which  was  evidently  written 
only  the  day  previous,  was  found  in  his  port- 
folio. Its  devout  simplicity  and  exquisite 
tenderness  give  it  a  fitting  place  beside  such 
as  Toplady's  "  Rock  of  Ages,"  Charles  Wes- 
ley's "  Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul,"  and  this,  "  I 
love  thee,  O  my  God,  but  not  for  what  I  hope 
thereby  " : 

"  When  the  time  seems  short,  and  death  is  near, 
And  I  am  pressed  by  doubt  and  fear, 
And  sins,  an  overflowing  tide, 
Assail  my  peace  on  every  side. 
This  thought  my  refuge  still  shall  be, 
1  know  my  Saviour  died  for  me. 

"  His  name  is  Jesus,  and  he  died — 
For  guilty  sinners  crucified  ; 
Content  to  die,  that  he  might  win 
Their  ransom  from  the  death  of  sin. 
No  sinner  worse  than  I  can  be. 
Therefore  I  know  he  died  for  me. 

"  If  grace  were  bought,  I  could  not  buy  : 
If  grace  were  coined,  no  wealth  have  I ; 
By  grace  alone  I  draw  my  breath, 
Held  up  from  everlasting  death. 
Yet  since  I  know  his  grace  is  free, 
I  know  the  Saviour  died  for  me. 


"  I  read  God's  holy  Word,  and  find 
Great  truths  which  far  transcend  my  mind 
And  little  do  I  know  beside 
Of  thought  so  high  and  deep  and  wide. 
This  is  my  best  theology — 
I  know  the  Saviour  died  for  me. 

"  My  faith  is  weak,  but  't  is  thy  gift ; 
Thou  canst  my  helpless  soul  uplift, 
And  say,  '  Thy  bonds  of  death  are  riven. 
Thy  sins  by  me  are  all  forgiven. 
And  thou  shalt  live,  from  guilt  set  free ; 
For  I,  thy  Saviour,  died  for  thee.'  " 

832  Patience.  C.  M. 

Mv  Father,  it  is  good  for  me 

To  trust,  and  not  to  trace, 
And  wait  with  deep  humility 

For  thy  revealing  grace. 

2  Lord  !  when  thy  way  is  in  the  sea. 
And  strange  to  mortal  sense, 

I  love  thee  in  the  mystery, 
I  trust  thy  providence. 

3  I  cannot  see  the  secret  things 
In  this  my  dark  abode  ; 

I  may  not  reach  with  earthly  wings 
The  heights  and  depths  of  God. 

4  So  faith  and  patience,  wait  awhile  I 
Not  doubting,  not  in  fear  ; 

For  soon  in  heaven  my  Father's  smile 
Shall  render  all  things  clear. 

5  Then  shalt  thou  end  Time's  short  eclipse, 
Its  brief,  uncertain  night ; 

Bring  in  the  grand  apocalypse  ! 
Reveal  the  perfect  Light ! 

This  is  another  of  the  numerous  poems  by 
Mr.  George  Rawson,  the  English  lawyer,  who 
has  contributed  to  the  service  of  the  church 
so  much  that  is  excellent.  We  have  been  for- 
tunate enough  to  secure  a  second  likeness  of 
this  good  man,  taken  at  a  different  period  of 
his  career.   The  hymn  before  us  was  first  pub- 


GEORGE  RAWSON. 

lished  in  I3r.  Allon's  Supplemental  Hymns, 
1868,  and  bore  the  heading,  "  Trust."  When 
we  read  God's  Word  we  should  not  waste  our 
time  upon  what  we  cannot  understand,  but 
try  to  get  good  out  of  what  is  already  cleai*. 
A  lady  had  a  favorite  text,  which  she  fre- 
quently repeated  and  which  was  included  in  a 


534 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


collection  she  used  for  daily  help :  "  Fear  thou 
not ;  for  I  am  with  thee  :  be  not  dismayed ; 
for  I  am  thy  God :  I  will  strengthen  thee  ; 
yea,  I  will  help  thee ;  yea,  I  will  uphold  thee 
with  the  right  hand  of  my  righteousness." 
On  the  morning  of  the  day  she  died  it  was 
repeated  at  her  bedside,  with  the  remark  that 
it  was  the  text  for  the  day,  when  she  looked 
up  amid  her  pain  and  said :  "  Is  that  the  text 
for  to-day?"  and  on  being  informed  that  it 
was,  she  replied,  "  Oh,  then,  I  will  just  go 
home  on  that." 


863  Purity. 

Blest  are  the  pure  in  heart, 
For  they  shall  see  their  God  ; 

The  secret  of  the  Lord  is  theirs  : 
Their  soul  is  Christ's  abode. 

2  The  Lord,  who  left  the  heavens 
Our  life  and  peace  to  bring, 

To  dwell  in  lowliness  with  men. 
Their  Pattern  and  their  King : — 

3  He  to  the  lowly  soul 
Doth  still  himself  impart, 

•  And  for  his  dwelling,  and  his  throne, 

Chooseth  the  pure  in  heart. 

4  Lord  !  we  thy  presence  seek  : 
May  ours  this  blessing  be ; 

Oh,  give  the  pure  and  lowly  heart, 
A  temple  meet  for  thee. 


S.  M. 


REV.   JOHN  KEBLE. 

The  original  poem  of  nineteen  stanzas, 
from  which  this  hymn  is  taken,  is  found  in 
the  Christian  Year  of  Rev.  John  Keble.  It 
is  dated  "  October  lo,  1819,"  but  it  does  not 
seem  to  have  been  published  till  1827.  It 
states  the  deepest  of  all  spiritual  doctrines 
with  uttermost  simplicity ;  namely,  that  purity 


of  heart  is  a  "  secret  of  the  Lord,"  and  con- 
sists in  the  actual  indwelling  of  the  Divine 
Christ  in  the  human  soul,  "  Christ  formed  in 
us  the  hope  of  glory."  This  fashions  our 
elementary  notion  of  excellence  in  piety.  It 
is  Jesus  Christ's  righteousness  we  discern  in 
the  character  of  a  perfect  Christian.  The 
Bible  is  full  of  this  infinite  suggestion  of  a 
presence  of  the  Saviour  in  the  saint.  Every- 
where in  the  Scriptures  we  find  a  far-reach- 
ing prediction  of  such  a  redemption  and  of 
such  a  redeemer  for  men.  The  very  texture 
of  the  record  appears  at  times  designedly 
transparent,  as  if  it  had  been  intended  to 
adorn  what  it  was  not  yet  quite  ready  to  re- 
veal. One  reads  portions  of  that  ancient 
book,  which  was  all  the  "  Bible "  men  had 
when  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  was  first 
written,  as  the  enthusiastic  tourist  looks  at 
the  vail  of  an  Oriental  maiden  he  meets — a 
mere  gauze  across  the  beautiful  countenance, 
heightening  a  loveliness  which  it  hardly  pre- 
tends to  conceal.  His  earliest  thought  may 
be.  How  exquisite  is  the  fabric  !  But  his  ex- 
clamation comes  instantly  afterwards.  Oh, 
how  sweet  is  the  face ! 

864  Acquiescence.  S.  M. 

Jesus,  I  live  to  thee. 

The  loveliest  and  best ; 
My  life  in  thee,  thy  life  in  me. 

In  thy  blest  love  I  rest. 

2  Jesus,  I  die  to  thee, 
Whenever  death  shall  come ; 

To  die  in  thee  is  life  to  me 
In  my  eternal  home. 

3  Whether  to  live  or  die, 

I  know  not  which  is  best ; 
To  live  in  thee  is  bliss  to  me, 
To  die  is  endless  rest. 

4  Living  or  dying.  Lord, 
I  ask  but  to  be  thine ; 

My  life  in  thee,  thy  life  in  me. 
Makes  heaven  for  ever  mine. 

Rev.  Henry  Harbaugh,  D.  D.,  was  bom 
near  Waynesborough,  Pa.,  October  28,  1817, 
and  was  unable  to  obtain  a  full  collegiate 
education  on  -account  of  the  poverty  of  his 
parents.  He  taught  school  to  get  means  to 
study,  and  in  1840  he  entered  Marshall  Col- 
lege at  Mercersburg,  Pa.,  for  a  time.  He 
was  ordained  in  1843,  and  became  pastor  of 
the  German  Reformed  Church  in  Lewis- 
burg,  where  he  remained  until  he  was  called 
to  Lancaster,  Pa.,  in  1850.  Subsequently  he 
had  charge  of  a  church  in  Lebanon,  and  in 
1863  he  was  appointed  Professor  of  Theologj' 
at  Mercersburg,  where  he  died,  December 
28,  1867.  Dr.  Harbaugh  published  many 
religious  works,  and  a  volume  entitled  Hymns 
and  Chants  for  Sunday  Schools,  1861.     In 


GRACES   OF   THE   SPIRIT. 


535 


this  is  found  the  poem  quoted  here,  which 
bears  the  date  1850,  and  is  one  of  his  best 
known  pieces. 

867  Poor  in  spirit. — Psa.  40 :  17.  S.  M. 

Lord  Jesus,  think  on  me, 

And  purge  a\vay  my  sin  ; 
From  earth-born  passions  set  nie  free, 

And  make  me  pure  within. 

2  Lord  Jesus,  think  on  me, 
With  many  a  care  opprest. 

Let  me  thy  loving  servant  be, 
.\nd  taste  thy  promised  rest. 

3  Lord  Jesus,  think  on  me, 
Nor  let  me  go  astray  ; 

Through  darkness  and  perplexity 
Point  thou  the  heavenly  way. 

4  Lord  Jesus,  think  on  me. 
That,  when  the  flood  is  passed, 

1  may  the  eternal  brightness  see. 
And  share  thy  joy  at  last. 

5  Lord  Jesus,  think  on  me, 
That  I  may  sing  above 

To  Father,  Spirit,  and  to  thee. 
The  song  of  praise  and  love. 

Rev.  Allen  William  Chatfield,  M.  A.,  was 
born  at  Chatteris.  England,  October  2,  1808, 
and  educated  at  Trinity  College,  Cambridge, 
where  he  graduated  in  1831.  He  took  Holy 
Orders  the  following  year  and  in  1833  be- 
came vicar  of  Stotfold,  Bedfordshire,  where 
he  remained  for  fourteen  years.  In  1847  he 
was  appointed  vicar  of  Much-Marcle,  Here- 
fordshire. Mr.  Chatfield  has  published  a 
number  of  sermons,  but  is  best  known  by  his 
Songs  and  Hymns  of  the  Greek  Christian 
Poets,  1876,  in  which  the  above  poem  was 
first  printed.  It  is  a  tianslation  from  an 
Ode  of  Synesius,  who  was  a  native  of  Cy- 
rene,  born  about  375.  His  descent  was  so 
illustrious  that  his  pedigree,  which  extended 
through  seventeen  centuries,  was  said  by  Gib- 
bon the  historian  to  be  "  unequaled  in  the 
history  of  mankind."  He  was  famous  as  an 
orator,  statesman,  and  patriot.  In  410  he  was 
made  Bishop  of  Ptolemais,  and  died  in  430. 
Although  there  are  many  odes  by  him,  this 
tenth  one  alone  has  come  into  general  use. 
It  is  a  beautiful  example  of  the  blending  of 
Greek  philosophy  with  Christian  adoration. 

868  Genuineness.  S.  M. 

Help  me,  my  God,  to  speak 

True  words  to  thee  each  day, 
True  let  my  voice  be  when  I  praise, 

And  trustful  when  I  pray. 

2  Thy  words  are  true  to  me. 
Let  mine  to  thee  be  true — 

The  speech  o(  my  whole  heart  and  soul, 
However  low  and  few. 

3  True  words  of  grief  for  sin. 
Of  longing  to  be  free. 

Of  groaning  for  deliverance. 
And  likeness,  Lord,  to  thee. 


4  True  words  of  faith  and  hope, 

Of  godly  joy  and  grief  ; 
Lord,  I  believe,  oh,  hear  my  cry, 

Help  thou  my  unbelief. 

Another  of  Dr.  Horatius  Bonar's  lyrics 
taken  from  the  third  series  of  his  Hytnns  of 
Faith  and  Hope,  1867,  where  it  bears  the 
title  "  Truth  Desired."  This  little  story  of 
his  own  early  life,  told  by  the  venerable 
Archdeacon  Ivloule  after  long  years  of  suc- 
cessful hand-to-hand  work  for  Christ,  is 
worth  keeping  in  mind.  Said  he:  "It  seems 
to  me.  I  won't  say  as  yesterday,  but  hardly 
further  back  than  last  week,  that  the  beloved 
and  now  long-sainted  Charles  Bridges  came 
to  my  dear  father's  vicarage  to  give  me  his 
blessing,  now  thirty  years  ago,  before  I  went 
to  China.  I  remember  the  scene  as  though 
it  were  last  week.  Very  simple  it  was.  He 
came  into  my  dear  father's  study,  gave  me 
his  blessing,  and  said  to  me,  '  Well,  Arthur, 
you  are  going  to  China,  with  its  hundreds  of 
millions  of  souls.  Remember,  one  soul  is 
worth  more  than  all  the  wealth  of  the  world.' 
I  knew  what  he  meant ;  I  have  remembered 
it  ever  since.  I  bless  God  that  through  his 
great  mercy  he  has  permitted  me  to  see  the 
realization  of  what  he  meant — if  you  live  a 
whole  lifetime  there  in  China,  and  are  but 
the  means  of  saving  one  soul,  that  one  soul  is 
worth  a  lifetime  of  toil." 

869  "Pure  in  Heart."  S.  M. 

Rejoice,  ye  pure  in  heart ! 

Rejoice,  give  thanks,  and  sing ! 
Vour  glorious  banner  wave  on  high. 

The  cross  of  Christ  your  King ! 

2  Still  lift  your  standard  high  ! 
Still  march  in  firm  array  ! 

As  warriors,  through  the  darkness  toil, 
Till  dawns  the  golden  day  ! 

3  At  last  the  march  shall  end  ; 
The  wearied  ones  shall  rest ; 

The  pilgrims  find  their  Father's  house, 
Jerusalem  the  blest. 

4  Then  on,  ye  pure  in  heart ! 
Rejoice,  give  thanks,  and  sing  ! 

Vour  glorious  banner  wave  on  high. 
The  cross  of  Christ  your  King  ! 

Rev.  Edward  Hayes  Plumptre  wrote  the 
hynm  before  us  in  May,  1865,  for  the  Choir 
Festival  of  Peterborough  of  that  year,  and  it 
was  first  sung  in  the  Cathedral  there.  It  was 
issued  in  the  author's  volume  called  Lazarus 
and  Other  Poems,  1865,  and  finally  included 
in  the  Appendix  to  Hymns,  Ancient  and  Mod- 
ern. It  is  the  most  widely  used  of  all  the  fine 
lyrics  this  writer  has  given  to  us.  The  refer- 
ence is  to  Psalm  20 :  5  :  "  We  will  rejoice  in 
thy  salvation  and  in  the  name  of  our  God  we 
will  set  up  our  banners."  The  church  comes 
vividly  before  our  imagination  as  a  host  with 


536 


CHRISTIAN   EXPERIENCE. 


flags  flying,  and  at  the  same  moment  making 
the  air  ring  with  martial  songs.  Indeed,  there 
is  the  noblest  of  all  wisdom  in  the  inspired 
counsel :  "  Is  any  among  you  afflicted  ?  let  him 
pray.    Is  any  merry  ?  let  him  sing  psalms." 

87 1  Joy.  S.  M. 

Rejoice  in  God  alway ; 

When  earth  looks  heavenly  bright. 
When  joy  makes  glad  the  livelong  day. 

And  peace  shuts  in  the  night. 

2  Rejoice  when  care  and  woe 
The  fainting  soul  oppress  ; 

When  tears  at  wakeful  midnight  flow, 
And  morn  brings  heaviness. 

3  Rejoice  in  hope  and  fear  ; 
Rejoice  in  life  and  death  ; 

Rejoice  when  threatening  storms  are  near, 
And  comfort  languisheth. 

4  When  should  not  they  rejoice 
Whom  Christ  his  brethren  calls, 

Who  hear  and  know  his  guiding  voice 
When  on  their  heart  it  falls  ? 

5  So,  though  our  path  is  steep, 
And  many  a  tempest  lowers. 

Shall  his  own  peace  our  spirits  keep. 
And  Christ's  dear  love  be  ours. 

Sometimes  the  first  line  of  this  hymn  is 
given  as  "  Rejoice  in  Christ  alway."  It  was 
written  by  Rev.  John  Moultrie,  and  published 
in  his  Dream  of  Life,  Lays  of  the  English 
Church,  1843,  where  it  had  five  stanzas  of 
eight  lines  each.  The  Scripture  reference 
would  be  to  Philippians  4 : 4.  True  Christians 
ought  to  be  the  happiest  and  most  cheerful 
people  in  all  the  world.  There  was  one  little 
formula  of  great  meaning,  drawn  from  An- 
drew's exclamation,  perhaps,  which  served  the 
strict  purpose  of  a  primitive  creed  to  all  those 
new  disciples,  and  which  might  well  become 
familiar  upon  our  tongues.  Philip  took  it  up 
easily  when  he  proclaimed  to  Nathanael : 
"  We  have  found  him  of  whom  Moses  in  the 
law,  and  the  prophets,  did  write,  Jesus  of 
Nazareth,  the  son  of  Joseph."  The  passionate 
longing  of  many  a  generation  was  concentrat- 
ed into  that  one  utterance.  We  have  entered 
into  a  fullness  they  never  knew,  now  in  these 
latter  days.  "  Blessed  are  the  eyes  which  see 
the  things  that  ye  see.  For  I  tell  you  that 
many  prophets  and  kings  have  desired  to  see 
those  things  which  ye  see,  and  have  not  seen 
them ;  and  to  hear  those  things  which  ye  hear, 
and  have  not  heard  them."  Murmuring  is 
contagious,  and  propagates  itself  far  and  wide. 
As  men  say  sometimes,  "  That  disease  is 
catching,"  and  so  they  beware  of  it.  And 
what  must  a  Christian  be  when  his  neighbors 
shun  him  because  of  his  disposition !  There 
is  no  more  dangerous  person  on  earth  fora 
companion  than  just  a  chronic  croaker. 


"  Ten  thousand  thousand  precious  gifts 
My  daily  thanks  employ  ; 
Nor  is  the  least  a  cheerful  heart 
That  tastes  those  gifts  with  joy." 

It  is  pitiable  to  think  how  some  of  even 
God's  dear  children,  who  would  be  bravest 
under  violent  stress  of  danger,  are  insidiously 
betrayed  by  what  is  lowest  and  meanest  in 
their  hearts.  The  animal  pulls  down  the 
spiritual  nature.  Little  vexations  make  us 
petulant  and  revengeful.  The  light  word  of  a 
criticism,  the  heat  of  a  summer's  day,  the 
frost  of  a  winter's  night,  the  crying  of  a  child 
in  the  next  chamber,  turns  us  away  into  com- 
plaining and  starts  hard  speech  and  worse 
spite.  And  all  this  shows  how  much  we 
need  a  new  heart,  and  how  much  we  need 
continuing  grace  after  we  get  it. 

88 1  Self-denial.  8s,  7s. 

Pilgrims  in  this  vale  of  sorrow, 
Pressing  onward  toward  the  prize. 

Strength  and  comfort  here  we  borrow 
From  the  Hand  that  rules  the  skies. 

2  'Mid  these  scenes  of  self-denial, 
We  are  called  the  race  to  run  ; 

We  must  meet  full  many  a  trial 
Ere  the  victor's  crown  is  won. 

3  Love  shall  every  conflict  lighten, 
Hope  shall  urge  us  swifter  on  ; 

Faith  shall  every  prospect  brighten. 
Till  the  morn  of  heaven  shall  dawn. 

4  On  the  eternal  arm  reclining. 
We  at  length  shall  win  the  day : 

All  the  powers  of  earth  combining 
Shall  not  snatch  our  crown  away. 

This  composition,  by  Dr.  Thomas  Hast- 
ings, appeared  first  in  his  Doctrinal  Hymns 
and  Religious  Poems,  1850,  with  the  title 
"  Self-denial,"  and  has  come  into  general  use 
in  the  American  churches.  A  pathetic  illus- 
tration of  the  spirit  of  this  hymn  is  found  in 
a  letter  of  Frances  Ridley  Havergal  pub- 
lished since  her  death  :  "  Leamington,  August, 
1878.  The  Lord  has  shown  me  another  little 
step,  and  of  course  I  have  taken  it  with  ex- 
treme delight.  '  Take  my  silver  and  my  gold ' 
now  means  shipping  off  all  my  ornaments 
(including  a  jewel  cabinet  which  is  really  fit 
for  a  countess)  to  the  Church  Missionary 
House,  where  they  will  be  accepted  and  dis- 
posed of  for  me.  I  retain  only  a  brooch  or 
two  for  daily  wear,  which  are  memorials  of 
my  dear  parents ;  also  a  locket  with  the  only 
portrait  I  have  of  my  niece  in  heaven,  my 
Evelyn ;  and  her  '  two  rings,'  mentioned  in 
Under  the  Surface.  But  these  I  redeem,  so 
that  the  whole  value  goes  to  the  Church  Mis- 
sionary Society.  I  had  no  idea  I  had  such  a 
jeweler's  shop  ;  nearly  fifty  articles  are  being 
packed  off.  I  don't  think  I  need  tell  you  I 
never  packed  a  box  with  such  pleasure." 


PRIVILEGES  OF   BELIEVERS. 


884  "  Brother's  Keeper." — Gen.  t^\<).  8s,  7s. 

Blessed  angels,  high  in  heaven, 

O'er  the  penitent  rejoice  ; 
Hast  thou  for  thy  brother  striven 

With  an  importuning  voice  ? 

2  Art  thou  not  thy  brother's  keeper? 
Canst  thou  not  his  soul  obtain? 

He  that  wakes  his  brother  sleeper 
Double  light  himself  shall  gain. 

3  Then,  when  ends  this  life's  short  fever, 
They,  who  many  turn  to  God, 

Like  the  stars  shall  shine  for  ever 
In  eternal  brotherhood  ! 

This  work  of  an  anonymous  author  first 
appeared  in  Dr.  Hastings'  Church  Melodies, 
1858,  with  the  title  "  Care  for  Others."  It 
contained  originally  five  stanzas  of  four  lines 
each,  and  is  sometimes  reprinted  in  its  full 
form.  No  particulars  as  to  its  source  can  be 
obtained  at  present.  The  Scripture  reference 
is  to  Genesis  4  :  9. 

887  The  Beatitudes.  L.  M. 

Blest  are  the  humble  souls  that  see 
Their  emptiness  and  poverty  ; 
Treasures  of  grace  to  them  are  given, 
And  crowns  of  joy  laid  up  in  heaven. 

2  Blest  are  the  meek,  who  stand.afar 
From  rage  and  passion,  noise  and  war; 
God  will  secure  their  happy  state, 
And  plead  their  cause  against  the  great. 

3  Blest  are  the  souls  that  thirst  for  grace, 
Hunger  and  long  for  righteousness ; 
They  shall  be  well  supplied  and  fed 
With  living  streams  and  living  bread. 

4  Blest  are  the  men  whose  pities  move 
And  melt  with  sympathy  and  love ; 
From  Christ  the  Lord  shall  they  obtain 
Like  sympathy  and  love  again. 

5  Blest  are  the  men  of  peaceful  life, 
Who  quench  the  coals  of  growing  strife ; 
They  shall  be  called  the  heirs  of  bliss. 
The  sons  of  God,  the  God  of  peace. 

6  Blest  are  the  sufferers,  who  partake 
Of  pain  and  shame  for  Jesus'  sake  ; 
Their  souls  shall  triumph  in  the  Lord  ; 
Glory  and  joy  are  their  reward. 

Dr.  Isaac  Watts  founded  this  poem  upon 
"  The  Beatitudes,  Matt.  5  :  3-12."  It  is  given 
as  No.  102  in  his  Hymns,  Book  I.,  1707, 

890  A  Subdued  Spirit.  L.  M. 

Beneath  thy  wing,  O  God,  I  rest, 

Under  thy  shadow  safely  lie, 
By  thine  own  strength  in  peace  possest, 

While  dreaded  evils  pass  me  by. 

2  With  strong  desire,  I  here  can  stay 
To  see  thy  love  its  work  complete  : 

Here  can  I  wait  a  long  delay, 
Reposing  at  my  Saviour's  feet. 

3  My  place  of  lowly  service,  too. 
Beneath  that  sheltering  wing  I  see ; 

For  all  the  work  I  have  to  do 
Is  done  through  strengthening  trust  in  thee. 

4  In  faith  and  patience  is  repose. 

In  faith  and  rest  my  strength  sliall  be ; 
And,  when  thy  joy  the  church  o'erflows, 
I  know  that  it  will  visit  me. 


537 


Originally  this  hymn  began  with  the  words 
"  Under  thy  wings,  my  God,  I  rest."  It  was 
published  by  the  author,  Miss  Anna  Leetitia 
Waring,  in  her  Hymns  and  Meditations, 
1850.  Its  Scriptural  reference  is  found  in 
the  words  of  Psalm  61  :4:  "I  will  trust  in 
the  covert  of  thy  wings."  Recall  for  a 
moment  the  story  of  Christian  in  Pilgrim's 
Progress.  He  was  in  the  darkest  ravine  of 
conflict.  He  got  frightened  at  the  goblins 
all  around  him.  Just  then  he  heard  far 
ahead  in  the  darkness  a  sweet  voice  singing, 
"  Though  I  walk  through  the  valley  of  the 
shadow  of  death,  I  will  fear  no  evil,  for  thou 
art  with  me."  And  "  then  he  was  glad,  and 
that  for  these  reasons  ;  first,  because  that  he 
gathered  from  thence  that  some  who  feared 
God  were  in  this  valley  as  well  as  himself. 
Secondly,  for  that  he  perceived  God  was  with 
them,  though  in  that  dark  and  dismal  state ; 
and  why  not,  thought  he,  with  me,  though  by 
reason  of  the  impediment  that  attends  this 
place  I  cannot  perceive  it  ?  Thirdly,  for  that 
he  hoped  (could  he  overtake  them)  to  have 
company  by  and  by.  So  he  went  on,  and 
called  aloud  to  him  that  was  before — but  he 
knew  not  what  to  answer,  for  that  he  also 
thought  himself  to  be  alone.  And  by  and  by 
the  day  broke.  Then  said  Christian,  He  hath 
turned  the  shadow  into  the  morning." 

896  Members  of  Christ.  C.  M. 

Oh,  blessing  rich,  for  sons  of  men 

Members  of  Christ  to  be. 
Joined  to  the  holy  Son  of  God 

In  wondrous  unity. 

2  O  Jesus,  our  great  Head  divine. 
From  whom  most  freely  flow 

The  streams  of  life  and  strength  and  warmth 
To  all  the  frame  below  : 

3  Keep  us  as  members  sound  and  whole 
Within  thy  body  true  ; 

Build  us  into  a  temple  fair. 
Meet  stones  in  order  due. 

4  Keep  us  good  branches  of  thy  vine, 
Large  store  of  fruit  to  yield  ; 

Keep  us  as  sheep  that  wander  not 
From  thy  most  pleasant  field. 

5  For  one  with  God,  O  Jesus  blest, 
We  are,  when  one  with  thee. 

With  saints  on  earth  and  saints  at  rest 
A  glorious  company. 

Bishop  William  Walsham  How  gave  this 
poem  to  the  singing  public  in  the  first  edition 
of  his  Psalms  and  Hymns,  1854.  The  Scrip- 
ture reference  is  to  John  1 5  : 1-8.  "  Re- 
member," said  Robert  Murray  McCheyne, 
"  you  are  not  a  tree,  that  can  stand  alone — you 
are  only  '  a  branch,'  and  it  is  only  while  you 
abide  in  him  as  a  branch  that  you  will 
flourish."  "  The  life  of  Christianity,"  said 
Luther,    "consists  of  possessive  pronouns." 


538 


CHRISTIAN   EXPERIENCE. 


BISHOP  W.  W.    HOW. 

It  is  one  thing  to  say  "  Christ  is  a  Saviour ;" 
it  is  quite  another  thing  to  say, "  He  is  my 
Saviour  and  my  Lord."  The  devil  can  say 
the  first ;  the  true  Christian  alone  can  say  the 
second. 

This  portrait  is  copied  from  a  photograph 
taken  later  than  the  one  used  before. 

.898  Sovereign  Choice.  C.  M. 

Ye  souls  for  whom  the  Son  did  die, 

In  whom  the  Spirit  dwells, 
Your  sweet  amazement  riseth  high, 

And  strong  your  rapture  swells. 

2  Who  spared  not  that  Son  divine? 
Who  sent  that  Spirit  sweet  ? 

Father,  the  work  of  love  is  thine. 
The  wonder  is  complete. 

3  Thrice  blessed  souls,  by  heavenly  love 
Elect,  redeemed,  renewed  ; 

Through  endless  years,  below,  above. 
By  heavenly  love  pursued  ! 

4  Lord  !  wouldst  thou  set- thy  love  on  me 
And  choose  me  in  thy  Son  ? 

Lord  !  hath  my  heart  been  given  to  thee  ? 
Hath  love  in  me  beg^n  ? 

5  Ne'er  let  thy  smile  from  me  depart. 
My  heart  from  thee  remove ; 

Eternal  Lover,  teach  my  heart 
Thine  own  eternal  love. 

In  the  Golden  Chain  of  Praise,  1869,  a 
book  of  poems  by  Thomas  Hornblower  Gill, 
we  find  the  hymn  above  quoted.  It  bears 
the  title  "  Electing  Love."  That  form  of 
evidence  which  is  most  cogent  in  proving 
that  any  given  individual  is  one  of  the  elect 
of  God,  is  furnished  by  the  indwelling  of  the 
Divine  Spirit;  that  creates  an  "  amazement  " 
and  a  "  rapture."  He  wonders,  but  he  sings. 
By  this  the  elect  recognize  each  other.  Un- 
■der  the  reign  of  a  wicked  queen  in  Madagas- 
car, people  of  different  tribes,  speaking  differ- 


ent languages,  who  had  become  converted  to 
Christianity,  w'ere  scattered  by  persecution 
and  widely  removed  from  their  several  homes. 
When  they  met  together  their  only  medium 
of  communication  was  by  resort  to  their  New 
Testaments.  Those  of  one  tribe  would  point 
out  a  passage  in  their  book,  which  those  of 
the  other  would  again  find  in  theirs,  in  a  dif- 
ferent language.  Thus  they  were  not  only 
able  to  converse  together,  to  the  great  com- 
fort and  cheer  of  both,  but  they  found  that 
the  same  Spirit  had  given  like  witness  to  the 
heart  of  each  that  the  saving  Messiah  had 
come  to  each  of  them.  Often  has  this  ex- 
perience been  repeated  in  substance  between 
people  of  remotest  parts  of  earth,  of  lan- 
guages, climates,  government,  and  degrees  of 
civilization  as  widely  diverse  as  can  be.  The 
witness  of  the  Spirit  has  rested  on  each 
Christian  heart,  so  that  he  can  recognize  the 
presence  and  work  of  the  Messiah  in  all  cor- 
ners of  the  earth.  In  comparison  with  this 
never-varying  testimony  even  the  divine  testi- 
mony of  miracles  is  not  greater. 

902  Things  Working  for  Good.  C.  P.  M. 

O  Lord,  how  happy  should  we  be. 
If  we  could  cast  our  care  on  thee, 

If  we  from  self  could  rest ; 
And  feel  at  heart  that  One  above, 
In  perfect  wisdom,  perfect  love, 

Is  working  for  the  best ! 

2  How  far  from  this  our  daily  life. 
Ever  disturbed  by  anxious  strife. 

By  sudden,  wild  alarms  ! 
Oh,  could  we  but  relinquish  all 
Our  earthly  props,  and  simply  fall 

On  thine  almighty  arms  ! 

3  Lord,  make  these  faithless  hearts  of  ours 
Thy  lessons  learn  from  birds  and  flowers, 

And  from  self-torment  cease ! 
Father !  we  trust,  and  we  lie  still — 
Leave  all  things  to  thy  holy  will, 

And  so  find  perfect  peace. 

This  poem,  by  Professor  Joseph  Anstice, 
was  first  published  in  his  posthumous  Hy?nns, 
1836,  and  contained  five  stanzas  of  six  lines 
each.  It  became  very  widely  known  from  its 
having  been  included  in  1841  in  the  Child's 
Christian  Year,  and  since  then  it  has  passed 
into  general  use  in  Great  Britain  and  America. 
The  poem  was  probably  inspired  by  the  verse 
of  the  Psalmist,  "  Cast  thy  burden  upon  the 
Lord,  and  he  shall  sustain  thee."  Two  men 
were  neighbors,  and  each  of  them  had  a  wife 
and  several  little  children ;  and  their  daily 
labor  was  all  they  had  for  their  support.  One 
of  these  men  became  anxious,  thinking,  "  If  I 
should  die  or  be  taken  ill,  what  will  become 
of  my  wife  and  children  ?"  The  same  thought 
came  to  the  other  man,  but  he  did  not  feel 
the  same  anxiety  about  it ;  for  said  he,  "  God, 


PRIVILEGES   OF   BELIEVERS. 


539 


who  knows  his  creatures,  and  who  watches 
over  them,  will  also  watch  over  me,  my  wife, 
and  my  children." 

One  day,  while  the  first  of  these  men  was 
working  in  the  field,  sad  and  dejected  on 
account  of  his  fears,  he  saw  some  birds  fly 
into  a  wood,  then  come  out,  and  soon  after 
return.  On  going  nearer  he  saw  two  nests 
placed  side  by  side,  and  in  each  were  some 
little  birds  just  hatched,  and  not  yet  covered 
with  feathers.  When  he  returned  to  his 
work,  he  from  time  to  time  raised  his  eyes 
and  looked  at  the  birds,  who  went  and  came, 
carrying  food  to  their  little  ones  ;  but  at  the 
moment  when  one  of  the  mothers  returned 
with  some  food  in  her  bill,  a  vulture  seized 
her  and  carried  her  off,  the  poor  mother 
vainly  struggling  in  his  talons  and  uttering 
piercing  cries.  At  this  sight  the  laborer  be- 
came more  anxious  than  before  ;  for  thought 
he,  "  The  death  of  the  parent  is  the  death  of 
the  children.  My  children  have  no  one  to 
provide  for  them  but  myself.  What  then  will 
become  of  them  if  I  fail  them  ?"  All  day  he 
remained  gloomy  and  sad,  and  could  not 
sleep  all  night.  The  next  day,  on  returning 
to  the  field,  he  said  to  himself,  "  I  should 
like  to  see  the  little  ones  of  that  poor  bird- 
mother  ;  many  of  them  are,  doubtless,  dead 
by  this  time."  So  saying,  he  directed  his 
steps  towards  the  wood ;  but  what  was  his 
amazement,  on  looking  into  the  nest,  to  see 
the  little  birds  quite  lively — not  one  starved 
among  them.  Struck  with  this  sight,  he  hid 
himself  to  observe  the  cause.  In  a  short 
time  he  heard  a  faint  cry,  and  saw  the  re- 
maining mother  bringing  in  haste  the  food 
she  had  collected,  and  then  distributing  it  im- 
partially among  all  the  little  ones,  there  be- 
ing sufficient  for  every  one. 

Thus  the  little  orphans  were  not  left  help- 
less in  their  misery.  And  the  father  who  had 
distrusted  Providence  related  in  the  evening 
what  he  had  seen  to  his  neighbor,  who  said 
to  him,  "  Why  need  you  be  anxious  any 
more  ?  God  never  abandons  his  people  ;  his 
love  has  resources  which  we  cannot  fathom. 
Let  us  believe,  hope,  and  love,  and  go  on  our 
way  in  peace." 


903 


The  Better  Part. 


C.  P.  M. 


0  Love  Divine  !  how  sweet  thou  art ! 
When  shall  I  find  my  willing  heart 

All  taken  up  by  thee  ? 

1  thirst  and  faint  and  die  to  prove 
The  greatness  of  redeeming  love — 

The  love  of  Christ  to  me. 

2  Oh,  that  I  could  for  ever  sit 
With  Mary  at  the  Master's  feet ! 

Be  this  my  happy  choice — 


My  only  care,  delight,  and  bliss, 
My  joy,  my  heaven  on  earth,  be  this, 
To  hear  the  Bridegroom's  voice  ! 

3  Oh,  that  I  could,  with  favored  John, 
Recline  my  weary  head  upon 

The  dear  Redeemer's  breast ! 
From  care,  and  sin,  and  sorrow  free, 
Give  me,  O  Lord !  to  find  in  thee 

My  everlasting  rest ! 

4  God  only  knows  the  love  of  God ; 
Oh,  that  it  now  were  shed  abroad 

In  this  poor  stony  heart ! 
For  this  I  sigh  :  for  thee  I  pine ; 
This  only  portion,  Lord,  be  mine, 

Be  mine  the  better  part  I 


CHARLES  WESLEY  S  GRAVE. 


Three  centos  from  this  hymn  by  Rev. 
Charles  Wesley  are  in  as  common  use  as  the 
original,  which  had  seven  stanzas  of  six  lines 
each,  and,  together  with  five  other  poems  on 
the  same  subject,  bore  the  title  "  Desiring  to 
Love."  It  was  first  published  in  Hymns  and 
Sacred  Poems,  1749.  And  now  as  with  this 
grand  song  of  love,  the  sentiment  of  which 
might  well  be  accepted  as  the  ruling  passion 
of  his  life,  the  name  of  Charles  Wesley  dis- 
appears from  our  annotations,  it  seems  fitting 


540 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


that  the  close  of  his  great  life  should  receive 
a  more  extensive  notice. 

In  old  age  Charles  Wesley  rode  a  little  white 
horse,  gray  with  age.  It  appears  to  have  been 
brought  every  morning  from  the  foundry — an 
arrangement  which  its  master  did  not  like, 
but  which  it  was  impossible  to  avoid.  He 
was  somewhat  stouter  than  his  brother,  but 
not  corpulent.  Henry  Moore  says  that  he 
wore  winter  clothing  even  in  summer.  When 
he  mounted  his  horse,  "  if  a  subject  struck 
him,  he  proceeded  to  expand  it  and  put  it  in 
order.  This  he  used  to  write  on  a  card  in 
short-hand  with  his  pencil."  Not  unfrequently 
he  used  to  come  to  the  house  in  the  City  Road, 
and  having  left  the  pony  in  the  garden  in  front, 
he  would  enter,  crying  out  "  Pen  and  ink  !  pen 
and  ink  !"  When  these  were  given  him,  he 
proceeded  to  write  out  his  hymn.  This  done, 
he  looked  around  on  those  present,  saluted 
them  with  much  kindness,  inquired  after  their 
health,  and  then  gave  out  some  short  hymn. 

Every  lover  of  Charles  Wesley's  poetry  has 
been  touched  by  the  dying  effort  of  his  muse. 
For  some  time  he  had  been  lying  quietly  on 
his  bed.  At  last  he  called  for  Mrs.  Wesley, 
and  asked  her  to  write  the  following  lines  at 
his  dictation : 

"  In  age  and  feebleness  extreme, 
Who  shall  a  sinful  worm  redeem  ? 
Jesus,  my  only  hope  thou  art. 
Strength  of  my  failing  flesh  and  heart ; 
Oh,  could  I  catch  a  smile  from  thee. 
And  drop  into  eternity  !" 

On  Saturday,  March  29,  1788,  his  happy 
spirit  fled.  Through  the  whole  week  the  rest- 
lessness of  death  had  been  on  him.  He  slept 
much,  without  refreshment.  On  Tuesday  and 
Wednesday  he  was  not  entirely  sensible.  His 
end  was  what  he  particularly  wished  it  might 
be — peace.  "  No  fiend,"  he  said  to  his  wife, 
"  was  permitted  to  approach  me."  Some  one 
observed  that  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death 
was  hard  to  be  passed.  "  Not  with  Christ," 
was  his  answer.  He  spoke  to  all  his  children 
with  affection  and  hope  of  their  salvation. 
Samuel  Bradburn  sat  up  with  him  the  night 
but  one  before  his  death.  His  mind  was  calm 
as  a  summer  evening.  On  the  Saturday  all 
the  family  stood  round  his  bed.  The  last 
words  which  they  could  catch  from  his  lips 
were  "  Lord,  my  heart,  my  God  !"  With  his 
hand  lying  in  his  daughter's,  the  old  saint 
passed  home  so  gently  that  the  watchers  did 
not  know  when  the  spirit  fled. 


Therefore  that  life,  by  him  redeemed. 

Is  his  through  all  its  days ; 
And  as  with  blessings  it  hath  teemed, 

So  let  it  teem  witii  praise. 

2  For  I  am  his,  and  he  is  mine. 
The  God  whom  I  adore  ! 

My  Father,  Saviour,  Comforter, 

Now  and  for  evermore. 
When  sunk  in  sorrow,  I  despaired, 

And  changed  my  hopes  for  fears ; 
He  bore  my  griefs,  my  burden  shared, 

And  wiped  away  my  tears. 

3  Therefore  the  joy,  by  him  restored, 
To  him  by  right  belongs ; 

And  to  my  gracious,  lovmg  Lord, 
I  '11  sing  through  life  my  songs: 

For  I  am  his,  and  he  is  mine. 
The  God  whom  I  adore  ! 

My  Father,  Saviour,  Comforter, 
Now  and  for  evermore. 

Another  of  the  lyrics  of  Rev.  John  S.  B. 
Monsell,  and  published  together  with  many 
others  in  his  Hymns  of  Lcrve  and  Praise,  1863. 
It  bears  the  title  "  The  Love  of  God,"  and 
reiterates  the  old  and  blessed  truths  of  the 
gospel.  "  Ye  are  not  your  own,  for  ye  are 
bought  with  a  price,"  I.  Corinthians  6:19,  20. 
And  again  I.  Peter  1:17-19:  "  Pass  the  time 
of  your  sojourning  here  in  fear  :  forasmuch  as 
ye  know  that  ye  were  not  redeemed  with  cor- 
ruptible things,  as  silver  and  gold,  from  your 
vain  conversation  received  by  tradition  from 
your  fathers,  but  with  the  precious  blood  of 
Christ,  as  of  a  lamb  without  blemish  and  with- 
out spot." 


905  Bought  with  a  Price. 

When  I  had  wandered  from  his  fold. 
His  love  the  wanderer  sought ; 

When  slave-like  into  bondage  sold. 
His  blood  my  freedom  bought ; 


906  GoiTs  Peace.— Phil.  4:7.  C.  M. 

We  bless  thee  for  thy  peace,  O  God  ! 

Deep  as  the  soundless  sea, 
Which  falls  like  sunshine  on  the  road 

Of  those  who  trust  in  thee. 

2  We  ask  not,  Father,  for  repose 
Which  comes  from  outward  rest, 

If  we  may  have  through  all  life's  woes 
Thy  peace  within  our  breast : 

3  That  peace  which  suffers  and  is  strong, 
Trusts  where  it  cannot  see, 

Deems  not  the  trial-way  too  long. 
But  leaves  the  end  with  thee. 

4  O  Father,  give  our  hearts  this  peace, 
Whate'er  may  outward  be. 

Till  all  life's  discipline  shall  cease. 
And  we  go  home  to  thee. 

We  found  this  excellent  hymn  in  Church 
Melodies,  1858;  but  Dr.  Hastings  could  not 
remember  who  made  it  nor  whence  he  quoted 
it.  We  put  it  into  Songs  of  the  Church,  1862, 
and  have  continued  it  in  one  or  two  compila- 
tions since ;  and  still  have  never  seen  any 
name  attached  to  it.  The  stanzas  are  all  found 
in  Dr.  Allon's  Supplement  to  the  Congrega- 
tional Hymn  Book,  1868  ;  but  it  stands  mourn- 
C.  M.  D.  fully  nameless.  Most  pastors  would  welcome 
its  use  when  preaching  upon  Philippians  4 : 7, 
for  it  fitly  voices  the  beautiful  benediction : 
"  And  the  peace  of  God,  which  passeth  all 


PRIVILEGES   OF    BELIEVERS. 


541 


understanding,  shall   keep   your  hearts   and 
minds  through  Christ  Jesus." 


Rest  in  'God. 


IIS,  los,  6s. 


914 

Still    will  we   trust,  though  earth    seem    dark    and 
dreary, 
And  the  heart  faint  beneath  his  chastening  rod, 
Though    rough    and    steep  our  pathway,  worn    and 
wear\'. 

Still  will  we  trust  in  God. 

2  Our  eyes  see  dimly  till  by  faith  anointed, 

And  our  blind  choosing  brings  us  grief  and  pain; 
Through  him  alone  who  hath  our  way  appointed. 
We  find  our  peace  again. 

3  Choose  for  us,  God !  nor  let  our  weak  preferring 
Cheat  our  poor  souls  of  good  thou  hast  designed : 

Choose  for  us,  God  !  thy  wisdom  is  unerring. 
And  we  are  fools  and  blind, 

4  Let  us  press  on,  in  patient  self-denial. 
Accept  the  hardship,  shrink  not  from  the  loss; 

Our  portion  lies  beyond  the  hour  of  trial. 
Our  crown  beyond  the  cross. 

This  is  the  most  widely  used  of  the  hymns 
of  William  Henry  Burleigh,  and  is  to  be 
found  in  the  very  best  collections  on  both 
sides  of  the  sea.  It  first  appeared  in  the 
Lyra  Sacra  Americana,  1868.  Sometimes 
it  requires  more  real  piety  to  be  still  under 
commonplace  worries,  to  be  patient  in  prosaic 
drudgeries,  than  to  go  straight  into  battle. 
A  great  many  Christians  are  dissatisfied  un- 
less they  can  be  set  about  doing  some  big 
thiftg.  Simon  Peter  comes  exactly  within 
our  range — a  great,  honest,  loving  soul,  but 
often  self-conscious  and  melodramatic.  He 
told  Jesus  Christ  once  that  he  would  lay 
down  his  life  for  his  sake.  That  was  rash 
and  unnecessary.  Better  have  kept  still  till 
he  was  asked.  There  was  going  to  be  room 
enough  for  endurance  and  valor  that  night, 
without  wasting  it  in  brag.  Jesus  rebuked 
him — predicted  the  denial  instead,  and 
warned  him  sternly.  Peter  felt  himself  mis- 
used— at  least  misunderstood.  He  meant 
even  Jesus  should  do  him  justice.  He  gets 
hold  privately  of  a  sword,  and  follows  val- 
iantly on.  He  intends  to  show  he  had  been 
literally  in  earnest.  So  he  marches  through 
the  shadows  in  a  military  way  towards  Geth- 
semane,  sword  drawn  in  preparation.  Only 
he  meets  nobody,  and  of  course  has  no  fight. 
And  time  soothes  him  a  little.  The  Jerusalem 
evening  took  down  his  fever  on  the  walk — 
nights  are  chill  and  cooling  there  out-of- 
doors.  By  the  time  he  reached  the  shade  of 
the  olives  he  was  considerably  calmed.  Then 
Jesus  said  suddenly — not  fight — but  just  wait 
here.  The  eager  Peter  was  put  at  common- 
place watching.  And  he  that  was  going  to 
die  just  now  for  Christ's  dear  sake  simply 
fell  asleep  the  moment  he  was  left  alone  at 
his  post.     When  the  good  Lord  wants  any  of 


us  to  die,  or  to  fight,  for  him,  he  will  undoubt- 
edly tell  us  so.  It  remains  for  us  to  be 
quite  as  willing  to  live  and  to  watch.  The 
slighter  ministries  of  affection  will  show  that 
we  set  him  before  us  always  ;  then  we  shall 
not  be  moved. 

917  "  Endureth  for  Ever."  P.  M. 

Breast  the  wave.  Christian,  when  it  is  strongest ; 
Watch  for  day.  Christian,  when  night  is  longest ; 
Onward  and  onward  still  be  thine  endeavor ; 
The  rest  that  remaineth  endureth  for  ever. 

2  Fight  the  fight.  Christian,  Jesus  is  o'er  thee; 
Run  the  race.  Christian,  heaven  is  before  thee; 
He  who  hath  promised  all  faltereth  never ; 
Oh,  trust  in  the  love  that  endureth  for  ever. 

3  Lift  the  eye.  Christian,  just  as  it  closeth  ; 
Raise  the  heart.  Christian,  ere  it  reposeth  ; 
Nothing  thy  soul  from  the  Saviour  shall  sever ; 
Soon  shalt  thou  mount  upward  to  praise  him  for 

ever. 

Joseph  Stammers,  the  author  of  this  favor- 
ite hymn,  was  born  at  Bury  St.  Edmunds, 
England,  in  1801,  and  received  a  legal  edu- 
cation. After  practising  in  London  for  a 
time,  he  was  called  to  the  Bar  in  1833.  He 
died  in  London,  May  18,  1885.  He  wrote  a 
few  hymns  for  the  Lyra  Britannica,  which 
have  not  retained  a  place  in  general  use,  but 
this  poem  will  cause  his  name  to  be  long  re- 
membered. It  was  contributed  in  1830  to 
the  Cottage  Magazine,  a  small  serial  which 
was  conducted  by  Rev.  Mr.  Buckworth,  vicar 
of  Dewsbury. 

9 1 8  Loving  and  Loved.  7s.  D. 

Loved  with  everlasting  love, 

Led  by  grace  that  love  to  know  1 
Spirit,  breathing  from  above. 

Thou  hast  taught  me  it  is  so. 
Oh,  this  full  and  perfect  peace ! 

Oh,  this  transport  all  aivine! 
In  a  love  which  cannot  cease, 

I  am  his  and  he  is  mine. 

2  Things  that  once  caused  wild  alarms 
Cannot  now  disturb  my  rest. 

Closed  in  everlasting  arms, 

Pillowed  on  his  loving  breast. 
Oh,  to  lie  for  ever  here, 

Care,  and  doubt,  and  self  resign. 
While  he  whispers  in  my  ear, 

I  am  his  and  he  is  mine!  , 

3  His  for  ever,  only  his ! 

Who  the  Lord  and  me  can  part  ? 
Ah,  with  what  a  rest  of  bliss 

Christ  can  fill  the  loving  heart ! 
Heaven  and  earth  may  fade  and  flee. 

First-born  light  in  gloom  decline  : 
But  while  God  and  I  shall  be, 

I  am  his  and  he  is  mine. 

We  kept  this  fine  piece  of  poetry  in  our 
scrap-book  for  many  years.  It  came  out  of 
some  unremembered  newspaper,  and  it  had 
no  name  of  its  own.  Dr.  Parker  has  a  good 
scheme  for  a  sermon  in  one  of  his  volumes : 
"  The  anonymous  ministries  of  the  Bible."  It 


542 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


would  be  an  excellent  theme  for  some  good 
hymnologist  to  comment  upon  the  usefulness 
of  the  anonymous  ministries  of  one  sacred 
song  through  the  ages.  He  might  begin 
with  the  longest  poem  in  the  psalter,  Psalm 
1 19.  How  many  hearts  a  perfect  hymn  cheers 
in  its  wonderful  career  !  This  one  turns  upon 
its  persistent  refrain  :  "  I  am  his,  and  he  is 
mine,"  Solomon's  Song  2:16. 


9(9 


Daily  Food. 

Day  by  day  the  manna  fell : 
Oh.  to  learn  this  lesson  well  I 
Still  by  constant  mercy  fed, 
Give  me.  Lord,  my  daily  bread. 
"  Day  by  day  "  the  promise  reads, 
Daily  strength  for  daily  needs ; 
Cast  foreboding  fears  away, 
Take  the  manna  of  to-day. 

2  Lord,  my  times  are  in  thy  hand  ; 

All  my  sanguine  hopes  have  planned. 

To  thy  wisdom  I  resign. 

And  would  make  thy  purpose  mine. 

Thou  my  daily  task  shalt  give ; 

Day  by  day  to  thee  I  live  : 

So  shall  added  years  fulfill, 

Not  mine  own— my  Father's  will. 

7,  Fond  ambition,  whisper  not ; 

Happy  is  my  humble  lot,   . 

Anxious,  busy  cares,  away : 

I  'm  provided  for  to-day. 

Oh,  to  live  exempt  from  care 

By  the  energy  of^prayer : 

Strong  in  faith,  with  mind  subdued. 

Yet  elate  with  gratitude ! 


7s.  D. 


JOSIAH  CONDER. 

As  the  fourth  of  six  metrical  paraphrases  of 
portions  of  the  Lord's  Prayer,  this  hymn  was 
given  in  Josiah  Conder's  work,  The  Choir 
and  the  Oratory,  1837,  though  it  appeared 
separately  a  year  earlier  in  his  Congrega- 
tional Hymn-Book.  It  is  in  general  use  in 
Great  Britain  and  America.  The  Scriptural 
reference  is  to  Exodus  16:21.  In  studying 
the  account  of  the  manna  sent  to  the  Israelite 
host  in  the  wilderness  the  scholars  of  Rabbi 
ben  Jochai  once  asked  him  :  "  Why  did  not 
the  Lord  furnish  enough  manna  to  Israel  for 
a  year  all  at  one  time .''"     Then  the  teacher 


said  :  '•  I  will  answer  you  with  a  parable. 
Once  there  was  a  king  who  had  a  son  to 
whom  he  gave  a  yearly  allowance,  paying  him 
the  entire  sum  on  a  tixed  day.  It  soon  hap- 
pened that  the  day  on  which  the  allowance 
was  due  was  the  only  day  in  the  year  when 
the  father  ever  saw  his  son.  So  the  king 
changed  his  plan,  and  gave  his  son  day  by  day 
that  which  sufficed  for  the  day.  And  now 
the  son  visited  his  father  every  morning. 
Thus  God  dealt  with  Israel." 

923  strength  from  the  Word.  i  os,  4s. 

Thy  word,  O  Lord,  thy  precious  word  alone. 

Can  lead  me  on  ; 
By  this,  until  the  darksome  night  be  gone. 

Lead  thou  me  on  ! 
Thy  word  is  light,  thy  word  is  life  and  power ; 
By  it,  oh,  guide  me  in  each  trying  hour! 

2  Whate'er  my  path,  led  by  the  word,  't  is  good. 

Oh,  lead  me  on  ! 
Be  my  poor  heart  thy  blessed  word's  abode. 

Lead  thou  me  on ! 
Thy  Holy  Spirit  gives  the  light  to  see 
And  leads  me  by  thy  word,  close  following  thee. 

3  Led  by  aught  else,  I  tread  a  devious  way. 

Oh,  lead  me  on  ! 
Speak,  Lord,  and  help  me  ever  to  obey. 

Lead  thou  me  on  ! 
My  every  step  shall  then  be  well  defined, 
And  all  I  do  according  to  thy  mind. 

Albert  Midlane  was  born  at  Newport  in 
the  Isle  of  Wight,  January  23,  1825,  and  has 
resided  there  for  many  years,  being  engaged 
in  business.  He  began  to  write  hymns 
while  still  quite  young,  and  the  number  has 
now  reached  more  than  three  hundred,  many 
of  which  are  in  common  use.  They  have  ap- 
peared in  magazines  and  mission  hymn-books, 
and  several  volumes  of  them  have  been  com- 
piled. The  one  quoted  here  was  written  in 
April,  1884,  and  published  in  the  Friendly 
Visitor  of  July,  1885,  and  later  in  the /"r/;;//- 
tive  Methodist  Hymnal,  1887.  Rev.  John 
Wesley  once  cried  out :  "  In  every  age  and 
country  Satan  has  whispered  to  those  who  be- 
gan to  taste  of  the  powers  of  the  world  to 
come,  '  To  the  desert !'  '  To  the  wilderness  !' 
Most  of  our  little  flock  at  Oxford  were  tried 
with  this,  my  brother  and  I  in  particular. 
Nay,  but  I  say,  '  To  the  Bible  I  To  the  Bible  !' 
and  there  you  will  learn,  as  you  have  time,'  to 
do  good  unto  all  men.'  " 


924 


Unfaltering  Faith. 


IDS,  4s. 


Light  of  the  world  !  whose  kind  and  gentle  care 

Is  joy  and  rest : 
Whose  counsels  and  commands  so  gracious  are. 

Wisest  and  best. 
Shine  on  my  path,  dear  Lord,  and  guard  the  way, 
Lest  my  poor  heart,  forgetting,  go  astray. 

2  Lord  of  my  life!  my  soul's  most  pure  desire, 

Its  hope  and  peace. 
Let  not  the  faith  thy  1  jving  words  inspire 


DISCIPLINE  AND   SORROW. 


54S 


Falter,  or  cease ; 
But  be  to  me,  true  Friend,  my  chief  delight, 
And  safely  guide,  that  every  step  be  right. 

3  My  blessed  Lord  !  what  bliss  to  feel  thee  near, 

Faithful  and  true; 
To  trust  in  thee,  without  one  doubt  or  fear, 

Thy  will  to  do ; 
And  alltha  while  to  know  that  thou,  our  Friend, 
Art  blessing  us,  and  wilt  bless  to  the  end. 

4  And  then,  oh,  then  !  when  sorrow's  night  is  o'er, 

Life's  daylight  come. 
And  we  are  safe  within  heaven's  golden  door, 

At  home  !  at  home ! 
How  full  of  glad  rejoicing  will  we  raise, 
Saviour,  to  thee  our  everlasting  praise. 

The  Dicttofiary  of  Hyinnology,  calls  this  the 
best  composition  of  its  author,  Henry  Bate- 
man.  It  was  first  published  in  Dale's  Ettg- 
lish  Hymn -Book,  1874.  If  only  for  the 
"  well-ordered  speech  "  we  were  to  be  heard, 
surely  God  would  listen  to  a  prayer  for  divine 
guidance  so  exquisitely  worded  as  this.  "  I 
have  no  doubt  that  the  school  of  affliction  is 
profitable,"  said  a  worried  believer,  •'  but 
tuition  is  certainly  high."  From  one  point 
of  view,  the  sunshiny  happy  experience  of 
piety,  ■  it  is  easy  to  show  the  advantage  of  a 
religious  life.  The.surrender  brings  a  patron- 
age, and  the  study  is  rewarded  with  attain- 
ment. But  how  is  it  with  all  that  further 
discipline  of  affliction  into  which  one  is  neces- 
sarily led  ? 

It  would  afford  a  ready  reply  of  extrication 
to  say  that  wicked  people  are  afflicted  as 
much  as  those  who  are  good.  But  we  do 
not  suppose  there  is  any  need  of  avoiding 
the  direct  issue.  Sure  we  are  of  two  things  : 
in  the  Scripture  we  are  told  that  God 
specially  loves  believers.  This  would  seem 
to  intimate  that  he  would  relieve  them  from 
the  suffering  of  common  humanity.  Moreover 
we  are  told  that  he  shows  his  love  by  increas- 
ing rather  than  mitigating  their  trials.  From 
this  we  must  infer  that  afflictions  have  a  kind 
of  mysterious  benefit  to  confer  which  renders 
them  advantageous. 

In  one  of  the  Psalms  we  find  this  verse  : 
"  Before  I  was  afflicted  I  went  astray,  but  now 
have  I  kept  thy  word.  It  was  good  for  me 
that  I  was  afflicted,  that  I  might  learn  thy 
statutes."  It  is  not  certainly  on  record  who 
wrote  these  words.  So  we  cannot  say  from 
whose  religious  experience  such  a  leaf  has 
been  torn.  It  has  more  power,  perhaps,  by 
being  anonymous.  But  he  asserts  after  long 
trial  that  God  has  disciplined  him  with 
sorrow,  and  rewarded  him  with  disclosures 
of  truth  and  comfort  out  of  the  Bible ;  and 
that  on  the  whole  he  thought  he  had  made 
a  good  bargain. 


927  Psalm  137. 

Far  from  my  heavenly  home. 
Far  from  my  Father's  breast. 

Fainting,  I  cry,  "  Blest  Spirit,  come. 
And  speed  me  to  my  rest. 

2  "  Upon  the  willows  long 
My  harp  has  silent  hung; 

How  should  I  sing  a  cheerful  song, 
Till  thou  inspire  my  tongue?" 

3  My  spirit  homeward  turns. 
And  fain  would  thither  flee; 

My  heart,  O  Zion  !  droops  and  yearns. 
When  I  remember  thee. 

4  To  thee,  to  thee  I  press — 
A  dark  and  toilsome  road ; 

When  shall  I  pass  the  wilderness. 
And  reach  the  saints'  abode? 

5  God  of  my  life!  be  near! 
On  thee  my  hopes  I  cast ; 

Oh  !  guide  me  through  the  desert  here^ 
And  bring  me  home  at  last. 


S.  M. 


HENRY  F.   LVTE. 


We  add  a  fresh  portrait  taken  but  a  short 
time  before  the  author's  death.  This  is 
by  far  the  most  generally  used  of  Rev. 
Henry  Francis  Lyte's  paraphrases.  It  is  his 
version  of  Psalm  137,  and  it  appeared 
first  in  the  author's  Spirit  of  the  Psalms, 
1834.  It  represents  that  longing  of  the  soul 
for  the  other  life  which  exhibits  and  proves 
its  entire  weanedness  from  this.  Mere  wist- 
fulness,  however,  has  very  little  grace  in  it. 
We  should  be  engaged  in  making  ourselves 
ready  for  the  presence  of  the  King.  Nowa- 
days we  are  coming  to  appreciate,  and  per- 
haps even  to  understand,  the  expression 
found  in  one  of  the  old  Psalms,  "  the  strife  of 
tongues."  It  is  time  to  stop  the  rattle  of 
words,  and  begin  to  act  and  to  be.     Every 


544 


CHRISTIAN   EXPERIENCE. 


day  lately  I  have  been  repeating  for  my  own 
meditation  one  of  George  Eliot's  sayings  :  "  It 
is  very  difficult  to  be  learned  :  it  seems  as  if 
people  were  worn  out  on  the  way  to  great 
thoughts,  and  cannot  enjoy  them  because  they 
are  too  tired." 

Beyond  this  turmoil  there  is  peace  some- 
where. Then  whatever  intelligences  we  are 
cast  among,  whatever  "  social  joys  are  there," 
whatever  comrades  we  are  to  have  for  the 
eternal  years,  they  will  quietly  look  us  in  the 
face  and  register  us  for  exactly  what  we  are. 
The  time  is  not  far  ahead  in  which  we  must 
come  to  a  settlement.  The  ancient  Arians 
used  to  say  that  no  soul  could  expect  to  enter 
Paradise  save  by  one  long  narrow  bridge. 
At  the  crossing  each  man  was  to  be  met  by  a 
phantom — some  one  looking  like  a  spirit  or 
an  angel  from  the  light  or  from  the  dark- 
ness— a  spectral  figure  resembling  a  hideous 
monster  or  a  beautiful  creature  of  joy  and 
peace,  whose  office  it  would  be  to  lead  the 
mortal  across  the  gulf  or  scare  him  to  plunge 
off  into  it.  And  if  any  one  should  ask  the 
g^ide  for  its  name  and  history,  all  the  answer 
he  would  receive  would  be  this  :  "I  am  the 
spirit  of  thy  life ;  what  thou  hast  been,  that 
thou  must  be  !  " 

929  Succor  and  S»lace.  6s,  5s. 

Oh,  let  him  whose  sorrow 

No  relief  can  find, 
Trust  in  God  and  borrow 

Ease  for  heart  and  mind. 

2  Where  the  mourner  weeping 
Sheds  the  secret  tear, 

God  his  watch  is  keeping, 
Though  none  else  is  near. 

3  God  will  never  leave  us, 
All  our  wants  he  knows, 

Feels  the  pains  that  grieve  us, 
Sees  our  cares  and  woes. 

4  When  in  grief  we  languish, 
He  will  dry  the  tear. 

Who  his  children's  anguish 
Soothes  with  succor  near. 

5  All  our  woe  and  sadness 
In  this  world  below. 

Balance  not  the  gladness 
We  in  heaven  shall  know — 

6  When  our  gracious  Saviour, 
In  the  realms  above. 

Crowns  us  with  his  favor. 
Fills  us  with  his  love. 

The  German  hymn  from  which  this  is 
translated,  "  Wem  in  Leidenstagen"  is  the 
work  of  Heinrich  Siegmund  Oswald,  who 
was  born  at  Nimmersatt,  in  Silesia,  June  30, 
1751.  He  held  many  public  positions,  and 
in  1 791  was  appointed  reader  to  King  Fried- 
rich  Wilhelm  II.  After  the  king's  death  he 
received  a  pension,  and  finally  retired  to 
Breslau,  where   he   died,  September  8,  1834, 


He  wrote  over  a  hundred  hymns ,  biit  this  one, 
"  For  Mourners,"  is  perhaps  the  best  known. 
The  English  rendering  is  the  work  of  Miss 
Frances  E.  Cox,  and  appeared  first  in  1841 
in  her  Sacred  Hymtts  from  the  Cer7nan, 
This  song  of  cheer  raises  and  replies  to  the 
question  concerning  the  real  errand  or  purpose 
of  afflictions.  But  there  is  a  class  of  sorrows, 
actually  the  heaviest  we  have,  which  are 
almost  inexplicable.  These  are  our  remorses 
and  our  pains  of  penitence  and  shame  after 
being  overcome  by  Satan.  Of  these  our  old 
standard  of  faith  says  :  "  The  most  wise,  right- 
eous, and  gracious  God  doth  oftentimes  leave 
for  a  season  his  own  children  to  manifold 
temptations  and  the  corruption  of  their  own 
hearts,  to  chastise  them  for  their  former  sins, 
or  to  discover  unto  them  the  hidden  strength 
of  corruption  and  deceitfulness  of  their  hearts, 
that  they  may  be  humbled  ;  and  to  raise  them 
to  a  more  close  and  constant  dependence  for 
their  support  upon  himself,  and  to  make 
them  more  watchful  against  all  future  occa- 
sions of  sin,  and  for  sundry  other  just  and 
holy  ends." 

938  "  My  Cup  is  Full."  S.  M. 

Father,  my  cup  is  full ! 

My  trembling  soul  I  raise; 
Oh,  save  me  in  this  solemn  liour, 

Thy  might  and  love  to  praise ! 

2  Father,  my  cup  is  full ! 
But  One  hath  drank  before. 

And  for  our  sins  thy  face  was  hid ; 
The  bitter  draught  ran  o'er. 

3  Father,  my  cup  is  full ! 

But  thou  dost  bid  me  drink : 
I  know  thy  love  the  chalice  mixed, 
But  yet  I  faint — I  shrink. 

4  Alone  he  drank  the  cup, 
The  holy,  sinless  One, 

That  not  one  soul  on  earth  again 
Should  drain  the  dregs  alone. 

5  Father,  forsake  me  not ! 
O  Christ !  I  look  to  thee ; 

And  by  thy  midnight  agony 
Do  thou  remember  me. 

Except  the  bare  fact  that  the  author  of  this 
poem  is  named  "  Anna  Shipton,"  we  know 
nothing  of  her  life.  She  has  published  several 
books  of  poetry  between  the  years  1855  and 
1864,  and  some  of  her  hymns  are  in  general 
use.  The  one  under  consideration  was  first 
printed  in  her  Whispers  in  the  Palms,  Hymns 
and  Meditations,  London,  1855.  We  are  all 
human ;  our  providences  are  the  same ;  our 
needs  are  the  same ;  our  sensibilities  are  also 
the  same.  In  all  our  joys  and  sorrows  we 
are  alike.  One  day  I  saw  a  strong  man  at  the 
door  of  a  burial  vault,  where,  within  marble 
walls  of  surpassing  splendor,  he  was  laying 
all  that  remained  to  him  of  the  wife  of  his 


DISCIPLINE   AND   SORROW. 


545 


youth.  He  shook  like  a  leaf  of  the  aspen 
which  drooped  over  the  railing  beside  him. 
His  heart  was  surcharged  with  impetuous  and 
overmastering  emotion.  Another  day  I  saw 
a  similar  sufferer,  following  on  foot  a  coffin 
to  the  strangers'  corner  in  the  same  cemetery, 
to  lay  his  dead  in  a  monumentless  grave.  For 
aught  I  could  discriminate,  he  shed  the  same 
sort  of  tears  in  the  woeful  abandonment  of 
his  grief,  for  his  heart  had  lost  likewise  all 
there  was  to  be  the  light  of  it.  "  One  touch 
of  nature  makes  the  whole  world  kin."  We 
are  all  constituted  precisely  the  same  in  the 
tastes,  affections,  and  sympathies  which  make 
us  glad  or  sad,  and  fill  us  with  joy  or  mourn- 
ing. 

939  God's  Help  Sure.  S.  M. 

Say  not,  my  soul,  "  From  whence 

Can  God  relieve  my  care?" 
Remember  that  Omnipotence 

Has  servants  everywhere. 

2  God's  help  is  always  sure. 
His  methods  seldom  guessed: 

Delay  will  make  our  pleasure  pure, 
Surprise  will  give  it  zest. 

3  His  wisdom  is  sublime, 
His  heart  profoundly  kind; 

God  never  is  before  his  time, 
And  never  is  behind. 

4  Hast  thou  assumed  a  load 
Which  few  will  share  with  thee — 

And  art  thou  carrying  it  for  God, 
And  shall  he  fail  to  see  ? 

5  Be  comforted  at  heart. 
Thou  art  not  left  alone ; 

Now,  thou  the  Lord's  companion  art ; 
Soon,  thou  wilt  share  his  throne. 

This  is  to  be  found  in  The  Rivulet ;  a  Con- 
tribution to  Sacred  Song,  1855,  a  volume  of 
poems  by  Rev.  Thomas  Toke  Lynch.  The 
hymn  bears  the  title  "  Resignation,"  but  its 
sentiment  is  more  fitly  described  by  calling  it 
"  God's  Help  Sure,"  in  times  of  intense  exer- 
tion and  exposure.  The  recluses  of  an  old 
Franciscan  convent  were  summoned  to  go 
forth  to  minister  to  the  sick  and  dying,  once 
when  the  plague  was  raging  in  the  city.  They 
were  allotted  one  by  one  to  the  duty,  and  went  949 
without  hesitation  or  reserve  to  their  solemn 
task.  When  each  day  was  done,  the  man  re- 
turned to  an  outhouse  within  the  inclosure, 
and  if  he  could,  rang  a  bell  to  show  he  was 
alive.  If  that  tolling  monitor  was  silent  at 
sundown,  then  another  monk  was  despatched 
for  his  relief  if  possible,  at  any  rate  to  con- 
tinue the  work.  They  knew  that  their  com- 
rade had  fallen.  When  the  pestilence  was 
finally  stayed,  it  was  found  that  twenty-four 
unshrinking  men  had  paid  the  penalty  of  their 
devotion.  But  think  of  it,  how  many  lives  of 
men  had  these  lives  saved  ?    In  the  measure 


of  life  for  life,  an  unerring  Eye  struck  the  bal- 
ance. "  Whosoever  shall  seek  to  save  his  life 
shall  lose  it ;  and  whosoever  shall  lose  his  life 
shall  preserve  it."  Here  Christ  means  to 
counsel  fidelity,  and  forbid  fear  and  all  peril- 
ous and  extreme  forms  of  trial.  He  says  : 
Give  your  life  to  me ;  it  is  more  precious  in 
my  sight  than  in  your  own.  I  will  keep  it ; 
you  cannot.  If  you  attempt  to  manage  your 
protection,  you  will  be  more  imperiled  than 
ever.  Do  your  duty  and  leave  the  rest  to  me. 
"  He  that  dwelleth  in  the  secret  place  of  the 
Most  High  shall  abide  under  the  shadow  of 
the  Almighty." 

944  Deut.  33 :  25.  ys- 

Wait,  my  soul,  upon  the  Lord, 

To  his  gracious  promise  flee, 
Laying  hold  upon  his  word, 

"  As  thy  days  thy  strength  shall  be." 

2  If  the  sorrows  of  thy  case 
Seem  peculiar  still  to  thee, 

God  has  promised  tieediul  grace, 
"  As  thy  days  thy  strength  shall  be." 

3  Days  of  trial,  days  of  grief, 
In  succession  thou  mayst  see ; 

This  is  still  thy  sweet  relief, 
"  As  thy  days  thy  strength  shall  be." 

4  Rock  of  Ages,  I  'm  secure, 
With  thy  promise  full  and  free ; 

Faithful,  positive,  and  sure — 
"  As  thy  days  thy  strength  shall  be." 

William  Freeman  Lloyd  was  born  in 
Gloucestershire,  England,  December  22,  1791. 
He  became  greatly  interested  in  Sunday- 
School  work,  and  taught  in  the  classes  both 
at  Oxford  and  London.  In  18 10  he  was 
chosen  one  of  the  secretaries  of  the  Sunday- 
School  Union,  and  for  many  years  he  took  an 
active  part  in  various  kinds  of  literary  work 
connected  with  his  office.  He  died  at  Stanley 
Hall,  Gloucestershire,  April  22,  1853.  A  few 
of  his  hymns  are  in  common  use,  among 
them  the  one  given  here,  which  is  supposed 
to  have  been  written  in  1835.  The  promise 
of  God,  which  here  constitutes  the  refrain,  is 
found  in  Deuteronomy  33  125. 

Consecration.  L.  M. 

Jrsus!  our  best  beloved  Friend, 
On  thv  redeeming  name  we  call ; 

Jesus !  in  love  to  us  descend. 
Pardon  and  sanctify  us  all. 

2  Our  souls  and  bodies  we  resign. 
To  fear  and  follow  thy  commands; 

Oh !  take  our  hearts,  our  hearts  are  thine, 
Accept  the  service  of  our  hands. 

3  Firm,  faithful,  watching  unto  prayer, 
Our  Master's  voice  will  we  obey, 

Toil  in  the  vineyard  here,  and  bear 
The  heat  and  burden  of  the  day. 

4  Yet,  Lord,  for  us  a  resting-place 
In  heaven,  at  thy  right  hand,  prepare; 

And,  till  we  see  thee  mce  to  face, 
Be  all  our  conversation  there. 

35 


546 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


A  hymn  of  "  Personal  dedication  to  Christ," 
written  by  James  Montgomery,  and  published 
in  Coliyer's  Collection,  1812.  The  Christ 
knew  well  what  would  be  best  for  his  disci- 
ples after  he  had  gone  away,  when  he  bade 
them  work  in  the  vineyard.  So  says  one  of 
our  poets,  with  more  truth  than  poetry  : 

"  Labor  :  all  labor  is  worship,  and  holy. 
Let  thy  great  deeds  be  thy  prayers  to  thy  God." 

Work  in  proper  place  is  worship.  God 
promises  joy  to  the  good  and  faithful  servant. 
One  devil  may  tempt  the  worker,  but  a  thou- 
sand swarm  about  the  drone.  "  Good  deeds 
have  no  Sabbath." 

95  I  The  Poor.— Luke  6  :  20.  L.  M. 

Thou  God  of  hope,  to  thee  we  bow  ! 

Thou  art  our  Refuge  in  distress  ; 
-  The  Husband  of  the  widow  thou, 
The  Father  of  the  fatherless. 

2  The  poor  are  thy  peculiar  care ; 
To  them  thy  promises  are  sure: 

Thy  gifts  the  poor  in  spirit  share  ; 
Oh,  may  we  always  thus  be  poor  I 

3  May  we  thy  law  of  love  fulfill, 

To  bear  each  other's  burdens  here, 
Endure  and  do  thy  righteous  will. 
And  walk  in  all  thy  faith  and  fear. 

We  included  this  among  the  Songs  of  the 
Church,  1862  ;  but  in  those  days  almost  no- 
body cared  by  whom  the  hymns  were  made 
that  were  in  the  big  thick  books  they  carried 
to  the  church  and  the  conference-meetings. 
It  is  impossible  to  trace  the  origin  of  this  one 
now.  The  text  referred  to  in  it  is  found  in 
Luke  6 :  20. 

955  Zeal.^John  12:43.  L.  M. 

Go,  labor  on  ;  spend  and  be  spent, 
Thy  joy  to  do  the  Father's  will ; 

It  is  the  way  the  Master  went ; 
Should  not  the  servant  tread  it  still? 

2  Go,  labor  on  ;  't  is  not  for  naught  ; 
Thine  earthly  loss  is  heavenly  gain  ; 

Men  heed  thee,  love  thee,  praise  thee  not ; 
The  Master  praises — wliat  are  men  ? 

3  Go,  labor  on ;  enough,  while  here. 
If  he  shall  praise  thee,  if  he  deign 

Thy  willing  heart  to  mark  and  cheer : 
No  toil  for  him  shall  be  in  vain. 

4  Toil  on,  and  in  thy  toil  rejoice ; 
For  toil  comes  rest,  for  exile  home; 

Soon  Shalt  thou  hear  the  Bridegroom's  voice. 
The  midnight  peal  :  "  Behold,  I  come !  " 

"  Written  in  1843,  and  printed  at  Kelso  in 
a  small  booklet  of  three  or  four  hymns,"  is 
Dr.  Horatius  Bonar's  statement  as  to  the 
poem  we  quote.  In  the  same  year  it  was 
included  in  his  Songs  for  the  Wilderness, 
with  the  title  "  Labor  for  Christ,"  and  later 
it  appeared  in  his  Hymns  of  Faith  and 
Hope,  as   "  The   Useful  Life."     It  has  been 


much  altered  and  divided  to  suit  the  tastes 
of  various  compilers. 

Outside  work  is  the  best  relief  for  dyspep- 
tic carping.  But  there  is  no  comfort  in  work 
where  there  is  not  love  as  the  motive  of  it. 
God  loved  the  world  ;  Christ  loved  the  souls 
he  died  to  redeem  ;  Christians  are  moved  by 
love  for  those  around  them  ;  or  else  the  work 
is  drudgery,  and  can  never  claim  blessing. 
What  will  not  love  do  and  dare  ?  With 
no  more  than  filial  strength,  it  sent  Corio- 
lanus  back  from  treason  at  the  gates,  and  de- 
livered Rome  from  downfall.  Once  having 
place  in  the  heart  of  a  Christian,  it  rouses 
him  to  energy  almost  superhuman.  "  I 
would  think  it  greater  happiness,"  said 
Matthew  Henry,  "  to  gain  one  soul  to  Christ, 
than  mountains  of  gold  and  silver  to  my- 
self ;  if  I  do  not  gain  souls,  I  shall  enjoy  all 
other  gains  with  very  little  satisfaction  ;  and  I 
would  rather  beg  my  bread  from  door  to  door 
than  neglect  this  great  work." 

96 1  Contributions.  S.  M. 

Thy  bounties,  gracious  Lord  ! 

With  gratitude  we  own  ; 
We  bless  thy  providential  grace, 

Which  showers  its  blessings  down. 

2  With  joy  the  people  bring 
Their  offerings  round  thy  throne  ; 

With  thankful  souls,  behold  !  we  pay 
A  tribute  of  thine  own. 

3  Let  a  Redeemer's  blood 
Diffuse  its  virtues  wide  : 

Hallow  and  cleanse  our  every  gift, 
And  all  our  follies  hide. 

4  Oh  !  may  this  sacrifice 

To  thee,  the  Lord,  ascend. 
An  odor  of  a  sweet  perfume, 
Presented  by  his  hand. 

This  hymn  is  to  be  found  in  Dobell's 
New  Selection,  1806.  It  was  written  by 
Miss  Elizabeth  Scott,  an  American  lady,  who 
afterward  married  Mr.  Elisha  Williams. 

Charity  not  only  of  the  hand,  but,  more  im- 
portant, of  the  heart,  is  what  we  are  called 
to  practise  if  we  would  be  worthy  followers 
of  the  Master.  Five  thousand  church-mem- 
bers in  Jamaica  gave,  twelve  or  fifteen  years 
ago.  $35,000  to  Christian  work  ;  these  were 
emancipated  slaves  and  their  children.  Re- 
cently the  indigent  converts  in  Marash  sold 
the  copper  dishes  from  which  they  ate  to 
help  build  a  church  edifice.  The  explana- 
tion of  such  manifest  wonders  is  found  in  the 
fact  that  the  hearts  were  alive  with  interest, 
and  then  the  people  had  a  mind  to  work.  It 
is  all  well  to  teach  our  children  that  there  is 
great  value  in  the  cup  of  cold  water  given  to 
a  poor  disciple  in  the  name  of  Christ;  but 
they  are  far  more  likely  to  give  it  if  they  do  not 


ACTIVITY    AND    ZEAL. 


547 


imagine  it  will  be  more  welcome  when  dripped 
off  the  end  of  an  icicle. 

964  Just  a  IVord.  L.  M. 

Lord,  speak  to  me,  that  I  may  speak 

In  living  echoes  of  thy  tone; 
As  thou  liast  sought,  so  let  me  seek 

Thy  erring  children  lost  and  lone. 

2  Oh,  lead  me,  Lord,  that  I  may  lead 
The  wandering  and  the  wavering  feet ; 

Oh,  feed  me.  Lord,  that  I  may  feed 
Thy  hungering  ones  with  manna  sweet. 

3  Oh,  strengthen  me,  that,  while  I  stand 
Firm  on  the  rock,  and  strong  in  thee, 

I  may  stretch  out  a  loving  hand 
To  wrestlers  with  the  troubled  sea. 

4  Oh,  teach  me,  Lord,  that  I  may  teach 
The  precious  things  thou  dost  impart : 

And  wnigmy  words,  that  they  may  reach 
The  hidden  depths  of  many  a  heart. 

5  Oh,  give  thine  own  sweet  rest  to  me, 
That  I  may  speak  with  soothing  power 

A  word  in  season,  as  from  thee, 
To  weary  ones  in  needful  hour. 

6  Oh,  use  me.  Lord,  use  even  me. 

Just  as  thou  wilt,  and  when,  and  where, 
Until  thy  blessfid  face  I  see. 
Thy  rest,  thy  joy,  thy  glory  share. 

In  the  original  manuscript  of  the  author. 
Miss  Frances  Ridley  Havergal,  this  hymn  is 
entitled,  "  A  Worker's  Prayer."  It  was  writ- 
ten at  Winterdyne,  April  28,  1872,  and  was 
printed  that  same  year  in  a  musical  leaflet. 
It  was  also  published  in  Under  the  Surface, 
1874.  The  best  comment  upon  this  woman's 
hymn  is  found  in  what  another  woman  says 
in  one  of  the  public  journals  concerning  the 
dignity  of  lowly  duties.  "  Women  are  par- 
ticularly inclined  to  look  at  the  struggle  for 
subsistence  as  something  that  ought  not  to 
be ;  they  feel  that  there  is  no  real  worth  in  it, 
and  so  there  can  be  no  beauty  or  dignity. 
Those  teachers  who  have  assumed  that  this 
life,  rich  as  it  is  in  promise,  and  full  of  possi- 
bilities for  the  great  soul,  is  of  no  worth  and 
value  in  itself ;  that  the  lesson  to  be  early 
learned  and  to  be  acted  upon  always  is  that 
we  are  merely  pilgrims  who  lodge  here  for  a 
night  in  order  that  we  may  go  on  the  next 
day — these  teachers  have  done  more  to  nar- 
row and  restrict  woman  in  the  exercise  of  her 
best  powers  than  all  the  petty  tyranny  of 
which  the  avowed  woman's  rights  women  de- 
claim. I  have  often  thought  that  if  I  had 
time  to  be  a  woman  with  a  mission,  I  would 
take  the  wide  world  for  my  field,  and  go  up 
and  down  helping  to  convince  the  tired 
woman,  who  lies  down  in  her  bed  at  night 
with  the  profound  consciousness  that  another 
day  has  been  frittered  away  in  doing  things 
without  relation  to  eternal  affairs,  but  which 


for  the  comfort  and  well-being  of  her  family 
were  required,  that  in  her  being  the  patient 
mother  of  her  children,  and  the  good  house- 
wife, she  has  done  that  which  for  her  is  the 
best  thing  to  do.  If  this  could  be  done,  we 
should  not  so  often  hear  women,  whose  work 
is  that  of  doing  the  near  duties  which  are  so 
plainly  theirs  that  unless  willfully  blind  they 
cannot  overlook  them,  say,  '  Oh,  if  I  could 
only  do  something  that  amounts  to  some- 
thing !'  One  who  can  help  us  to  see  that  this 
doing  the  work,  simple  and  common  though 
it  appear,  which  really  lies  at  the  root  of  all 
things,  and  without  which  life  is  impossible, 
and  who  shall  at  the  same  time  teach  us  to 
simplify  our  task  so  that  while  living  we  may 
also  live  nobly,  will  be  a  great  benefactor  to 
the  race.  Then  shall  we  see  calm-browed 
women  performing  lowly  duties  with  satisfac- 
tion instead  of  unhappiness." 

965  "  Thy  Kingdom  Come."  7s,  6s. 

Lord  of  the  living  harvest 

That  whitens  o'er  the  plain. 
Where  angels  soon  shall  gather 

Their  sheaves  of  golden  grain — 

2  Accept  these  hands  to  labor, 
These  hearts  to  trust  and  love, 

And  dei^n  with  them  to  hasten 
Thy  kingdom  from  above. 

3  As  laborers  in  thy  vineyard 
Send  us  out,  Christ,  to  be 

Content  to  bear  the  burden 
Of  weary  days  for  thee. 

4  We  ask  no  other  wages. 
When  thou  shall  call  us  home, 

But  to  have  shared  the  travail 
Which  makes  thy  kingdom  come. 

This  was  written  by  Dr.  John  S.  B.  Mon- 
sell  to  be  used  for  Ordinations  :  but  in  an 
altered  form  it  has  been  given  in  many  collec- 
tions as  a  song  for  Chtirch  Guilds  and  Asso- 
ciations. It  was  published  first  in  the  second 
edition  of  the  author's  Hymns  of  Lai'e  and 
Praise,  1866.  It  exhibits  the  true  delight  of 
Christian  zeal  as  being  found  in  working  with 
Christ  for  the  coming  of  his  kingdom.  He 
worked  for  love  and  not  for  wages  ;  so  are  we 
to  work.  And  to  have  success  we  must 
cherish  a  passionate  longing  for  souls.  In 
order  to  do  good  to  others  we  must  come 
into  personal  contact  with  them.  It  was 
never  expected  that  Christians  would  hand 
bread  to  each  other  as  Jonathan  ate  honey 
off  the  end  of  his  staff.  Love  seems  actually 
inexhaustible,  while  other  graces  change. 
This  is  the  reason  why  the  apostle  commends 
it  the  most :  "  Charity  never  faileth  ;  but 
whether  there  be  prophecies,  they  shall  fail ; 
whether  there  be  tongues,  they  shall  cease ; 


CHRISTIAN   EXPERIENCE. 


548 

whether  there  be  knowledge,  it  shall  vanish 
away."  Instances  have  been  known  in  which 
this  passionate  love  for  souls  has  worn  out 
the  strength  of  the  heart  in  which  it  dwelt, 
without  seeming  to  lessen  in  its  volume. 
Some  of  us  whose  early  home  was  among  the 
forests  remember  how  the  choppers  used  to 
take  coals  out  of  one  brush-heap  to  light  an- 
other ;  they  would  place  them  all  alive  upon 
a  thick  wisp  of  straw  and  then  rush  through 
the  air  with  the  smoke  and  flame  streaming 
behind  them ;  but  the  straw  would  burn  as 
they  ran,  and,  when  the  coals  dropped  on  the 
rubbish,  would  burst  into  a  flash  and  con- 
sume itself  with  its  burden.  That  was  Mont- 
gomery's figure  by  which  he  sought  to  de- 
scribe Summerfield ;  he  said  he  carried  the 
blaze  which  kindled  others  and  that  burned 
himself  to  ashes.  His  charity  never  failed  till 
himself  vanished  away. 


966 


The  Laborers  are  Few." 


8s,  7S.  D. 


Hark  !  the  voice  of  Jesus  calling— 

Who  will  go  and  work  to-day? 
Fields  are  white,  the  harvest  waiting. 

Who  will  bear  the  sheaves  away? 
Loud  and  long  the  Master  calleth, 

Rich  reward  he  offers  free  ; 
Who  will  answer,  gladly  saying, 

"  Here  am  I,  O  Lord,  send  me." 

2  If  you  cannot  cross  the  ocean 

And  the  heathen  lands  explore, 
You  can  find  the  heathen  nearer. 

You  can  help  then  at  your  door ; 
If  you  cannot  speak  like  angels. 

If  you  cannot  preach  like  Paul, 
You  can  tell  the  love  of  Jesus, 

You  can  say  he  died  for  all. 

2  While  the  souls  of  men  are  dying 

And  the  Master  calls  for  you. 
Let  none  hear  you  idly  saying, 

"There  is  nothing  I  can  do!" 
Gladly  take  the  task  he  gives  you. 

Let  his  work  your  pleasure  be ; 
Answer  quickly  when  he  calleth, 

"  Here  am  I,'0  Lord,  send  me  !" 

Rev.  Daniel  March,  D.  D.,  was  born  in 
Millbury,  Mass.,  July  21,  18 16,  and  grad- 
uated at  Yale  College  in  1 840.  He  studied 
theology,  and  was  ordained  in  1845.  Since 
that  date  he  has  been  settled  over  several 
Presbyterian  and  Congregational  churches ; 
his  present  home  being  in  Woburn,  Mass.  He 
has  published  several  works  of  a  religious 
character,  but  in  hymnology  he  is  only  known 
by  the  piece  given  here.  Its  historj'  is  as 
follows  :  "  In  1868  Dr.  March  was  a  pastor 
in  Philadelphia,  and  on  October  18  he  was  to 
preach  to  the  Christian  Association.  At  a  late 
hour  he  found  that  one  of  the  hymns  selected 
was  not  suitable.  His  text  was,  '  Here  am  I ; 
send  me.'  In  great  haste  he  WTOte  the 
hymn,  and  it  was  sung  from  manuscript."  It 
was  first  published  in  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Hymnal,  1878. 


967  "  U^hat  Thy  Hand  Findeth."  8s,  75.  D. 

If  you  cannot  on  the  ocean 

Sail  among  the  swiftest  fleet. 
Rocking  on  the  highest  billows, 

Laughing  at  the  storms  you  meet. 
You  can  stand  among  the  sailors 

Anchored  yet  within  the  bay, 
You  can  lend  a  hand  to  help  them 

As  they  launch  their  boat  away. 

2  If  you  are  too  weak  to  journey 
Up  the  mountain  steep  and  high, 

You  can  stand  within  the  valley 

While  the  multitude  go  by  : 
You  can  chant  in  happy  measure 

As  they  slowly  pass  along  : 
Though  they  may  forget  the  singer. 

They  will  not  forget  the  song. 

3  If  you  have  not  gold  and  silver 
Ever  ready  to  command  : 

If  you  cannot  toward  the  needy 

Reach  an  ever-open  hand, 
You  can  visit  the  afflicted, 

O'er  the  erring  you  can  weep  ; 
•  You  can  be  a  true  disciple 

Sitting  at  the  Saviour's  feet. 

4  If  you  cannot  in  the  har\'est 
Garner  up  the  richest  sheaf, 

Many  a  grain  both  ripe  and  golden 
Will  the  careless  reapers  leave : 

Go  and  glean  among  the  briers 
Growing  rank  against  the  wall, 

For  it  may  be  that  the  shadow 
Hides  the  heaviest  wheat  of  all. 

This  hymn  was  at  first  published  anony- 
mously, and  came  into  popular  notice  by  rea- 
son of  the  admiration  felt  for  it  by  President 
Lincoln.  It  has  been  ascertained  that  it  is 
the  work  of  Mrs.  Ellen  Huntington  Gates, 
who  resides  in  Elizabeth,  N.  J.  She  is  the 
author  of  several  popular  pieces  which  have 
been  printed  in  Sunday-school  hymn-books 
and  used  in  revivals.  Her  own  account  of 
the  origin  of  this  poem  is  as  follows :  "  The 
lines  were  written  upon  my  slate  one  snowy 
afternoon  in  the  winter  of  i860.  I  knew,  as 
I  know  now,  that  the  poem  was  only  a  simple 
little  thing ;  but  somehow  I  had  a  presenti- 
ment that  it  had  wings  and  would  fly  into 
sorrowful  hearts,  uplifting  and  strengthening 
them." 

968  ^'''^  ■^'''"'  ''■^  Love.  S.  M. 

Oh  !  praise  our  God  to-day, 

His  constant  niercv  bless, 
Whose  love  hath  helped  us  on  our  way 

And  granted  us  success. 

2  His  arm  the  strength  imparts 
Our  daily  toil  to  bear  ; 

His  grace  alone  inspires  our  hearts 
Each  other's  load  to  share. 

3  Oh !  happiest  work  below, 
Earnest  of  joy  above. 

To  sweeten  many  a  cup  of  woe 
By  deeds  of  holy  love. 

4  Lord  !  may  it  be  our  choice 
This  blessed  rule  to  keep, 

"  Rejoice  with  them  that  do  rejoice. 
And  weep  with  them  that  weep." 


ACTIVITY   AND  ZEAL. 


549 


5  God  of  the  widow,  hear ! 

Our  work  of  mercy  bless; 
God  of  the  fatherless,  be  near, 

And  grant  us  good  success ! 

We  took  this  hymn,  written  in  1861  by  Sir 
Henry  Williams  Baker,  from  the  edition  of 
Hymns,  Ancient  and  Modertt,  published  in 
the  same  year.  It  is  admirably  adapted  to  be 
sung  by  those  "  Friendly  Societies  "  for  whose 
use  it  was  composed. 

Sometimes  you  notice  on  the  corner  of  the 
street  a  fine  edifice  springing  up.  You  are 
told  it  is  a  new  church  coming  into  being. 
Once  a  pastor  was  asked,  as  he  stood  un- 
recognized upon  the  walls,  "  When  will  this 
building  be  completed  ?"  He  easily  gave  the 
time.  "  Will  the  congregation  be  in  debt .''" 
continued  the  stranger.  "  Oh,  yes,  awfully," 
answered  the  thoughtful  man  ;  "sometimes  it 
frightens  me  to  think  of  it."  Then  came  the 
question :  "  Why  did  you  begin,  when  you 
had  not  the  money  ?"  Then  the  minister  of 
God  answered  :  "  Oh,  we  have  money  enough  ; 
we  shall  have  no  such  debt  as  that ;  but  think, 
think  how  much  a  church  like  this  is  going  to 
owe  the  community  and  the  world  /  How 
they  will  look  to  us  for  man's  love  and  God's 
grace !" 

97  i  "  I  am  with  Vou."  83,75. 

All  unseen  the  Master  walketh 

By  the  toihng  servant's  side ; 
Comfortable  words  he  speaketh, 

While  his  hands  uphold  and  guide. 

2  Grief,  nor  pain,  nor  any  sorrow 
Rends  thy  heart  to  him  unknown  ; 

He  to-day,  and  he  to-morrow, 
Grace  sufficient  gives  his  own. 

3  Holy  strivings  nerve  and  strengthen, 
Long  endurance  wins  the  crown  ; 

When  the  evening  shadows  lengthen. 
Thou  Shalt  lay  thy  burden  down. 

This  hymn  is  found  in  Thomas  MacKel- 
lar's  Lines  for  the  Gentle  and  Loving,  1853. 
There  it  begins,  "  Bear  the  burden  of  the 
present,"  and  is  entitled  "  Resignation."  It 
is  a  picture  of  his  long  and  active  life,  full  of 
trouble  and  full  of  peace.  "  He  had  much  of 
the  support  of  the  family  (his  father's)  on  his 
shoulders  and  little  relaxation."  It  seemed 
at  one  time  that  there  might  come  in  among 
them  a  large  inheritance.  But  the  young  man 
did  not  allow  his  attention  to  be  diverted  by 
any  will-o'-the-wisp.  It  is  related  that  a 
Quaker  lawyer  once  said  to  him  what  shaped 
his  self-reliant  and  indefatigable  career : 
"  Thomas,  I  hear  thee  is  an  industrious  lad. 
Stick  to  work,  and  thee  will  make  a  fortune 
before  thee  will  get  this  one."  He  is  now 
over  fourscore  years  old,  and  is  still  at  the 
head  of  a  great  and  lucrative  business.     His 


neighbors  respect  him,  and  the  Lord  looks 
kindly,  and  his  age  is  not  saddened  as  he 
walks  in  the  path  where  "  all  unseen  the  Mas- 
ter walketh."  One  of  the  latest  confidences 
with  the  public  closes  with  these  comfortable 
words:  "I  was  married  in  1834,  and  have 
had  ten  children,  all  good  and  God-loving. 
My  wife  died  fourteen  years  ago.  Five  of 
our  children  are  with  her  in  Paradise — hav- 
ing done  good  work  here  to  God's  glory — and 
five  are  with  me  on  earth,  still  witnessing  for 
Christ." 

975  The  Grace  of  Giving.  ^s,  5s. 

Thine  are  all  the  gifts,  O  God  ! 

Thine  the  broken  bread ; 
Let  the  naked  feet  be  shod, 

And  the  starving  fed. 

2  Let  thy  children,  by  thy  grace. 
Give  as  they  abound, 

Till  the  poor  have  breathing-space, 
And  the  lost  are  found. 

3  Wiser  than  the  miser's  hoards 
Is  the  giver's  choice  ; 

Sweeter  than  the  song  of  birds 
Is  the  thankful  voice. 

4  Welcome  smiles  on  faces  sad 
As  the  flowers  of  spring ; 

Let  the  tender  hearts  be  glad 
With  the  joy  they  bring. 

The  Quaker  poet,  John  Greenleaf  Whittier, 
wrote  the  hymn  before  us  for  the  Anniversary 
of  the  Children's  Mission,  Boston,  1878,  and 
it  was  afterwards  included  in  Horder's  Con- 
gregational Hymns,  1884. 

Martin  Luther  and  his  brother  reformers 
were  out  on  a  ride  one  day,  and  all,  as  was 
their  custom,  gave  alms  to  the  poor.  "  Who 
knows,"  said  one  of  the  number,  "  in  what 
way  God  will  return  and  increase  these  pieces 
of  money  to  me  ?"  Luther  turned  quickly  at 
the  speech :  "  Just  as  if  God  had  not  given 
them  to  you  in  the  beginning  !"  said  he  ;  "  we 
must  give  freely  out  of  pure  love,  and  cheer- 
fully." Then  he  quoted  the  old  verse  of 
Scripture :  "  Do  good,  and  lend,  hoping  for 
nothing  again."  No  doubt,  disinterested 
benevolence  is  the  true  rule,  but  it  is  rare  of 
reach  at  the  present  day.  And  if  there  be 
those  who  will  stand  on  this  lower  plane  of 
a  permitted  cupidity,  there  on  that  plane  the 
word  of  inspiration  meets  them,  and  declares 
that  there  does  not  live  on  this  terrestrial 
ball  a  Croesus  so  rich  that  he  can  afford  to  be 
stingy.  A  man  who  holds  back  his  contribu- 
tions will  grow  mean  and  hard,  and  when  the 
stress  comes  will  discover  that  he  has  lost 
more  than  he  imagined  he  had  been  saving, 
together  with  the  peace  of  conscience  he 
needs. 


550 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


976 


A  Veteran's  Prayer.  C.  M.  61. 

Dismiss  me  not  thy  service,  Lord, 

But  train  me  for  thy  will ; 
For  even  I,  in  fields  so  broad, 

Some  duties  may  fulfill ; 
And  I  will  ask  for  no  reward. 

Except  to  serve  thee  still. 

2  How  many  serve,  how  many  more 
May  to  the  service  come  ! 

To  tend  the  vines,  the  grapes  to  store, 

Thou  dost  appoint  for  some ; 
Thou  hast  thy  young  men  at  the  war, 

Thy  little  ones  at  home. 

3  All  works  are  good,  and  each  is  best 
As  most  it  pleases  thee  ; 

Each  worker  pleases  when  the  rest 

He  serves  in  charity ; 
And  neither  man  nor  work  unblest 

Wilt  thou  permit  to  be. 

4  Our  Master  all  the  work  hath  done 
He  asks  of  us  to-day  ; 

Sharing  his  sen'ice,  ever>'  one 

Share  too  his  sonship  may  ; 
Lord,  I  would  serve  and  be  a  son  : 

Dismiss  me  not,  I  pray. 


REV.   THOS.   T.    LVNCH. 


This  hymn  originally  appeared  in  a  book 
called  the  Rivulet  a  collection  of  hymns  by 
Rev.  Thomas  Toke  Lynch,  which  he  pub- 
lished for  use  in  his  own  congregation  as  a 
supplement  to  IVatts,  and  which  created  a 
bitter  hymnological  controversy.  His  writ- 
ings have  since  been  proved  to  be  valuable 
contributions  to  sacred  song ;  they  are  marked 
by  intensity  of  feeling,  picturesqueness,  grace, 
and  the  sadness  caused  by  the  struggle  of  a 
powerful  soul  with  a  body  which  is  weak  and 
suffering.  When  John  Wesley  was  eighty- 
eight  years  old  he  still  went  around  preach- 
ing :  and  it  was  noted  that  he  almost  always 
prayed,  "  Lord,  let  me  not  live  to  be  useless." 

There  is  a  great  deal  of  aspiration  towards 
the  peace  and  blessedness  of  heaven  which 
ought  not  to  be  interpreted  too  literally.  The 
squire  of  an  English  hamlet  had  just  bestowed 
an  alms  upon  the  village  mendicant.  "  May 
the  Lord  give  your  soul  a  place  in  heaven  !" 
exclaimed  the  grateful  beggar.     "  Thank  ye, 


Thomas,  thank  ye,"  said  the  squire.  Encour- 
aged by  this  appreciation,  the  beggar  went  on 
fervently,  "  May  he  give  it  a  place  in  heaven — 
ay,  this  very  night."  "  Hold  I  Thomas,"  said 
the  alarmed  squire ;  "  you  need  n't  have  been 
so  particular  to  name  the  date."  When  a 
whole  Christian  congregation,  in  doleful  har- 
mony, expresses  its  unanimous  desire  to  lay 
"  this  aching  head  "  and  "  wear)^  breast  " 
"  low  in  the  ground."  it  may  be  safely  assumed 
that  the  assembly  has  no  such  unanimous  de- 
sire to  name  the  date — at  least,  not  an  early 
date. 

977  Chief  End  of  Man.  L.  M. 

Thou  Maker  of  our  mortal  frame — 

Of  all  thy  works  the  noblest  far, 
We  bow  before  thy  righteous  claim 

To  all  we  have,  and  all  we  are. 

2  Our  tongues  were  fashioned  for  thy  word. 
Our  hands — to  do  thy  will  divine; 

Our  bodies  are  thy  temple,  Lord, 
The  mind's  immortal  powers  are  thine. 

3  Its  highest  thought — to  trace  thy  skill. 
Its  purest  love  on  thee  to  rest. 

Its  noblest  action  of  the  will. 
To  choose  thy  ser\ice,  and  be  blest. 

4  Our  ransomed  spirits  rise  to  thee — 
Unfailing  source  of  light  and  joy  ! 

Thy  love  has  made  thy  children  free. 
Thy  praise  shall  life  and  strength  employ. 

5  Give  grace  and  mercy  to  the  end — 
For  we  are  thine  and  not  our  own : 

So  shall  we  to  thy  courts  ascend. 

And  cast  our  crowns  before  thy  throne. 

Under  the  signature  "A.  R.  W."  Rev.  Aaron 
Robarts  Wolfe  contributed  seven  hymns  to 
Dr.  Hastings'  Church  Melodies,  1858,  among 
which  was  the  one  now  before  us.  The  title 
affixed  to  it,  "  Chief  End  of  Man,"  comes 
from  the  old  Westminster  Catechism  •  "  Man's 
chief  end  is  to  glorify  God  and  enjoy  him  for 
ever."  We  belong  to  God  as  his  creatures  ; 
he  made  us,  he  has  provided  for  us,  he  has 
redeemed  us.  Thus  he  has  a  "  righteous 
claim  to  all  we  have  and  all  we  are,"  as  the 
hymn  acknowledges.  Then,  if  we  are  genu- 
inely loyal  and  true,  he  gives  us  "  crowns  "  to 
cast  before  his  throne. 


981 


Public  Acknowledgement. 


IIS,  5s. 


Praise  ye  the  Father,  for  his  loving  kindness. 
Tenderly  cares  he  for  his  loving  children  ; 
Praise  him,  ye  angels,  praise  him  in  the  heavens. 
Praise  ye  Jehovah  ! 

2  Praise  ye  the  Saviour  !  great  is  his  compassion. 
Graciously  cares  he  for  his  chosen  people ; 
Young  men  and  maidens,  ye  old  men  and  children. 

Praise  ye  the  Saviour  ! 

3  Praise  ye  the  Spirit !  Comforter  of  Israel, 
Sent  of  the  Father  and  the  Son  to  bless  us; 
Praise  ye  the  Father,  Son  and  Holy  Spirit, 

Praise  ye  the  Triune  God. 


ORGANIZATION   AND   INSTITUTIONS. 


551 


This  song  of  praise,  rhymeless  and  brief,  is 
yet  full  of  tenderness  and  dignity,  as  a  hymn 
of  adoring  worship  to  the  Persons  of  the  Tri- 
une Godhead.  It  would  be  excellent  as  an 
anthem  for  National  Thanksgiving.  It  was 
composed  by  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Charles,  the  gift- 
ed author  of  the  '' Schonbcrg-Cotta  "  stories. 
We  found  it  upon  a  slip  printed  for  an  anni- 
versary, and  copied  it. 

982  Public  Imploration.  lis,  5s. 

O  (iRACious  Jesus,  hear  our  humble  crying; 
Haste  to  our  help,  in  all  thy  grace  replying 
To  us,  who,  laden  with  our  sins,  implore  thee. 
Falling  before  thee. 

2  O  thou,  whose  mercy  to  our  prayer  descendeth. 
And  to  the  contrite  consolation  sendeth, 
Thy  comfort  give ;  accept  our  supplication, 

Lord,  our  salvation. 

3  Our  need  thou  knowest ;  Lord,  descend,  supplying 
Our  wants,  who  live  on  thy  sure  word  relying. 
Lord  Jesus,  spare  us  ;  to  our  hearts  be  given 

Thy  peace  from  heaven. 

Another  of  Rev.  Arthur  Tozer  Russell's 
compositions,  taken  from  his  Psalms  and 
Hymns,  partly  original,  partly  selected,  for 
the  use  of  the  Church  of  England,  1851. 
Its  avowed  purpose  is  to  be  used  on  the  oc- 
casion of  a  public  fast  or  a  day  of  general 
penitential  prayer. 

987  Corner-stone.  L.  M.  D. 

'         O  Lord  of  hosts,  whose  glory  fills 
The  bounds  of  the  eternal  hills. 
And  yet  vouchsafes,  in  Christian  lands, 
To  dwell  in  temples  made  by  hands  ! 
Grant  that  all  we,  who  here  to-day 
Rejoicing  this  foundation  lay. 
May  be  in  very  deed  thine  own, 
Built  on  the  precious  Corner-stone. 

2  Endue  the  creatures  with  thy  grace. 
That  shall  adorn  thy  dwelling-place  ; 
The  beauty  of  the  oak  and  pine. 
The  gold  and  silver,  make  them  thine. 
To  thee  they  all  belong ;  to  thee 
The  treasures  of  the  earth  and  sea  ; 
And,  when  we  bring  them  to  thy  throne. 
We  but  present  thee  with  thine  own. 

3  The  heads  that  guide  endue  with  skill, 
The  hands  that  work  preserve  from  ill. 
That  we,  who  these  foundations  lay. 
May  raise  the  topstone  in  its  day. 
But  now  and  ever,  Lord,  protect 
The  temple  of  thine  own  elect  ; 
Be  thou  in  them,  and  they  in  thee, 
O  ever-bless6d  Trinity ! 

An  appropriate  hymn  for  Corner-Stone 
ceremonies  written  by  Dr.  John  M.  Neale.  It 
appeared  in  his  Hymns  for  the  Young,  1 844, 
with  the  title,  "  Laying  the  First  Stone  of  a 
Church."  The  passage  of  Scripture  sug- 
gested is  Isaiah  28  :  16,  or  Ephesians  2  :  20. 


988  Dedication.— Ezek.  i  :  26. 

Come,  Jesus,  from  the  sapphire  throne. 
Where  thy  redeemed  behold  thy  face, 

Enter  this  temple,  now  thine  own. 
And  let  thy  glory  fill  the  place. 


We  praise  thee  that  to-day  we  see 
Its  sacred  walls  before  thee  stand  ! 

'T  is  thine  for  us — 't  is  ours  for  thee; 
Reared  by  thy  kind  assisting  hand. 

2  Oft  as  returns  the  day  of  rest. 
Let  heartfelt  worship  here  ascend;  • 

With  thine  own  joy  fill  every  breast, 
With  thine  own  power  thy  word  attend. 

Here,  in  the  dark  and  sorrowing  day, 
Bid  thou  the  throbbing  heart  l)e  still ; 

Oh,  wipe  the  mourner's  tears  away. 
And  give  new  strength  to  meet  thy  will. 

3  When  round  this  board  thine  own  shall  meet, 
And  keep  the  feast  of  dying  love. 

Be  our  communion  ever  sweet, 
With  thee,  and  with  thy  Church  above. 

Come,  faithful  Shepherd,  feed  thy  sheep  ; 
In  thine  own  arms  the  lambs  enfold  ; 

Give  help  to  climb  the  heavenward  steep. 
Till  thy  full  glory  we  behold. 

We  copy  this  from  the  Christian  Intelli- 
gencer, in  which  it  seems  to  have  been  first 
given  to  the  public.  The  hymn  was  written 
by  Rev.  Ray  Palmer,  D.  D.,  for  the  dedica- 
tion of  the  Belleville  Avenue  Congregational 
Church  in  Newark,  N.  J.,  and  was  sung  on 
that  occasion,  March  31,  1875.  The  Scrip- 
ture reference  is  to  Ezekiel  i  :  26  :  "  And 
above  the  firmament  that  was  over  their  heads 
was  the  likeness  of  a  throne,  as  the  appear- 
ance of  a  sapphire  stone ;  and  upon  the  like- 
ness of  the  throne  w-as  the  likeness  as  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  man  above  upon  it. 

1017  Soldiers  of  Christ.  L.  M.  D. 

Arm  these  thy  soldiers,  mighty  Lord, 
With  shield  of  faith  and  Spirit's  sword  ; 
Forth  to  the  battle  may  they  go 
And  boldly  fight  against  the  foe 
With  banner  of  the  cross  unfurled, 
And  by  it  overcome  the  w-orld  ;  v 

And  so  at  last  receive  from  thee 
The  palm  and  crown  of  victory. 

2  Come,  ever-blessed  Spirit,  come. 
And  make  thy  servants'  hearts  thy  home ; 
May  each  a  living  temple  be 
Hallowed  for  ever.  Lord,  to  thee; 
Enrich  that  temple's  holy  shrine 
With  sevenfold  gifts  of  grace  divine. 
With  wisdom,  light,  ana  knowledge  bless. 
Strength,  counsel,  fear,  and  godliness. 

In  1862  Bishop  Christopher  Wordsworth 
published  in  his  Holy  Year  a  Confirmation 
hymn,  beginning  "  Father  of  all,  in  whom  we 
live."  This  was  divided  into  three  parts,  with 
directions  as  to  the  use  of  each  portion. 
The  second  division  began  with  the  words, 
"  O  God,  in  whose  all-searching  eye,"  and 
it  is  from  this  that  the  poem  we  quote  is 
taken.  It  is  a  martial  lyric,  and  might  be 
made  to  do  valiant  service  at  our  Communion 
seasons  when  a  multitude  of  young  converts 
are  ranged  before  the  pulpit  for  public  con- 
L. M. D.  fession  of  faith.  The  word  "sacrament" 
comes  almost  unchanged  from  the  Latin 
language.  It  is  the  "  sacramcntum,"  or 
the  military  oath  of  loyalty  and  steadfastness 


552 


THE  CHURCH   OF   GOD. 


which  each  Roman  soldier  took  on  the  eve 
of  battle,  when  life  with  all  its  vast  exposures 
and  issues  was  put  into  solemn  pledge. 

1 0 1 8  The  Symbolic  Sign.  S.  M. 

Stand,  soldier  of  the  cross, 

Thy  high  allegiance  claim, 
And  vow  to  hold  the  world  but  loss 

For  thy  Redeemer's  name. 

2  Arise,  and  be  baptized, 
And  wash  thy  sins  away ; 

Thy  league  with  God  be  solemnized, 
Thy  faith  avouched  to-day. 

3  No  more  thine  own,  but  Christ's  ; 
With  all  the  saints  of  old, 

Apostles,  seers,  evangelists. 
And  martyr-throngs  enrolled. 


DR.  E.  H.  BICKERSTETH. 

Bishop  Edward  H.  Bickersteth  wrote  this 
poem  for  the  first  edition  of  his  Hymnal 
Companion,  1870,  where  it  had  six  stanzas 
of  four  lines  each.  It  was  slightly  altered, 
however,  by  the  author,  when,  in  1871,  it 
was  included  in  the  Chttrch  Hymns  of  the 
Society  for  Promoting  Christian  Knowledge. 
The  portrait  we  add  was  taken  much  more 
recently  than  the  one  given  before.  It  shows 
the  good  man  has  advanced  in  years  as  well 
as  in  honors. 


1 025  ' '  Happy  Day. '  '—Psa.  56 : 1 2. 

Oh,  happy  day  that  fixed  my  choice 
On  thee,  my  Saviour  and  my  God; 

Well  may  this  glowing  heart  rejoice, 
And  tell  its  raptures  all  abroad. 

2  Oh,  happy  bond,  that  seals  my  vows 
To  him  who  merits  all  m^  love  ! 

Let  cheerful  anthems  fill  his  house, 
While  to  that  sacred  shrine  I  move. 

3  Now  rest,  my  long-divided  heart ! 
Fixed  on  this  blissful  center,  rest ; 

Here  have  I  found  a  nobler  part, 
Here  heavenly  pleasures  nil  my  breast. 


P.M. 


This  hymn  of  Dr.  Philip  Doddridge  will  be 
found  annotated  on  page  496. 

1 05  I  Parting  in  Love.  S.  M. 

Blest  be  thy  love,  dear  Lord, 
That  taught  us  this  sweet  way. 

Only  to  love  thee  for  thyself, 
And  for  that  love  obey. 

2  O  thou,  our  souls'  chief  Hope  ! 
We  to  thy  mercy  fly  ; 

Where'er  we  are,  thou  canst  protect, 
Whate'er  we  need,  supply. 

3  Whether  we  sleep  or  wake, 
To  thee  we  both  resign  ; 

By  night  we  see,  as  well  as  day. 
If  thy  light  on  us  shine. 

4  Whether  we  live  or  die. 
Both  we  submit  to  thee; 

In  death  we  live,  as  well  as  life, 
If  thine  in  death  we  be. 

The  author  of  this  hymn,  John  Austin,  was 
bom  at  Walpole,  Norfolk,  England,  and  edu- 
cated at  St.  John's,  Cambridge.  He  became 
a  member  of  the  Roman  Catholic  communion. 
He  then  began  to  study  for  the  Bar,  but  aban- 
doned this  after  a  time  and  devoted  himself 
to  literature  as  a  profession.  His  death  oc- 
curred in  London,  1669.  Mr.  Austin  is  best 
known  in  hymnology  as  the  author  of  a  Ro- 
man Catholic  manual  entitled,  Drootions  in 
the  Atitient  Way  of  Offices,  1668,  which  went 
through  several  editions  in  a  few  years.  It 
contained  forty-three  hymns,  most  of  them 
original,  and  among  these  was  included  the 
poem  quoted  here.  The  present  form  is  an 
abridgment,  and  has  become  widely  popular. 

1 052  Church  Covenant.  7s,  6s.  D. 

0  Jesus,  I  have  promised 
To  serve  thee  to  the  end ; 

Se  thou  for  ever  near  me, 
My  Master  and  my  friend  ; 

1  shall  not  fear  the  battle 
If  thou  art  by  my  side, 

Nor  wander  from  the  pathway 
If  thou  wilt  be  my  guide. 

2  Oh,  let  me  feel  thee  near  me; 
The  world  is  ever  near ; 

I  see  the  sights  that  dazzle, 
The  tempting  sounds  I  hear; 

My  foes  are  ever  near  me, 
.\round  me  and  within  ; 

But,  Jesus,  draw  thou  nearer. 
And  shield  my  soul  from  sin. 

3  O  Jesus,  thou  hast  promised 
To  all  who  follow  thee. 

That  where  thou  art  in  glory 
There  shall  thy  servant  be : 

And,  Jesus,  I  have  promised 
To  serve  thee  to  the  end ; 

Oh,  give  me  grace  to  follow. 
My  Master  and  my  friend. 

Rev.  John  Ernest  Bode,  M.  A.,  was  born 
in  1 8 16,  and  educated  at  Eton  and  Christ 
Church,  Oxford,  graduating  in  1837.  He  took 
Holy  Orders  in  the  Church  of  England,  in 
1 84 1,  and  six  years  later  became  rector  of 


THE   LORD'S   SUPPER. 


553 


Westwell,  Oxfordshire,  where  he  remained 
until  i860,  when  he  was  appointed  rector  of 
Castle  Camps,  Cambridgeshire.  His  death 
occurred  at  the  latter  place,  October  6,  1 874. 
In  addition  to  a  volume  of  lectures,  Mr.  Bode 
published  several  books  of  hymns  and  occa- 
sional poems.  The  one  quoted  here  is  the 
most  popular,  and  was  originally  printed  in 
the  1 869  Appendix  to  the  Psalms  and  Hymns 
of  the  Society  for  Promoting  Christian  Know- 
ledge. 

1 070  Hymn/or  Closing.  8s,  7s. 

Thine  for  ever,  thine  for  ever  ! 

May  thy  face  upon  us  shine  ; 
Help,  oh,  help  our  weak  endeavor, 

Lord,  for  ever  to  be  thine. 

2  Thine  for  ever,  thine  for  ever  ! 
Armed  with  faith,  and  strong  in  thee, 

Ever  fighting,  fainting  never, 
May  we  march  to  victory  ! 

3  Daily  in  the  grace  increasing 
Of  thy  Spirit,  more  and  more, 

Watching,  praying  without  ceasing, 
May  we  reach  the  heavenly  shore  ! 

Another  hymn  suitable  for  the  occasion  of 
receiving  members  into  the  church,  contrib- 
uted by  Dr.  Christopher  Wordsworth,  Bishop 
of  Lincoln,  to  the  Appendix  to  Psalms  and 
Hymns,  1869.  It  was  somewhat  rearranged 
when  it  was  included  in  Church  Hymns,  1871, 
and  the  version  used  therein  has  became  the 
authorized  te.xt.  In  the  old  fable  which  the 
Hebrews  used  to  teach  their  children  about 
the  fallen  angels,  they  said  that  the  angels  of 
knowledge,  proud  and  wilful,  were  cast  down 
hopelessly  into  hell ;  but  the  angels  of  love, 
humble  and  tearful,  crept  back  once  mdre 
into  the  blessed  light,  and  were  welcomed 
home. 

1079  "  In  Remembrance."  7s.  61. 

Saviour  of  our  ruined  race. 
Fountain  of  redeeming  grafe. 
Let  us  now  thy  fullness  see, 
While  we  here  converse  with  thee ; 
Hearken  to  our  ardent  prayer — 
Let  us  all  thy  blessing  share. 

2  While  we  thus,  with  glad  accord, 
Meet  around  thy  table,  Lord, 

Bid  us  feast  with  joy  divine 
On  the  appointed  bread  and  wine; 
Emblems  may  they  truly  prove 
Of  our  Saviour's  bleeding  love. 

3  Weak,  unworthy,  sinful,  vile. 
Yet  we  seek  thy  heavenly  smile. 
Canst  thou  all  our  sins  forgive? 
Dost  thou  bid  us  look  and  live? 
Lord,  we  wonder  and  adore  ! 
Oh,  for  grace  to  love  thee  more ! 

This  is  another  of  the  pieces  by  Dr.  Thomas 
Hastings  which  have  become  generally  popu- 
lar. It  was  first  printed  in  his  Devotional 
Hymns  and  Religions  Poems  in  1850,  and 
was  entitled  "  Holy  Communion." 


1 082  The  Historic  Memorial.  7s.  61. 

Many  centuries  have  fled 
Since  our  Saviour  broke  the  bread, 
And  this  sacred  feast  ordained, 
Ever  by  his  church  retained : 
Those  his  body  who  discern 
Thus  shall  meet  till  his  return. 

2  Come,  the  blessed  emblems  share, 
Which  the  Saviour's  death  declare  ; 
Come,  on  truth  immortal  feed  ; 
For  his  flesh  is  meat  indeed  ! 
Saviour!  witness  with  the  sign 
That  our  ransomed  souls  are  thine. 

Beginning  with  the  words  "  Eighteen  cen- 
turies have  fled,"  this  piece  for  "  Holy  Com- 
munion," written  by  Josiah  Conder,  first  ap- 
peared in  the  Congregational  Hymn-Book, 
1836.  It  is  based  upon  I.  Corinthians  11  :  26  ; 
"  Ye  do  show  the  Lord's  death  till  he  come." 
The  point  of  its  sentiment  is  in  its  historic 
reference  to  the  Lord's  Supper  as  a  m.emorial. 
Where  did  the  observance  of  "  the  Fifth  of 
November "  come  from,  if  there  never  was 
any  Guy  Fawkes .-'  Where  did  the  celebration 
of  "  The  Fourth  of  July  "  come  from,  if  there 
never  was  any  Declaration  of  Independence? 
The  existence  of  a  festival,  so  plain  and 
marked,  for  all  these  eighteen  centuries, 
traceable  clear  back  to  the  period  of  Jesus 
Christ's  life  and  death,  and  not  beyond,  is  a 
direct  and  irrefragable  proof  of  the  truth  of 
Christianity. 


1090 


"  My  Beloved" 


P.M. 


1  LIFT  my  heart  to  thee. 
Saviour  divine ! 

For  thou  art  all  to  me. 
And  I  am  thine. 
Is  there  on  earth  a  closer  bond  than  this, 
That  "  my  Beloved  's  mine  and  I  am  his''? 

2  Thine  am  I  by  all  ties  ; 
But  chiefly  thine, 

That,  through  thy  sacrifice. 
Thou,  Lord,  art  mine. 
By  thine  own  cords  of  love,  so  sweetly  wound 
Around  me,  I  to  thee  am  closely  bound. 

3  To  thee,  thou  bleeding  Lamb, 
I  all  things  owe  ; 

All  that  1  have  and  am. 
And  all  I  know. 
All  that  I  have  is  now  no  longer  mine. 
And  I  am  not  mine  own  ;  Lord,  I  am  thine. 

4  How  can  I,  Lord,  withhold 
Life's  brightest  hour 

Pom  thee ;  or  gathered  gold. 
Or  any  power? 
Why  should  I  keep  one  precious  thing  from  thee. 
When  thou  hast  given  thine  own  dear  self  for  me? 

The  author  of  this  hymn,  Charles  Edward 
Mudie,  is  a  business  man,  best  known  to  the 
English  public  as  the  founder  of  the  library 
which  bears  his  name.  He  was  born  at 
Cheyne  Walk,  Chelsea,  October  i8.  1818,  and 
died  at  Hampstead,  October  28,  1890.  Mr. 
Mudie  wrote  a  number  of  poems,  which  he 
collected   in   one  volume  and  published   in 


554 


THE  CHURCH   OF   GOD. 


1872,  with  the  title  Stray  Leaves.  In  this 
book  are  a  few  hymns,  the  best  known  being 
the  one  quoted  above,  which  was  written  in 
1 87 1 ,  and  has  much  beauty  and  tenderness  of 
expression.  The  Scripture  reference  is  to  the 
Song  of  Solomon  2:16. 

1 097  Jesus'  Agony.  6s,  4s. 

Low  in  thine  agony 
Bearing  thy  cross  for  me. 

Saviour  divine  ! 
In  the  dark  tempter's  hour. 
Quailing  beneath  his  power, 
Sorro\ving  more  and  more, 

Thou  dost  incline. 

2  O  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth, 
What  sorrow  unto  death 

Dost  thou  sustain ! 
Thou  dost  in  anguish  bow : 
Thou  art  forsaken  now : 
For  me  this  cup  of  woe 

Thou  dost  now  drain. 

3  Saviour,  give  me  to  share 
Thy  lowly  will  and  prayer 

In  all  my  woe; 
In  my  soul's  agony 
Let  me  resemble  thee ; 
An  angel  strengthening  me. 

Let  me,  too,  know. 

4  Thy  soul  its  travail  saw. 
And  in  its  heavy  woe 

Was  satisfied. 
So  let  my  sorrow.  Lord, 
Fullness  of  joy  afford. 
To  life  and  God  restored, 

Through  him  who  died. 

Rev.  Henry  Allon,  D.  D.,  was  born  at  Wel- 
ton,  near  Hull,  in  England,  October  18,  1818 ; 
he  was  educated  at  Cheshunt  College,  Herts. 
He  entered  the  ministry  of  the  church  called 
Independent  at  that  time,  but  of  late  accept- 
ing the  usual  title  of  Congregational,  becom- 
ing in  1 844  co-pastor  with  Rev.  T.  Lewis  in 
an  interesting  and  increasing  organization 
formed  out  of  several  denominations,  and  so 
taking  the  name  of  Union  Chapel,  in  Isling- 
ton ;  he  became  the  sole  minister  eight  years 
afterwards,  when  his  senior  associate  was  re- 
moved by  death.  He  never  changed  his  loca- 
tion, though  he  assumed  at  times  other  and 
outside  work.  He  was  the  editor  of  the 
British  Quarterly  Review  for  many  years  of 
industrious  and  careful  literary  activity.  He 
died  in  his  home,  still  the  pastor  of  that  dear 
parish,  April  16,  1892.  It  is  somewhat  no- 
ticeable that  so  distinguished  a  hymnologist 
as  this  busy  pastor  has  proved  himself  to  be 
has,  after  all,  never  given  to  the  public  any  of 
his  own  musical  compositions,  if  he  made 
any,  and  stands  represented  in  the  manuals 
by  only  one  hymn.  In  his  early  volume,  en- 
titled Supplemental  Hymns,  he  introduced 
the  Passion  poem,  beginning  with  the  first 
line,  "  Low  in  thine  agony."  This  was  in 
1868;    after  the  issue  of  that  he  edited  the" 


New  Congregational  Hymn-Book,  and  in  1886 
he  compiled  the  Congregational  Psalmist 
Hymnal.     He  often  lectured  upon  song  in  its 


RKV.    H!.NR"i'    AI.l.ON,    I,.    l\ 

relation  to  church  life,  and  printed  essays 
upon  the  forms  of  service  on  the  Sabbath, 
and  so  did  his  full  part  before  the  public  in 
stimulating  the  growth  of  taste  and  opinion. 
He  was  helped  by  the  fact  that  he  spent  his 
life  in  one  long  pastorate  among  the  same 
people  and  their  descendants ;  for  this  ren- 
dered such  an  individual  simply  supreme  in 
power  of  influence  and  control.  He  acted  as 
he  wished  and  willed  in  that  field  of  Christian 
labor,  and  no  other  parties  interfered  to  resist 
methods  that  were  found  good  and  useful. 

i  098  /«  a  Figure.  8s,  7s.  D. 

In  the  name  of  God,  the  Father, 

In  the  name  of  God,  the  Son, 
In  the  name  of  God,  the  Spirit, 

One  in  Three,  and  Three  in  One, 
In  the  name,  which  highest  angels 

Speak  not,  ere  they  vail  their  face, 
Ciying,  "  Holy,  holy,  holy!" 

Come  we  to  this  sacred  place. 

2  Here,  in  figure  represented. 

See  the  passion  once  again  ; 
Here  behold  the  Lamb  most  holy. 

As  for  our  redemption  slain  ; 
Here  the  Saviour's  body  broken, 

Here  the  blood  which  Jesus  shed, 
Mystic  food  of  life  eternal. 

See,  for  our  refreshment  spread. 


THE   LORD  S   SUPPER. 


3  Here  shall  highest  praise  be  offered  ; 

Here  shall  meekest  prayer  be  poured  ; 
Here,  with  body,  soul,  and  spirit, 

God  incarnate  be  adored  ; 
Holy  Jesus  !  for  thy  coming 

May  thy  love  our  hearts  prepare ; 
Thine  we  fain  would  have  them  wholly, 

Enter,  Lord  !  and  tarry  there. 

Rev.  John  William  Hewett,  M.  A.,  a 
clergyman  of  the  Church  of  England,  was 
i  born  in  1824,  and  educated  at  Trinity  Col- 
lege, Cambridge,  graduating  1849.  He  was 
for  the  three  following  years  Fellow  of  St. 
Nicholas  College,  Shoreham,  and  subsequent- 
ly held  the  position  of  Master  in  schools 
at  Blexham  and  London.  He  has  also  been 
curate  of  several  churches  in  London  and 
its  vicinity.  Mr.  Hewett  has  published 
several  works  in  prose  and  is  known  as  the 
author  of  some  original  hymns  and  transla- 
tions which  appeared  in  his  Verses  by  a 
Coimtry  Curate,  1859.  Among  them  is  the 
one  for  Communion  quoted  here,  and  which 
has  come  into  general  use. 

1099  "  Our  Daily  Bread."  6s.  D. 

Give  us  our  daily  bread, 

O  God,  the  bread  of  strength; 
For  we  have  learned  to  know 

How  weak  we  are  at  length  ; 
As  children  we  are  weak. 

As  children  must  be  fed  ; 
Give  us  thy  grace,  O.Lord, 

To  be"  our  daily  bread. 

2  Give  us  our  daily  bread. 
The  bitter  bread  of  g:rief ; 

We  sought  earth's  poisoned  feasts. 

For  pleasure  and  relief: 
We  sought  her  deadly  fruits, 

But  now,  O  God,  instead. 
We  ask  thy  healing  grief 

To  be  our  daily  bread. 

3  Give  us  our  daily  bread 
To  cheer  our  fainting  soul ; 

The  feast  of  comfort,  Lord, 
And  peace  to  make  us  whole  : 

For  we  are  sick  of  tears, 
The  useless  tears  we  shed  ; 

Now  give  us  comfort.  Lord, 
To  be  our  daily  bread. 

4  Give  us  our  daily  bread, 
The  bread  of  angels.  Lord, 

By  us  so  many  times 

Broken,  betrayed,  adored ; 
His  body  and  his  blood. 

The  feast  that  Jesus  spread. 
Give  him,  our  Life,  our  All, 

To  be  our  daily  bread. 

Another  of  the  compositions  of  Miss 
Adelaide  Anne  Procter,  taken  from  her 
Legends  and  Lyrics,  1858.  It  is  founded 
upon  the  petition  of  the  Lord's  Prayer, 
"  Give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread." 


Thou  bruised  and  broken  Bread, 
My  life-long  wants  supply  ; 

As  living  souls  are  fed. 
Oh,  feed  me  or  I  die. 

2  Thou  true  life-giving  Vine! 
Let  me  thy  sweetness  prove; 

Renew  my  life  with  thine. 
Refresh  my  soul  with  love. 

Rough  paths  my  feet  have  trod. 
Since  first  their  course  began ; 

Feed  me,  thou  Bread  of  God! 
Help  me,  thou  Son  of  Man  ! 

3  For  still  the  desert  lies 
My  thirsting  soul  before, 

O  Living  Waters !  rise 

Within  me  evermore. 
To  Father,  and  to  Son, 

And,  Holy  Ghost,  to  thee, 
Eternal  Three  in  One, 

Eternal  glory*  be. 

This  is  another  piece  of  Rev.  John  S.  B. 
Monsell's  composition.  He  first  published  it 
in  his  Parish  Hymnal,  1873.  It  refers  to  that 
sort  of  spiritual  growth  which  may  be  ex- 
pected in  the  experience  of  a  devoted  be- 
liever who  renounces  himself  and  turns  to 
Christ  for  religious  food  and  drink.  One 
who  hungers  and  thirsts,  and  yet  will  be  sat- 
isfied with  nothing  less  than  Christ  for  his 
manna,  and  Christ  for  his  wine,  many  reason- 
ably hope  to  advance  rapidly  in  the  genuine 
grace  of  the  gospel.  The  company  which 
usually  gathers  at  a  Church  Sacrament  is 
most  likely  the  best  among  the  members. 
Ah,  yes ;  but  the  remembered  remark,  made 
by  a  quaint  old  Puritan,  is  unfortunately  still 
correct  :  "  You  cannot  always  tell  what 
o'clock  it  is  in  a  man's  breast  by  inspecting 
the  mere  dial  of  his  daily  countenance." 
Even  Jesus  used  a  whole  parable  to  instruct 
his  disciples  that  it  must  always  be  impossi- 
ble to  separate  tares  from  wheat ;  if  one 
should  attempt  it,  he  would  most  likely  root 
up  wheat  also.  We  are  to  watch  and  pray, 
help  ourselves  and  be  helped,  let  God  do 
what  he  will,  and  ourselves  do  what  we  can. 
Two  hours  before  he  died,  the  lamented  Ar- 
nold wrote  in  his  private  journal  these  words  : 
"  Above  all,  let  me  mind  my  own  personal 
task  ;  keep  myself  pure,  and  zealous,  and  be- 
lieving, laboring  to  do  God's  work,  yet  not 
anxious  that  it  should  be  done  by  me  rather 
than  by  others,  if  God  disapproves  my  doing 
it."  Thus  he  waited  and  worked  ;  and  he 
was  not,  for  God  took  him. 


i  1 00  Bread  and  Wine. 

•I  HUNGER  and  I  thirst ; 

Jesus,  my  manna  be  ; 
Ye  living  waters,  burst 

Out  ofthe  Rock  for  me. 


6s,  D. 


1 09  "  Fling  out  the  Banner." 

Fling  out  the  banner:  let  it  float 
Skyward  and  seaward,  high  and  wide; 

The  sun,  that  lights  its  shining  folds. 
The  cross,  on  which  the  Saviour  died. 

2  Fling  out  the  banner ;  angels  bend 
In  anxious  silence  o'er  the  sign. 

And  vainly  seek  to  comprehend 
The  wonder  ofthe  Love  Divine. 


L.  M. 


556 


THE   CHURCH    OF   GOD. 


3  Fling  out  the  banner  :  heathen  lands 
Shall  see  from  far  the  glorious  sight ; 

And  nations,  crowding  to  be  born, 
Baptize  their  spirits  in  its  light. 

4  Fling  out  the  banner  :  let  it  float 
Skyward  and  seaward,  high  and  wide: 

Our  glory  only  in  the  cross. 
Our  only  hope,  the  Crucified. 

Rev.  George  W.  Doane,  D.  D.,  wrote  this 
hymn  at  "  Riverside,  Second  Sunday  in  Ad- 
vent, 1848."  It  was  published  in  the  last  edi- 
tion of  \\xs>  Songs  by  the  Way,  1875.  Professor 
Bird  rather  slightingly  calls  it  an  "  effusion," 
but  at  least  it  has  the  merit  of  enthusiasm  in  the 
cause  of  Missions.  The  figure  it  uses  is 
caught  from  Psalm  60 : 4 :  "  Thou  hast  given 
a  banner  to  them  that  fear  thee,  that  it  may 
be  displayed  because  of  the  truth." 

1115  Messiah's  Reign.  C.  M. 

The  Lord  will  come,  and  not  be  slow ; 

His  footsteps  cannot  err; 
Before  him  Righteousness  shall  go, 

His  royal  harbinger. 

2  Mercy  and  Truth,  that  long  were  missed. 
Now  joyfully  are  met ; 

Sweet  Peace  and  Righteousness  have  kissed, 
And  hand  in  hana  are  set. 

3  Truth  from  the  earth,  like  to  a  flower. 
Shall  bud  and  blossom  then. 

And  Justice,  from  her  heavenly  bower. 
Look  down  on  mortal  men. 

4  Thee  will  I  praise,  O  Lord,  my  God ! 
Thee  honor  and  adore 

With  my  whole  heart,  and  blaze  abroad 
Thy  name  for  evermore ! 


JOHN  MILTON. 

England's  famous  blind  singer,  John  Milton, 
has  no  need  of  a  mere  hymn  annotation  to 
record  his  work  as  a  poet  or  to  proclaim  his 
literary  fame.  He  was  born  in  London,  De- 
cember 9,  1608,  and  died  in  that  city,  Novem- 
ber 8,  1674.     Of  his  nineteen  paraphrases  of 


the  Psalms,  more  than  half  have  been  rejected 
by  compilers,  but  seven  are  in  common  use 
now.  The  one  we  quote  is  the  author's  ver- 
sion of  Psalm  85. 

1117  Departure.  8s,  6s,  4s. 

With  the  sweet  word  of  peace 

We  bid  our  brethren  go; 
Peace,  as  a  river  to  increase. 

Ana  ceaseless  flow. 

2  With  the  calm  word  of  prayer  I 
We  earnestly  commend 

Our  brethren  to  thy  watchful  care, 
Eternal  Friend  ! 

3  With  the  dear  word  of  love 
We  give  our  brief  farewell : 

Our  love  below,  and  thine  above, 
With  them  shall  dwell. 

4  With  the  strong  word  of  faith 
We  stay  ourselves  on  thee  ; 

That  thou,  O  Lord,  in  life  and  death 
Their  Help  shall  be. 

5  Then  the  bright  word  of  hope 
Shall  on  our  parting  gleam, 

And  tell  of  joys  beyond  the  scope 
Of  earth-born  dream. 

6  Farewell !   in  hope,  and  love. 

In  faith,  and  peace,  and  prayer: 
Till  he  whose  home  is  ours  above 
Unite  us  there. 

George  Watson  was  born  at  Birmingham, 
England,  1816,  and  was  a  printer  in  London 
until  1866.  He  was  the  pioneer  of  cheap  illus- 
trated periodicals  in  Great  Britain,  but  in 
hymrtology  is  best  known  by  the  poem  quot- 
ed here.  It  was  written  in  1867  to  be  sung 
at  a  farewell  meeting  in  Brighton,  held  on  the 
departure  of  Rev.  Edwin  Paxton  Hood  for  a 
time  of  rest.  After  his  return  Mr.  Hood  in- 
cluded it  in  a  collection  called  Our  Hymn 
Book,  Brighton,  1868,  and  it  has  been  fre- 
quently republished  since. 

1121  The  Call  to  Service.  8s,  7s.  D. 

We  are  living,  we  are  dwelling, 

In  a  grand  and  awful  time, 
In  an  age  on  ages  telling; 

To  be  living  is  sublime. 
Hark,  the  waking  up  of  nations, 

Gog  and  Magog  to  the  fray  : 
Hark,  what  soundeth  ?  is  creation 

Groaning  for  its  latter  day  ? 

2  Worlds  are  charging,  heaven  beholding, 

Thou  hast  but  an  hour  to  fight ; 
Now  the  blazoned  cross  unfolding, 

On,  right  onward,  for  the  right ! 
On  !  let  all  the  soul  within  vou 

For  the  truth's  sake  go  abroad  ! 
Strike,  let  every  nerve  and  sinew 

Tell  on  ages,  tell  for  God ! 

This  impressive  poem  by  Bishop  Arthur 
Cleveland  Coxe  first  appeared  in  his  Athan- 
aston,  1840,  and  later  was  included  in  Lyra 
Sacra  Americana.  It  is  useful  for  certain  oc- 
casions when  the  hearts  of  people  -are  deeply 
stirred,  when  great  passions  are  aroused,  when 
mighty  issues  are  at  stake.     Two  or  three 


MISSIONS   AND   GROWTH. 


557 


verses  from  another  author  might  well  be 
added  to  it : 

"  Men  of  thought,  be  up  and  stirring  night  and  day : 
Sow  the  seed— withdraw  the  curtain — clear  the  way ! 
Men  of  action,  aid  and  cheer  them,  as  ye  may  ! 

There  's  a  fount  about  to  stream. 

There  's  a  light  about  to  beam. 

There  's  a  warmth  about  to  glow, 

There  's  a  flower  about  to  blow  ; 
There  's  a  midnight  blackness  changing  into  gray. 
Men  of  thought  and  men  of  action,  clear  the  way  I 

''  Lo  !  a  cloud  's  about  to  vanish  from  the  day ; 
And  a  brazen  wrong  to  crumble  into  clay. 
Lo  !  the  right  's  about  to  conquer :  clear  the  way  I 

With  the  right  shall  many  more 

Enter  smiling  at  the  door  ; 

With  the  giant  wrong  shall  fall 

Many  others,  great  and  small. 
That  for  ages  long  have  held  us  for  their  prey. 
Men  of  thought  and  men  of  action,  clear  the  way  !" 

f  1 35  Heralds  of  the  King.  8s,  6s. 

Send  thou,  O  Lord,  to  every  place 
Swift  messengers  before  thy  face, 
The  heralds  of  thy  wondrous  grace, 
Where  thou,  thyself,  wilt  come. 

2  Send  men  whose  eyes  have  seen  the  King, 
Men  in  whose  ears  his  sweet  words  ring; 
Send  such  thy  lost  ones  home  to  bring ; 

Send  them  where  thou  wilt  come. 

3  To  bring  good  news  to  souls  in  sin  ; 
The  bruised  and  broken  hearts  to  win; 
In  every  place  to  bring  them  in. 

Where  thou,  thyself,  wilt  come. 

4  Gird  each  one  with  the  Spirit's  sword. 
The  sword  of  thine  own  deathless  word  ; 
And  make  them  conquerors,  conquering  Lord, 

Where  thou,  thyself,  wilt  come. 

5  Raise  up,  O  Lord  the  Holy  Ghost, 
From  this  broad  land  a  mighty  host. 
Their  war  cry,  "  We  will  seek  the  lost. 

Where  thou,  O  Christ,  wilt  come!" 

This  excellent  hymn  was  composed  by  Mrs. 
Mary  Cornelia  Gates,  who  prefers  to  be  known 
as  the  wife  of  her  honored  husband.  President 
Merrill  E.  Gates  of  Amherst  College.  Her 
residence  is  in  Amherst,  Mass. 

1141  Going  Home— Phil.  3  : 20.  P.  M. 

No,  no  it  is  not  dying 

To  go  unto  our  God  ; 
This  gloomy  earth  forsaking. 
Our  journey  homeward  taking, 

Along  the  starry  road. 

2  No,  no,  it  is  not  dying 
Heaven's  citizen  to  be ! 

A  crown  immortal  wearing, 
And  rest  unbroken  sharing. 
From  care  and  conflict  free. 

3  No,  no,  it  is  not  dying 

The  Shepherd's  voice  to  know ; 
His  sheep  he  ever  leadeth. 
His  peaceful  flock  he  feedeth, 

Wnere  living  pastures  grow. 

4  Oh,  no !  this  is  not  dying. 
Thou  Saviour  of  mankind  ! 

There,  streams  of  love  are  flowing. 
No  hindrance  ever  knowing ; 
Here,  only  drops  we  find. 

From  the  French  of  Dr.  Cassar  Malan, 
^'  Non,  ce  n'  est  fias  inonrir."  It  was  trans- 
lated into  German  by  A.  Knapp,  and  thence 


rendered  into  English  by  Professor  Robinson 
Porter  Dunn  of  Brown  University.  It  first 
appeared  in  Sacred  Lyrics  from  the  Cermatt, 
published  in  Philadelphia  in  1859.  "  It  is  re- 
markable that  the  Greek  word  skenos  [tent] 
is  one  from  which  we  also  derive  our  word 
skin.  Sometimes  the  tent  was  composed  of 
skins  (perhaps  usually  the  tents  of  Kedar), 
sometimes  of  haircloth ;  but,  in  either  case,  it 
mingled  the  ideas  of  a  habitation  and  a  ves- 
ture. Hence  there  was  much  of  suggestion 
and  deep  instruction  in  the  occupation  of  the 
tent-maker.  The  tent  was  the  mediator  be- 
tween the  bodily  frame  and  the  heavens. 
In  a  similar  way,  the  skin  of  the  human  body 
and  the  body  itself  is  the  skenos  between 
the  world  unseen  and  the  soul.  The  body, 
as  the  apostle  argues,  is  the  tent  of  the 
spirit — '  the  earthly  house  of  this  tent  or  tab- 
ernacle ;'  it,  like  the  tent,  was  only  a  transitory 
dwelling,  a  portable  habitation,  easily  raised, 
how  easily  destroyed  !  But  /  abide,  although 
the  tent  is  removed,  dissolved,  loosened,  or 
lost.  All  this  evidently  governs  the  apostle's 
thought." 

I  1 43  Funeral  Service.  P.  M. 

Now  the  laborer's  task  is  o'er; 

Now  the  battle-day  is  past ; 
Now  upon  the  farther  shore 

Lands  the  voyager  at  last. 
Father,  in  thy  gracious  keeping 
Leave  we  now  thy  serv'ant  sleeping. 

2  There  the  tears  of  earth  are  dried  : 
There  its  hidden  things  are  clear; 

There  the  work  of  life  is  tried 
By  a  juster  Judge  than  here. 
Father,  in  thy  gracious  keeping 
Leave  we  now  thy  servant  sleeping. 

3  There  the  sinful  souls  that  turn 
To  the  cross  their  dying  eyes, 

All  the  love  of  Christ  shall  learn 

At  his  feet  in  Paradise. 
Father,  in  thy  gracious  keeping 
Leave  we  now  thy  servant  sleeping. 

4  "  Earth  to  earth,  and  dust  to  dust ;" 
Calmly  now  the  words  we  say ; 

Leaving  him  to  sleep  in  trust. 

Till  the  resurrection-day. 
Father,  in  thy  gracious  keeping 
Leave  we  now  thy  servant  sleeping. 

The  author,  Rev.  John  Ellerton,  says  of 
this  poem  :  "  The  whole  hymn,  especially  the 
third,  fifth,  and  sixth  verses,  owes  many 
thoughts,  and  some  expressions,  to  a  beauti- 
ful poem  of  the  Rev.  Gerard  Moultrie's,  be- 
ginning, 'Brother,  now  thy  toils  are  o'er."  " 
It  was  written  for  the  Society  for  Promoting 
Christian  Knowledge,  and  published  in  their 
Church  Hymns,  1 87 1 . 

Immortality.  C.  M. 


I  144 


Lord,  when  in  silent  hours  I  muse 

Upon  myself  and  thee, 
I  seem  to  hear  the  stream  of  life 

That  runs  invisibly. 


558 


THE   CHRISTIAN  S    DEATH. 


2  Then  know  I  what  I  oft  forget, 
How  fleeting  are  my  days ; 

Remember  me,  my  God,  nor  let 
My  end  be  my  dispraise ! 

3  Oh,  think  upon  me  for  my  good. 
Though  little  good  I  do ; 

My  hope  and  my  forgiving  Friend 
Thou  hast  been  hitherto. 

4  My  joy,  when  truest  joy  I  have, 
It  comes  to  me  from  heaven  ; 

My  strength  when  I  from  weakness  rise, 
Is  by  thy  Spirit  given. 

5  And  while  he  shines  as  he  has  shone, 
Whom  thou  hast  made  my  stay. 

Life  can  but  gently  float  me  on. 
Not  hurry  me  away. 

A  hymn  entitled  "  Resignation,"  published 
by  the  author,  Rev.  Thomas  Toke  Lynch,  in 
the  first  edition  of  The  Rivulet ;  a  Contribu- 
tion to  Sacred  Song,  1855.  It  proposes  that 
a  true  believer  shall  find  consolation  in  his 
troubles  from  the  consideration  of  the  immor- 
tality which  is  the  inalienable  heritage  of  his 
soul.  Frederick  W.  Robertson  compares  the 
slow  and  perpetual  passage  of  time  to  the 
stream  of  water  which  glides  between  the 
fingers  of  a  stone  statue  in  a  public  park ;  the 
arms  of  the  white  marble  figure  are  extended, 
the  opening  from  the  fountain  is  skillfully 
conducted  to  the  palms,  and  so  the  current 
runs  on  and  runs  away  —  night  and  day 
summer  and  winter,  cold  and  clear  in  its  re- 
lentless progress,  till  the  statue  is  dark  and 
old.  The  thought  of  God's  presence,  Christ's 
human  love,  heaven's  nearness,  and  the 
deathless  destiny  of  the  renewed  spirit — is 
the  antidote  to  all  melancholy  here. 


I  152 


Pilgrims  of  the  Night. 


Darker  than  night  life's  shadows  fall  around  us, 
.\nd,  like  benighted  men,  we  miss  our  mark ; 

God  hides  himself,  and  grace  hath  scarcely  found  us 
Ere  death  finds  out  his  victims  in  the  dark. — Rkf. 

2  Rest  comes  at  length,  though  life  be  long  and  dreary. 
The  day  must  dawn,  and  darksome  night  be  past : 

Faith's  journey  ends  in  welcome  to  the  weary. 
And    heaven,  the   heart's  true  home,   will  come  at 
last. — Ref. 

3  Cheer  up,  my  soul !  faith's  moonbeams  soflly  glisten 
Upon  the  breast  of  life's  most  troubled  sea; 

And  it  will  cheer  thy  drooping  heart  to  listen 
To  those  brave  songs  wnich  angels  mean  for  thee. — 
Rkf. 

This  is  a  portion  of  the  previous  hymn  by 
Dr.  Frederick  W.  Faber,  beginning  "  Hark, 
hark,  my  soul."  The  original,  which  w^as 
first  published  in  his  Oratory  Hymns,  1854, 
and  entitled  "  The  Pilgrims  of  the  Night," 
contained  seven  stanzas,  and  in  that  form 
was  too  lengthy  for  American  use.  We  have 
already  commented  on  this  wonderful  piece  of 
poetry  as  a  whole.  It  has  a  most  mysterious 
strength  coupled  with  an  equally  mysterious 
weakness.      It  does  not  seem  as  if  the  senti- 


ment of  it  could  be  genuine,  and  yet  the 
rhythm,  imagination,  and  fervor  of  it  combine 
to  give  it  power  over  our  feelings.  James 
Anthony  Froude,  in  one  of  the  closing  chap- 
ters of  his  TJiotnas  Carlyle's  Life  in  Lon- 
don, has  this  pathetic  paragraph  :  "  The  as- 
sociations of  the  old  creed  which  he  (Carlyle) 
had  learned  from  his  mother  and  in  the  Ec- 
clefechan  kirk  hung  about  him  to  the  last.  I 
was  walking  with  him  one  Sunday  afternoon 
in  Battersea  Park.  In  the  open  circle  among 
the  trees  were  a  blind  man  and  his  daughter, 
she  singing  hymns,  he  accompanying  her  on 
some  instrument.  We  stood  listening.  She 
sang  Faber's  '  Pilgrims  of  the  Night.'  The 
words  were  trivial,  but  the  air,  though  simple, 
had  something  weird  and  unearthly  abeut  it. 
'  Take  me  away !'  he  said,  after  a  few  min- 
utes ;  '  I  shall  cry  if  I  stay  longer.'  " 

I  I  57  Burial  of  a  Child.  7s,  4s. 

Lkt  no  tears  to-day  be  shed, 
Holy  is  this  narrow  bed.    Alleluia ! 

2  Death  eternal  life  bestows, 

Open  heaven's  portal  throws.    Alleluia  ! 

3  Not  salvation  hardly  won. 

Not  the  meed  of  race  well  run  :     Alleluia  ! 

4  But  the  pity  of  the  Lord 

Gives  his  child  a  full  reward  :     Alleluia  ! 

5  Grants  the  prize  without  the  course  ; 
Crowns,  without  the  battle's  force.    Alleluia ! 

6  God,  who  loveth  innocence. 

Hastes  to  take  his  darling  hence.    Alleluia ! 

7  Christ,  when  this  sad  life  is  done. 
Join  us  to  thy  little  one.      Alleluia  ! 

8  And  in  thine  own  tender  love, 

Bring  us  to  the  ranks  above.  Alleluia !  Amen. 

This  is  a  translation  by  Rev.  Dr.  Richard 
Frederick  Littledale  from  a  Latin  hymn,  the 
authorship  of  which  is  unknown,  but  it  is 
a  Sequence  for  a  child's  funeral,  found  first  in 
the  Graduel  de  Paris,  1754.  The  version  of 
it  given  here  appeared  in  the  Church  Times, 
November,  1865,  and  has  since  been  included 
in  many  collections. 

I  I  5Q  In  Bereavement.  8s,  4s. 

"  Thy  will  be  done  !"    In  devious  way 
The  hurrying  stream  of  life  may  run ; 
Yet  still  our  grateful  hearts  shall  say, 
"  Thy  will  be  done." 

2  "Thv  will  be  done!"     If  o'er  us  shine 
A  gladdening  and  a  prosperous  sun, 

This  prayer  will  make  it  more  divine — 
"  Thy  will  be  done !" 

3  "  Thy  will  be  done  !"    Though  shrouded  o'er 
Our  path  with  gloom,  one  comfort — one — 

Is  ours  : — to  breathe,  while  we  adore, 
"  Thy  will  be  done." 

Taken  from  the  Hymns  of  Sir  John  Bow- 
ring,  published  in  1825.  It  is  admirably 
adapted  to  be  sung  as  a  chant,  and  in  this 
country  it  is  usually  so  sung.     On  one  occa- 


THE   REST    OF    HEAVEN. 


559 


sion  the  late  Rev.  Dr.  William  Arnot  of  Edin- 
burgh was  speaking  of  the  mysteriousness 
with  which  some  of  the  holiest  of  the  saints 
are  visited  with  repeated  affliction,  so  that  the 
rain  has  hardly  ceased  when  the  clouds  begin 
to  gather  again.  "  I  believe,"  he  said,  "  it 
arises  from  the  Father's  deep  love  and  anx- 
iety that  they  should  be  thoroughly  purified. 
I  remember  when  we  were  young  we  assisted 
in  the  farm.  One  of  our  occupations  was 
winnowing  the  corn.  It  was  hard  work,  and 
we  longed  for  it  to  be  over.  We  used  to 
watch  my  father  as  he  came  around  to  look 
at  it  and  decide  whether  or  not  it  was  clean 
enough.  He  would  take  up  a  handful,  and 
putting  on  his  glasses,  he  would  look,  and 
pause,  and  hesitate,  and  sometimes,  throwing 
it  back,  he  would  say  to  our  dismay,  '  Put  it 
through  again.'  "     The  application  was  easy. 

I  i  67  The  Homeland.  7S.  6s,  8s. 

The  Homeland  !  oh,  the  Homeland ! 

The  land  of  souls  free-born  ! 
No  gloomy  night  is  known  there. 

But  aye  the  fadeless  morn  : 

1  'm  sighing  for  that  country, 
My  heart  is  aching  here  ; 

There  is  no  pain  in  the  Homeland 
To  which  I  'm  drawing  near. 

2  My  Lord  is  in  the  Homeland, 
With  angels  bright  and  fair  ; 

No  sinful  thing  nor  evil 

Can  ever  enter  there  ; 
The  music  of  the  ransomed 

Is  ringing  in  my  ears. 
And  when  I  think  of  the  Homeland, 

My  eyes  are  wet  with  tears. 

3  For  loved  ones  in  the  Homeland 
.\re  waiting  me  to  come 

Where  neither  death  nor  sorrow 

Invades  their  holy  home: 
Oh,  dear,  dear  native  country  ! 

Oh,  rest  and  peace  above! 
Christ  bring  us  all  to  the  Homeland 

Of  his  eternal  love. 

Rev.  Hugh  Reginald  Haweis  was  born  in 
1838  at  Egham,  Surrey,  England,  and  gradu- 
ated at  Cambridge  in  1861.  He  has  held 
since  1866  the  Perpetual  Curacy  of  St.  James, 
Marylebone,  London.  He  was  for  some  time 
a  writer  of  musical  criticism  and  of  leading 
articles  on  a  newspaper  in  London,  and  in 
1868  became  editor  of  Cassell's  'Magazine. 
Mr.  Haweis  is  the  author  of  many  volumes 
of  sermons  and  lectures,  and  of  several  books 
of  poetry ;  but  is  perhaps  best  known  to 
readers  in  general  by  his  Music  and  Moruls. 
He  takes  an  ardent  interest  in  the  elevation  of 
the  workingmen  of  his  parish,  and  his  weekly 
lectures  to  them  are  a  power  for  good  in  that 
portion  of  London.  The  hymn  quoted  here 
is  the  only  one  by  him  which  is  in  common 
use»  but  it  is  a  fervent  expression  of  the 
"  heavenly  home-sickness  ;"  this  has  endeared 
it  to  many  Christians. 


1  I  73  W'ith  Christ  in  Glory.  L.  M.  D. 

Oh,  for  a  sweet,  inspiring  ray. 

To  animate  our  feeble  strains, 
From  the  bright  realms  of  endless  day, 

The  blissful  realms,  where  Jesus  reigns. 
There,  low  before  his  glorious  throne, 

Adoring  saints  and  angels  fall ; 
And  with  delightful  worship  own 

His  smile  their  bliss,  their  heaven,  their  all. 

2  Immortal  glories  crown  his  head, 
While  tuneful  hallelujahs  rise, 

And  love,  and  joy,  and  triumph  spread 
Through  all  the  assemblies  of  the  skies. 

He  smiles,  and  seraphs  tune  their  songs 
To  boundless  rapture  while  they  gaze; 

Ten  thousand  thousand  joyful  tongues 
Resound  his  everlasting  praise. 

3  There,  all  the  favorites  of  the  Lamb 
Shall  join  at  last  the  heavenly  choir; 

Oh,  may  the  joy-inspiring  theme 
Awake  our  faith  and  warm  desire. 

Dear  Saviour,  let  thy  Spirit  seal 
Our  interest  in  that  blissful  place 

Till  death  remove  this  mortal  vail, 
And  we  behold  thy  lovely  face. 

Another  of  the  hymns  of  Miss  Anne 
Steele,  who  is  so  well  known  by  her  pen- 
name  "  Theodosia."  It  was  printed  in  1760, 
in  her  volume  of  Poems  on  Subjects  Chiefly 
Devotional.  This  song  of  heaven  has  grown 
old  and  precious  in  the  esteem  of  God's  peo- 
ple. It  represents  the  final  abode  of  the  re- 
deemed as  owing  its  splendor  and  joy  to 
the  presence  in  it  of  Jesus  Christ  the  Saviour. 
The  saints  are  occupied  in  celebrating  the  in- 
effable love  he  has  displayed  in  their  redemp- 
tion. There  cannot  be  much  advantage  in 
pushing  bright  historic  illustrations  as  pic- 
tures of  the  supreme,  wonderful  love  of  God 
the  creator  for  his  creatures  here  on  the 
earth.  Only  mothers  can  understand  the 
feeling  of  Mary  when  Jesus  Christ  moaned  on 
the  cross  in  the  majestic  agony  of  his  suffer- 
ings in  darkness.  And  not  even  mothers  can 
understand  the  feelings  of  God  when  he  gave 
this  beloved  and  only-begotten  Son  of  his 
unto  contumely  and  shame  of  crucifixion. 
Nor  are  Christ's  feelings  within  reach  of  mere 
rhetorical  exhibition  by  a  story.  When  the 
spear  pierced  his  heart  there  were  only  blood 
and  water  that  came  forth.  But  the  chief 
stream  within  Jesus'  heart  was  that  of  inex- 
haustible love  ;  and  that  had  been  the  current 
down  which  had  floated  the  argosies  of  bless- 
ing for  bewildered  men  for  vast  ages  since 
the  pestilence  of  sin  had  fallen.  "  Herein  is 
love,  not  that  we  loved  God,  but  that  he  loved 
us,  and  sent  his  Son  to  be  the  propitiation  for 
our  sins." 


f  I  83  Those  Gone  Before. 

I  CANNOT  think  of  them  as  dead 
Who  walk  with  me  no  more; 

Along  the  path  of  life  I  tread 
They  have  but  gone  before. 


C.  M. 


56o 


THE  REST  OF  HEAVEN. 


2  The  Father's  house  is  niansioned  fair 
Beyond  my  vision  dim  ; 

All  souls  are  his,  and  here,  or  there, 
Are  living  unto  him. 

3  And  still  their  silent  ministry 
Witnin  my  heart  hath  place. 

As  when  on  earth  they  walked  with  me 
And  met  me  face  to  face. 

4  Their  lives  are  made  for  ever  mine  ; 
What  they  to  me  have  been 

Hath  left  henceforth  its  seal  and  sign 
Engraven  deep  within. 

5  Mine  are  they  by  an  ownership 
Nor  time  nor  death  can  free ; 

For  God  hath  given  to  love  to  keep 
Its  own  eternally. 

This  hymn  fills  a  needed  place  in  our  pas- 
toral and  pulpit  exigencies.  We  do  want 
sometimes  to  give  out  a  song  of  comfort  at  a 
funeral,  or  under  the  pressure  of  a  terrible 
bereavement.  When  a  heart  is  sighing  for 
"  the  touch  of  a  vanished  hand,  and  the 
sound  of  a  voice  that  is  still,"  we  wonder 
whether  the  old  dear  days  are  all  to  go  for 
nothing.  A  real  mourner  wants  to  be  con- 
firmed in  thinking  "  their  lives  are  made  for 
ever  mine."  The  stanzas  were  written  by  Rev. 
Frederick  L.  Hosmer,  a  Unitarian  clergyman, 
for  many  years  a  pastor  in  Cleveland,  O., 
and  a  graduate  of  Harvard  College  and 
Divinity  School.  Other  data  are  at  present 
wanting  concerning  his  career. 

I  185  "  The  City  was  pure  Gold.:'         C.  M.  D. 

There  is  a  City  great  and  strong, 

Twelve  gates  of  precious  stones. 
With  turrets  and  high  battlements, 

Not  needing  light  of  suns  ; 
The  streets  aglow  with  fire  of  gold, 

It  hath  no  sound  of  strife, 
In  glory  all  its  own  it  stands 

Beside  the  stream  of  Life. 

2  A  joy  is  there  that  knows  no  cloy, 
A  light  that  ne'er  grows  dim, 

A  multitude  that  never  cease 
From  grateful  praise  and  hymn ; 

Lo,  all  the  sainted  sons  of  earth. 
And  angels  there  I  view ; 

And  there,  oh,  vision  glorious  ! 
There  standeth  Jesus  too ! 

3  O  wondrous,  fair  Jerusalem, 
Shall  I  thy  gates  pass  through? 

Thy  jubilations  surely  join. 

Thy  lordly  splendors  view  ? 
O  Crucified,  O  Glorified, 

May  I  thy  face  behold, 
And  join  the  ransomed  as  they  sing 

Along  the  streets  of  gold ! 

This  hymn  is  taken  from  Reliques  of  the 
Christ,  a  lyric  poem  of  great  excellence  and 
beauty  consisting  of  over  eight  hundred  lines 
in  faultless  rhythm  and  meter,  composed  by 
Rev.  Denis  Wortman,  D.  D.,  a  clergyman  of 
the  Reformed  Church,  now  residing  at 
Saugerties,  N.  Y.  He  was  born  in  Hope- 
well, Dutchess  Co.,  N.  Y.,  April  30,  1835, 
the  son  of  Denis  Wortman,  M.  D.,  and  Eliza- 


REV.   DENIS  WORTMAN. 


beth  Brinkerhoff  Rapalje,  his  wife,  thus  being 
on  both  sides  descended  from  the  very  early 
Holland-Huguenot  settlers  of  New  York. 
The  young  student  entered  Amherst  College 
in  1853,  graduating  there  in  1857,  and  sub- 
sequently from  the  Theological  Seminary  at 
New  Brunswick,  N.  J.,  i860.  He  has  been  a 
pastor  in  Brooklyn,  Philadelphia,  Schenectady, 
and  Fort  Plain,  previous  to  his  charge  where 
he  now  labors,  SaugertieJ-on-Hudson.  Many 
of  his  sermons  have  been  printed,  and  he  has 
written  much  for  the  religious  periodicals. 
The  beginning  of  his  verse  composition  when 
he  was  thirty-five  years  of  age  was  a  sort 
of  surprise  to  him.  He  says  that  the  gift 
"  came  to  him  almost  unsought."  The  Rel- 
iques of  the  Christ,  he  says  again,  "  came  to 
him  one  night  in  November,  1871."  This 
whole  account  is  interesting.  Suffering  from 
nervous  prostration  and  unable  to  sleep,  he 
thought  out  the  first  three  stanzas,  or  rather, 
as  he  puts  it,  "  they  compelled  themselves." 
More  came  to  him  the  next  morning  "  in- 
voluntarily." Seventeen  years,  as  he  had  time 
and  inspiration,  he  was  engaged  in  working 
out  the  rest  of  the  conception.  The  poem 
was  finished  in  1888,  and  has  at  the  pres- 
ent reached  its  fourth  edition.  It  is  really 
one  of  the  best  productions  of  modern  times. 
The  Literary  World  says  of  it  what  will  be 
enough  to  show  the  motif  and  the  construc- 
tion :  "  The  author  seeks  every  where  signs  of 
the  presence  of  the  Christ ;  signs  of  the  phy- 


THE   REST   OF   HEAVEN. 


561 


sical  presence  of  the  historic  Jesus,  found  in  the 
Holy  Land,  and  then  in  the  sights  and  echoes 
that  for  ever  vibrate  through  space  ;  signs  of 
the  creative  power  of  the  Word  throughout 
the  visible  universe ;  signs  in  the  human 
heart ;  signs  in  the  heavenly  Jerusalem  to  be 
hereafter ;  signs  in  joy  and  sorrow,  yes,  in 
sin  itself ;  and  so  inward  and  upward  till  the 
poem  rises  to  the  vision  of  the  spiritual 
Christ,  immanent,  though  unseen,  through- 
out the  actual  world.  This  great  conception 
is  handled  with  attractive  simplicity  and  musi- 
cal grace,  combined  in  a  rare  manner  with 
intellectual  suggestiveness.  The  rapture  of 
semi-mystical  devotion  that  breathes  through 
the  stanzas  is  akin  to  the  intensity  of  the  old 
Latin  hymns  rather  than  to  modern  thought. 
Yet  in  this  simple  devoutness  are  fused  el- 
ements distinctively  modern,  and  a  chief 
merit,  certainly  a  chief  interest,  in  the  poem, 
is  the  visible  ministry  of  the  discoveries  of 
recent  science  to  the  meditative  ardor  of 
faith." 

1191  Better  Times  Coming.  7s,  6s.  D. 

Thk  world  is  very  evil ; 

The  times  are  waxing  late : 
Be  sober  and  keep  vigil ; 

The  Judge  is  at  the  gate ; 
The  Judge  who  comes  in  mercy. 

The  Judge  who  comes  in  might, 
To  terminate  the  evil, 

To  diadem  the  right. 

2  Arise,  arise,  good  Christian, 
Let  right  to  wrong  succeed  : 

Let  penitential  sorrow 

To  heavenly  gladness  lead ; 
To  light  that  hath  no  evening. 

That  knows  no  moon  nor  sun, 
The  light  so  new  and  golden, 

The  light  that  is  but  one. 

3  Oh,  home  of  fadeless  splendor. 
Of  flowers  that  fear  no  thorn, 

Where  they  shall  dwell  as  children 

Who  here  as  exiles  mourn  ! 
Strive,  man,  to  win  that  glory; 

Toil,  man,  to  gain  that  light ; 
Send  hope  before  to  grasp  it, 

Till  hope  be  lost  in  sight. 

This  is  a  cento  from  Dr.  John  Mason 
Neale's  translation  of  the  "  Hora  novissima, 
tempora  pessima  sunt,vigUemus"  of  Bernard 
de  Morlaix,  Monk  of  Cluny,  published  in  1858. 
The  translator"  afterward  included  it  in  his 
MedtcBval  Hymns,  1 863.  The  solemn  adjura- 
tion of  these  ancient  stanzas  is  full  of  serious- 
ness. "  The  Judge  is  at  the  gate  !"  This  state 
of  things  is  bad  ;  it  cannot  stand  much  long- 
er. Christ  is  coming  for  his  own.  The  evil  will 
be  terminated ;  the  right  will  be  diademed. 
The  day  of  the  Lord  is  near.  "  Prepare  to 
meet  thy  God  !" 

Every  unrepenting  man  knows,  in  the  se- 
cret of  his  own  heart,  that  when  his  eye  rests 


upon  that  awful  Form,  in  the  last  grand  vis- 
ion of  eternity,  he  will  perforce  fall  on  his 
knees.  The  sense  of  guilt  is  one  of  the  most 
intense  of  all  our  mental  exercises,  and  yet 
the  most  singularly  distinct  in  its  forms  of 
operation.  It  has  a  recognizable  and  insep- 
arable connection  with  sin.  And  sin  is  going 
to  be  the  subject  of  the  conference,  when  any 
human  soul  meets  God.  So  the  one  absorb- 
ing and  overmastering  thought  in  every 
human  mind  will  be,  as  if  left  all  alone,  in  the 
moment  of  its  vast  discovery,  to  express  in 
soliloquy  its  wonder,  "  Here  then  am  I,  come 
up  through  all  the  windings  of  personal  his- 
tory, now  a  bodiless  soul,  at  last  face  to  face 
with  the  Monarch  who  rules  monarchs,  as  he 
makes  and  unmakes  them  ;  who  sways  from 
this  eternal  seat  of  his  sovereignty  the  rule 
of  a  government  wide  enough  in  its  embrace 
to  hold  a  universe,  specific  enough  in  its  reach 
to  touch  an  atom ;  at  last,  at  last — through 
all  the  sunlights  and  the  shadows  of  life,  I 
have  reached  its  awards,  and  am  in  the  un- 
dimmed  presence  and  revelation  of  God!" 

I  192  "They  Seek  a  Country."  7s,  6s.  D. 

There  is  a  land  immortal, 

The  beautiful  of  lands ; 
Beside  its  ancient  portal 
•  A  silent  sentry  stands ; 
He  only  can  undo  it, 

And  open  wide  the  door; 
And  mortals  who  pass  through  it 

Are  mortal  nevermore. 

2  Though  dark  and  drear  the  passage 
That  leadeth  to  the  gate, 

Vet  grace  attends  the  message, 
To  souls  that  watch  and  wait : 

And  at  the  time  appointed 
A  messenger  comes  down. 

And  guides  the  Lord's  anointed 
From  cross  to  glory's  crown. 

3  Their  sighs  are  lost  in  singing, 
They  're  blessed  in  their  tears; 

Their  journey  heavenward  winging, 
They  leave  on  earth  their  fears; 

Death  like  an  angel  seemeth  ; 
"  We  welcome  thee,"  they  cry  ; 

Their  face  with  glory  beameth — 
'T  is  life  for  them  to  die  ! 

Another  of  Thomas  MacKellar's  excellent 
hymns,  wTitten  in  1845.  The  author  has  given 
to  the  public  his  account  of  its  origin  :  "  One 
evening  as  a  fancy  suddenly  struck  me  of  a 
religious  nature,  I  laid  aside  the  work  in  hand, 
and  pursuing  the  new  idea,  I  at  once  pro- 
duced the  hymn, '  There  is  a  land  immortal,' 
and  sent  it  to  the  editor  (of  Neale's  Gazette), 
who  referred  to  it  as  a  religious  poem  from 
'  Tam,'  my  assumed  name,  under  which  I  had 
already  acquired  considerable  notoriety.  This 
was  in  1845.  It  was  widely  copied,  and  after- 
wards inserted  in  a  volume  published  by  me." 
36 


562 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


I  I  97  Heaven  Explains  All.  7s,  6s.  D. 

Our  yet  unfinished  story- 
Is  tending  all  to  this  : 

To  God  the  greatest  glory, 
To  us  the  greatest  bliss, 

Our  plans  may  be  disjointed, 
But  we  may  calmly  rest : 

What  God  has  once  appointed 
Is  better  than  our  best. 

2  We  cannot  see  before  us. 
But  our  all-seeing  Friend 

Is  always  watching  o'er  us, 

And  knows  the  very  end  ; 
And  when  amid  our  blindness 

His  disappointments  fall, 
We  trust  his  loving-kindness 

Whose  wisdom  sends  them  all. 

3  They  are  the  purple  fringes 
That  hide  his  glorious  feet ; 

They  are  the  fire-wrought  hinges 
Where  truth  and  mercy  meet ; 

By  them  the  golden  portal 
Of  Providence  shall  ope, 

And  lift  to  praise  immortal 
The  songs  of  faith  and  hope. 

This  hymn  was  written  by  Miss  Frances 
Ridley  Havergal.  It  does  not  appear  in  any 
one  of  her  volumes,  so  far  as  we  can  find.  It 
is  contained  in  the  American  Selections  from 
her  Poems.  It  may  have  been  issued  upon  a 
slip  like  many  others  of  hers.  The  sugges- 
tion of  life  as  an  "  unfinished  story,"  the 
chapters  of  which  we  must  wait  to  read,  is 
one  that  most  believers  would  do  well  to  heed. 
One  incident  in  our  Lord's  history  (John 
9 :  1-3)  gives  a  pathetic  illustration  for  our 
need  just  here :  "  And  as  Jesus  passed  by, 
he  saw  a  man  which  was  blind  from  his  birth. 
And  his  disciples  asked  him,  saying.  Master, 
who  did  sin,  this  man,  or  his  parents,  that  he 
was  born  blind  ?  Jesus  answered.  Neither 
hath  this  man  sinned,  nor  his  parents  :  but 
that  the  works  of  God  should  be  made  mani- 
fest in  him." 

What  strange  revelations  there  will  be  by 
and  by  when  "  the  golden  portal  of  Provi- 
dence shall  ope  "  !  The  Psalmist  once  says  : 
"  In  thy  book  all  my  members  were  written, 
which  in  continuance  were  fashioned,  when 
as  yet  there  was  none  of  them."  When  those 
pages  are  unsealed  it  will  be  suddenly  made 
known  why  the  seven  hundred  Benjaminites 
were  made  left-handed,  and  why  Bartimasus 
was  born  blind ;  why  Mephibosheth  was 
crippled  by  a  stumbling  nurse,  and  why  the 
widow  at  Shunem  lost  her  husband.  All  the 
great,  melancholy,  heart-rending  mysteries  of 
pain  and  trouble,  humiliation  and  hindrance, 
will  go  to  show  that  "  what  God  has  once  ap- 
pointed is  better  than  our  best." 

1213  Thanksgiving.  lis,  ids. 

O  Holy  Father,  who  hast  led  thy  children 

In  all  the  ages,  with  the  fire  and  cloud. 
Through    seas    dry-shod ;   through  weary  wastes  be- 
wildering ; 

To  thee,  in  reverent  love,  our  hearts  are  bowed. 


2  O  Holy  Jesus,  Prince  of  Peace  and  Saviour, 
To  thee  we  owe  the  peace  that  still  prevails, 

Stilling  the  rude  wills  of  men's  wild  behavior, 
And  calming  passion's  fierce  and  stormy  gales. 

3  O  Holy  Ghost,  the  Lord  and  the  Life-Giver, 
Thine  is  the  quickening  power  that  gives  increase; 

From  thee  have  flowed,  as  from  a  pleasant  river, 
Our  plenty,  wealth,  prosperity,  and  peace. 

4  O  Triune  God,  with  heart  and  voice  adoring, 
Praise  we  the  goodness  that  has  crowned  our  day ; 

Pray  we,  that  thou  wilt  hear  us,  still  imploring 
Thy  love  and  favor,  kept  to  us  alway. 


BISHOP  WILLIAM    C.   DOANE. 

Rev.  William  Croswell  Doane,  D.  D.,  son 
of  Bishop  G.  W.  Doane,  was  born  March  2, 
1832,  and  educated  for  the  ministry.  He  was 
ordained  deacon  in  1853,  and  priest  in  1856, 
and  became  at  first  assistant  to  his  father  in 
St.  Mary's  Church,  Burlington,  N.  J.,  subse- 
quently being  rector.  From  1863  to  1867  he 
was  in  charge  of  St.  John's  Church,  Hartford, 
Conn.  In  the  latter  year  he  removed  to  St. 
Peter's,  at  Albany,  where  he  was  chosen  first 
Bishop  of  the  new  Diocese  of  Albany,  his  con- 
secration taking  place  February  2, 1869.  His 
career  since  has  been  marked  by  great  suc- 
cess in  organizing  various  departments  of 
church  work,  and  by  the  erection  of  a  portion 
of  a  fine  cathedral.  Bishop  Doane's  pub- 
lished works  consist  mainly  of  addresses  and 
sermons  with  some  fugitive  verses,  the  hymn 
given  here  being  the  only  one  by  which  he  is 
represented  in  this  field.  It  is  found  in  the 
n&w  Hymnal  oixht  Episcopal  Church,  1892. 


1214 


Evening  Prayer. 


IIS,  IDS. 


O  Strength  and  Stay  upholding  all  creation, 
Who  ever  dost  thyself  unmoved  abide, 

Yet  day  by  day  the  light  in  due  gradation 
From  hour  to  hour  through  all  its  changes  guide : — 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


563 


2  Grant  to  life's  day  a  calm  unclouded  ending, 
An  eve  untouched  by  shadows  of  decay, 

The  brighttiess  of  a  holy  deathbed  blending 
With  dawning  glories  of  the  eternal  day. 

The  Latin  original  of  this  poem  has  been 
attributed  to  St.  Ambrose,  but  this  cannot  be 
authenticated.  It  was  probably  written  in 
the  seventh  or  eighth  century,  and  has  been 
included  in  many  ancient  European  manu- 
scripts.- The  English  version  before  us  was 
made  by  Rev.  John  Ellerton  and  F,  J.  A. 
Hort,  and  appeared  in  Church  Hymns,  1871. 
Short  as  it  is,  this  small  lyric  is  wonderfully 
efficient  in  emphasizing  the  suggestion  that 
our  days  and  years  are  journeying  along  into 
eternity  by  the  same  steps  that  the  exalted 
life  of  our  Lord  is  taking.  We  are  nothing 
without  the  Son  of  God  ;  with  him  we  are 
what  he  is,  for  we  live  in  him.  The  truth 
which  most  humiliates  the  human  soul  is  the 
truth  which  uplifts  it.  In  his  person  and  of- 
fices Christ  the  Redeemer  is  the  same  yes- 
terday, to-day,  and  for  ever.  Here  comes  in 
Robert  Hall's  grand  remark :  "  We  are  all 
contemporaneous  with  God." 


1215 


Guilds  and  Societies. 


IIS,  los. 


O  Son  of  God,  our  Captain  of  salvation, 
Thyself  by  suffering  schooled  to  human  grief, 

We  bless  thee  for  thy  sons  of  consolation, 
Who  follow  in  the  steps  of  thee  their  Chief: 

2  Those  whom  thy  Spirit's  dread  vocation  severs 
To  lead  the  vanguard  of  thy  conquering  host ; 

Whose  toilsome  years  are  spent  in  brave  endeavors 
To  bear  thy  saving  name  from  coast  to  coast : 

3  And  all  true  helpers,  patient,  kind,  and  skillful, 
Who  shed  thy  light  across  our  darkened  earth, 

Counsel  the  doubting,  and  restrain  the  willful. 
Soothe  the  sick  bed,  and  share  the  children's  mirth. 

4  Thus,  Lord,  thy  comforters  in  memory  keeping, 
Still  be  thy  church's  watchword,  "  Comfort  ye ;" 

Till  in  our  Father's  house  shall  end  our  weeping, 
And  all  our  wants  be  satisfied  in  thee. 

Another  hymn  written  by  Rev.  John  Eller- 
ton, April  5,  1 87 1,  and  published  in  the  same 
year  in  the  Church  Hymns  of  the  Society  for 
Promoting  Christian  Knowledge.  It  cele- 
brates the  efficiency  and  the  indispensable- 
ness  of  love  as  the  motive  in  all  forms  and 
methods  of  Christian  philanthropy  and  evan- 
gelization. Affection  is  a  force — in  itself  in- 
herently a  driving  energy,  an  elementary 
power  of  human  nature  which  asserts  itself 
when  unhindered,  as  gravitation  does,  or  mag- 
netism, or  pure  sunshine.  It  is  never  to  be 
forgotten  that  men  yield  to  its  influence  all 
the  more  surely,  and  all  the  more  extensively, 
because  they  yield  unconsciously.  Herein 
lies  our  hope  of  success  in  winning  souls. 


A  workman  in  a  pottery  had  one  small  in- 
valid child  at  home.  He  wrought  at  his  trade 
with  exemplary  fidelity,  being  always  in  the 
workshop  at  the  opening  of  day.  He  man- 
aged, however,  to  bear  each  evening  to  the 
bedside  of  his  "  wee  lad,"  as  he  called  him,  a 
flower,  a  bit  of  ribbon,  or  a  fragment  of  crim- 
son glass — indeed,  anything  which  would  lie 
on  the  white  counterpane  and  give  a  little 
color  to  the  room.  He  was  a  quiet,  unsenti- 
mental man,  but  never  went  home  at  night 
without  something  which  would  make  the 
wan  face  light  up  with  joy  at  his  return.  He 
never  said  to  a  living  soul  that  he  liked  the 
boy  so  much.  Still,  he  went  on  patiently  lov- 
ing him,  and  by  and  by  he  moved  the  whole 
shop  into  positively  real  and  unconscious  fel- 
lowship with  him.  The  workmen  made  curi- 
ous little  jars  and  cups  on  their  wheels,  and 
painted  diminutive  pictures  down  their  sides 
before  they  stuck  them  into  the  corners  of  the 
kiln  at  burning  time.  One  brought  some  fruit 
in  the  bulge  of  his  apron,  and  another  engrav- 
ings in  a  rude  scrap-book.  Not  one  of  them 
whispered  a  word  afterward,  for  this  solemn 
thing  was  not  to  be  talked  about.  They  put 
them  in  the  old  man's  hat,  where  he  found 
them ;  he  would  understand  it  all.  And  it  is 
a  fact  that  the  entire  pottery,  full  of  men  of 
rather  coarse  fiber  by  nature,  grew  quiet  as 
the  months  drifted  by,  becoming  gentle  and 
kind ;  some  stopped  swearing  as  the  weary 
look  on  the  patient  worker's  face  told  them 
beyond  mistake  that  the  end  was  drawing 
nearer.  Every  day  some  one  did  a  piece  of 
work  for  him,  and  put  it  on  the  sanded  shelf 
to  dry,  so  that  he  could  come  later  and  go 
earlier.  So,  when  the  bell  tolled  and  the  little 
coffin  came  out  of  the  lonely  door,  right 
around  the  corner,  out  of  sight,  there  stood  a 
hundred  stalwart  workmen  from  the  pottery, 
with  their  clean  clothes  on,  most  of  whom 
gave  a  half-day's  time  for  the  privilege  of  tak- 
ing part  in  the  simple  procession  and  follow- 
ing to  the  grave  that  small  burden  of  a  child, 
which  probably  not  one  of  them  had  ever 
seen.  We  understand  this ;  they  loved  him 
because  somebody  had  loved  him.  And  if  an 
earthly  affection  like  this  can  win  others  into 
sharing  it,  what  is  there  which  cannot  be 
done  with  an  affection  that  is  heavenly  ?  If 
men  love  Christ  with  all  their  hearts,  as  that 
Scotchman  loved  his  boy,  the  very  love  will 
carry  heart  after  heart  in  its  train.  And  so 
here  is  an  instrument  of  usefulness  within 
the  reach  of  every  Christian  who  will  em- 
ploy it. 


GENERAL  USES  OF  THESE  INDEXES. 


The  figures  in  every  instance  refer  to  the  pages  of  the  volume.  When  in  the  list  of 
authors  the  numbers  are  starred,  the  asterisk  indicates  that  at  such  points  the  chief  or  most 
interesting  particulars  of  birth,  life,  education,  profession,  nationality,  and  denomination,  or 
a  fact  concerning  the  composition  of  a  hymn,  or  concerning  the  experience  that  led  to  the 
writing  of  it,  or  came  from  it,  may  be  found. 

In  making  preparation  for  praise-meetings  the  leader  ought  to  be  able  and  swift  in 
saying  what  he  wants  the  singers  to  know  in  order  to  keep  them  alert  and  spiritual.  He 
would  do  well  to  be  on  the  watch  at  all  times  for  stray  waifs  of  information  from  news- 
papers and  books,  so  as  to  come  up  freshly  ever)'  month  with  items  of  common  interest. 
From  the  subjects  printed  across  the  tops  of  the  pages  he  can  group  his  selections  so  as 
to  fasten  the  attention  upon  some  set  line  of  suggestion. 

Then,  likewise,  one  should  be  careful  to  follow  some  strict  order  of  arrangement  cov- 
ering, perhaps,  the  entire  winter  evenings,  so  as  to  avoid  repetition,  and  all  sorts  of  getting 
into  ruts,  and  bringing  into  use  mere  platitudes  of  exhortation.  He  might  take  up  a  given 
space  with  a  single  author  only,  and  then  study  his  life — say  Edward  Caswall  or  James 
Montgomery  or  William  Cowper — read  aloud  in  one's  family  during  the  week  previous,  and 
bring  out  the  taste  and  feeling  of  all.  It  is  helpful  to  call  the  services  by  some  quaint  sug- 
gestive name,  "  Hours  with  Hymns."  For  one,  "  An  Hour  with  Charles  Wesley;  "  another, 
"  A  Visit  at  Olney  Parsonage ;"  a  third,  "  An  Hour  with  Horatius  Bonar,"  or  "  A  Trip  to 
McCheyne's  Manse,"  and  so  on.  Sing  only  a  few  hymns,  seven  or  eight ;  move  along  with 
promptness,  but  without  haste;  choose  a  passage  of  Scripture  as  usual,  ahd  have  the  ordi- 
nary two  prayers,  in  which  it  may  not  be  imperatively  necessary  to  call  the  Lord's  atten- 
tion to  this  as  a  new  fashion  of  sei;vice  ;  if  the  people  praise  him  heartily  he  has  every 
reason  to  know  the  fact ;  never  do  things  twice  alike,  but  always  do  one  thing  invariably — • 
preach  a  living  Christ  to  dying  men,  and  for  one's  weakness  fall  on  his  strength,  and  ex- 
pect good  to  follow.     A  skillful  manager  will  make  this  meeting  about  seventy  minutes  long. 


INDEX  OF  AUTHORS. 


Peter  Abelard,  68,  *485. 

Adam  of  St.  Victor,  *24i. 

Rev.  Neliemiah  Adams,  D.D.,  *527. 

Mrs.  Sarah  Flower  Adams,  *2g5. 

Joseph  Adtlison,  *ii4,  I20,  *I2S,  346. 

Johann  Georg  Albinus,  *476. 

"Mrs.  Eliza  Sibbald  Alderson,  *385. 

Mrs.   Cecil  Frances  Alexander,  *I5I,  r8i,  214, 

216,  301.  416,  419,  477. 
Rev.  James  Waddell  .Alexander,  D.D.,  178,  *l85. 
Rev.  Henry  Alford,  D.D.,  *3i6,  317,  482,485. 
Rev.  James  Allen,  *202,  435. 
Rev.  Henry  AUon,  n.D.,  *554. 
Johann  Michael  Altenberg,  *395. 
Ambrose  of  Milan,  *I95. 
Anatoiius,  *493. 

Mrs.  Maria  Frances  Anderson,  *447. 
Andrew  of  Jerusalem,  *3i8. 
Joseph  Anstice.  *55,  538. 
Rev.  Charles  Tamerlane  Astley,  *285. 
Miss  Harriet  Auber,  *I9,  24,  31,  228,  229,  383. 
John  Austin,  *552. 

Rev.  Thomas  William  Avelinq,  D.D.,*409. 
Rev.  Leonard  Bacon,  D  D.,  *456,  *489,  500. 
Rev.  Henry  Williams  Baker,  *27,  133,  15S,  182, 

299,  341.  377.  425,  502,  549. 
Rev.  John  Bakewell,  *I93,  194. 
Rev,  Thomas  Baldwin,  D.D.,  *494. 
Mrs.  Charitie  Lees  Bancroft,  *2oS,  474. 
Mrs.  Anna  Laetitia  Barbauld,  *3S7,  461,  *487, 

515- 
Rev.  Sabine  Baring-Gould,  *93,  314,  409,  475. 
Bernard  Barton,  *353. 
Henry  Bateman,  *I02,  543. 
Rev.  William  Hiley  Bathurst,  *235,  250,   354, 

455- 
Rev.  Richard  Baxter,  *289. 
Rev.  Robert  Hall  Baynes,  *434. 
Rev.    Benjamin    Beddome,  *54,    103,    1 13,   235, 

236,  237,  245.  259,  *363,  407,  455. 
Rev.  Edward  White  Benson,  D.L).,  *4or. 
Bernard  of  Clairvaux,  *l86,  334,  337,  34S. 
Bernard  of  Cluny,  *479,  480,  *4Si. 
Rev.  George  Washington  Bethune,  D.D.,*45i, 

*464,  495,  528,  *533. 
Rev.  Edward    Henry   Bickersteth,    D.D.,   *llO, 

190,  414,  *438,  439,  *552. 
Rev.  John  Bickersteth,  *503. 
Rev.  Thomas  Binney,  D.D.,  *253. 
Rev.  Edward  Bickersteth  Birks,  *5i2. 
Rev.  Thomas  Rawson  Birks,  *437. 
John  Stuart  Blackie,  *73. 
Rev.   Thomas  Blacklock,  D.D.,  *63. 


Rev.  John  Ernest  Bode,  *552. 

Rev.  Horatius  Bonar,  D.D.,  *29,  34,  41,  45,  56, 
69,  129,  148,  165,  180,  213,  *220,  222, *223, 
224,  246,  252,  284,  302,  349,  357,  376.  382, 
392,  403,  425,  431,  432,  437,  439,  440,  464, 
472,  475.  535.  546. 

Miss  Jane  Borthwick,  *43,  *44,  310,  376,  448. 

Edgar  Alfred  Bowring,  *469. 

Sir  John  Bowring,  LL.D.,  *-j6,  *q-j,  105,  171, 
227,  362,  417.  558. 

Matthew  Bridges,  *I99,  *202,  515. 

Rev.  Phillips  Brooks,  D.D.,  *505. 

Mrs.  Phcebe  Hinsdale  Brown,  *50,  451,  488. 

William  Brown,  *42. 

Rev.  Simon  Browne,  *36,  *23S,  241. 

Michael  Bruce,  *47,  222. 

William  Cullen  Bryant,  *i6o,  *398,  *.\\\. 

Rev.  Henry  Buckoll,  *44. 

Rev.  Stephen  Greenleaf  Bulfinch,  D.D.,  *24. 

Rev.  George  Burder,  *53,  120. 

Rev.  Richard  Burdsall.  *5i5. 

Rev.  George  Burgess,  D.D.,  *3i3. 

William  Henry  Burleigh,  *284,  541. 

Rev.  Richard  Burnham,  *327,  424. 

Rev.  James  Drummond  Burns,  *S5,  286. 

John  Burton,  Jr.,  *400. 

Rev.  Edmund  Butcher,  *H2. 

John  Byrom,  *I57. 

Rev.  Charles  Lines  Cameron,  *48o. 

Rev.  William  Cameron,  *75. 

^Lss  Jane  Montgomeiy  Campbell,  *493. 

Mrs.  Margaret  Cockburn  Campbell,  *72. 

Robert  Campbell,  *40,  429. 

Thomas  Campbell,  *I45. 

Baron  von  Canitz,  ^43. 

Rev.  Joseph  Dacre  Carlyle,  *2i. 

Miss  Phoebe  Cary,  *462. 

Rev.  Edward  Caswall,  *5,  88,  237,  240,  241, 
254,  256,  *276,  *334."337.  4S3.  49i.  533- 

Rev.  John  Cawood,  *82,  154. 

Rev.  John  Cennick,  *I96,  321,  424,  *503.  510. 

Rev.  John   Chandler,   *6,   169,    208,    214,  399, 

451. 
Mrs.  Elizabeth  Charles,  *324,  *426,  551. 
Rev.  Allen  William  Chatfield,  *535. 
Mrs.  Harriet  Mary  Chester,  *45. 
Matthias  Claudius,  *493. 
Aurelius  Clemens  Prudentius,  *I58. 
Benjamin  Cleveland,  *3oi. 
Mrs.  Elizabeth  Codner,  *27i. 
Mrs.  Rebecca  Phoenix  Coe,  *453. 
Charles  Coffin,  *79,  169. 
John  Duke  Coleridge,  *499. 


566 


INDEX    OF    AUTHORS. 


r 


Daniel  Clement  Colesworthy,  *33. 

Rev.  Henry  Collins,  *347. 

Rev.  William  Bengo  CoUyer,  D.D.,  *454,  469. 

Josiah  Conder,   *89,   no,   in,  141,  172,  *275 

429,  476,  542,  553. 
Hermannus  Contractus,  *229,  *23g. 
Rev.  Henry  Cook,  D.D.,  *262. 
Rev.  William  Cooke,  *I97. 
Rev.  Edward  Cooper,  *ii2. 
William  John  Copeland,  *2I5, 
Cosmas,  *I54. 

Rev.  Thomas  Cotterill,  *39,  229,  424,  469. 
Mrs.  Anne  Ross  Cousin,  *326,  *433,  472. 
William  Cowper,   ^48,   *54,  *ic)6,  *I27,   *249, 

*287,  *3i5,  341,  355,  *375,  408,  42S. 
Miss  Frances   Elizabeth    Cox,  *330,   466,  482, 

544- 
Rev.  Arthur  Cleveland  Coxe,   D.D.,  *I7I,  399, 

556. 
Mrs.  Jane  Crewdson,  *285,  370. 
Rev.  George  Croly,  LL.D.,  *243. 
Mrs.  Ada  Cambridge  Cross,  *32. 
Rev.  William  Croswell,  D.D.,  *386. 
James  John  Cummins,  *303. 
Rev.  Sewall  Sylvester  Cutting,  D.D.,  *I3I. 
Peter  Damiani,  *483. 
Rev.  John  Nelson  Darby,  *3ii. 
Rev.  Samuel  Davies,  D.D.  *42i. 
Rev.  Arthur  Dayman,  *70,  467. 
Rev.  James  George  Deck,  *i6i,   162,  184,  193, 

205,  219,  343,  365,  373,  510. 
Sir  Edward  Denny,  *i63,   191,  220,    221,  222, 

416,  420,  427. 
William  Chatterton  Dix,  *I42,  175,  509. 
Rev.   George  Washington    Doane,    D.D.,    *89, 

164,  556. 
Rev.  William  Croswell  Doane,  D.D.,  *562. 
John  Dobell,  +258. 
Rev.   Philip  Doddridge,  D.D.,  *7,   24,  *37,  57, 

84,  86,  115,  132,   138,  215,   224,  237,  260, 

280,  307,  332,  333,  363,  364,  366,  386,  388, 

398.  405,  411,  419,  421,  443,  490,  496,  512, 

523, 
Miss  Sarah  Doudney,  *97. 
Rev.  Bourne  Hall  Draper,  LL.B.,  *456. 
Rev.  William  Hamilton  Drummond,  D.D.,  *393. 
John  Dryden,  *238. 

Rev.  George  Duffield,  Jr.,  D.D.,  *274,  *3I5. 
Rev.    Samuel    Willoughby  Duffield,   ^239,   339, 

406,  *473,  *484. 
Rev.  Robinson  Porter  Dunn,  D.D.,  *292,  557. 
George  Spring  Dwight,  *5o8. 
Rev.  Timothy  Dwight,  D.D.,  *38,  397,  *445. 
Rev.  James  Wallis  Eastburn,  *I32. 
Edward  William  Eddis,  *282,  511. 
James  Edmeston,  *8,  93,  323,  345,  367,  371,  450. 
Rev.  John  Ellerton,  *22,  87,  98,  196,  286,  *500, 

557,  563- 
Miss  Charlotte  Elliott,  *46,   56,  82,  263,  *264, 

268,  269,  270,  271,  279,  312,  381. 
Mrs.  Julia  Ann  Elliott,  *I40. 
William  Webster  Ellsworth,  *529. 
Rev.  Cornelius  Elven,  *265. 


Rev.  William  Enfield,  D.D.  ^163. 

Ennodius,  *339. 

Rev.  Jonathan  Evans,  *34,  181. 

Rev.  Charles  William  Everest,  *392. 

Rev.  Frederick  William  Faber,  D.D.,  *9i,  124, 

135.  136,  160,  165,  350,  352,  466,  474,  522, 

558. 
Rev.  James  Fanch,  *I99. 
Rev.  Justus  Falckner,  *325. 
Mrs.  Allessie  Bond  Faussett,  *270. 
Rev.   John  Fawcett,  D.D.,  *76,  95,  *I07,  lig, 

*407. 
John  Fellows,  *4I2. 
Mrs.  Eric  Findlater,  *43,  226,  259. 
Rev.  Eleazer  Thompson  Fitch,  D.D.,  *87. 
Fletcher,  *389. 
Mrs.  Eliza  Lee  Follen,  *9i. 
Charles  Laurence  Ford,  *438. 
Rev.  David  Everard  Ford,  *46o. 
Miss  Christina  Forsyth,  *243. 
Rev.  William  James  Foxell,  *503. 
August  Hermann  Francke,  *525. 
Salomo  Franck,  *i87. 
Franz  Michael  Franzen,  *324. 
Johann  Anastasius  Freylinghausen,  *522. 
Rev.  John  Gambold,  *522. 
Rev.  Hervey  Doddridge  Ganse,  *I44,  502. 
Rev.  William  Gaskell,  *488. 
Mrs.  Ellen  Huntington  Gates,  *548. 
Mrs.  Mary  Cornelia  Gates,  *557. 
Rev.   Paul  Gerhardt,  *I56,  176,  185,  309,  335, 

346,  366. 
Rev.  Thomas  Gibbons,  D.D.,  *393,  394,  470. 
Thomas    Hornblower   Gill,    *288,    334,    *349, 

*5i9.  532.  53^. 
Rev.  Samuel  Gilman,  D.D.,  *4I3. 
Rev.  Washington  Gladden,  D.D.,  *I70. 
Johann  Wolfgang  von  Goethe,   *304. 
Rev.  William  Goode,  *207. 
Rev.  Ludwig  Andreas  Gotter,  *437. 
Benjamin  Gough,  *226,  447. 
Sir  Robert  Grant,  *68,  104,  129,  292,  380. 
Gregory  the  Great,  *499. 
Rev.  Joseph  Grigg,  *259,  *348. 
Rev.  Archer  Thompson  Gumey,  *195. 
Rev.  John  Hampden  Gurney,  *i64,  506. 
Madame  Guyon,   *355. 
Carl  Rudolph  Hagenbach,  *38i. 
Rev.  Newman  Hall,  LL.B.,  *2I7, 
Rev.  James  Hamilton,  *268. 
Rev.  William  Hammond,  *23,  26,  191,  236. 
Rev.  Phoebe  A.  Ilanaford,  *384. 
Miss  Katharine  Hankey,  *5i3,  514. 
Rev.  Henry  Harbaugh,  D.D.,  *534. 
Rev.  Joseph  Hart,  *8i,  85,  186,  *234,  241,  494. 
Rev.  Lewis  Harlsough,  *5I7. 
Mrs.  Mary  Haslock,  *5i7. 
Thomas    Hastings,    Mus.  Doc,  *28,    51,    *94, 

140,  254,  255,  257,  261,  351.  372,  378,385. 

453.  536,  553- 
Miss    Frances    Ridley    Havergal,   *I73,   *I97, 

*272,    *274,    *302,    *324.    325,   364,  *370, 

*430,  *440,  492,  513.  530,  *536,   547.  562. 


INDEX    OF    AUTHORS. 


567 


Rev.  William  Henry  Havergal,  *I52,  212. 

Rev.  Hugh  Reginald  Haweis,  *559. 

Rev.  Thomas  Haweis,  LL.B.,  M.D.,  *I74,  273, 

277,  509- 
Rev,  Robert  Hawker,  M.D.,  85,  *94. 
John  Hay,  *507, 
Hayward,  *29- 
Rev.  George  Heath,  *3I3. 
Rev.  William  Beadon  Heathcote,  *79. 
Rev.  Reginald  Heber,  D.D.,  *46,  ^6,  100,  155, 

207,  347.  389.  412,  430,  *446,  458. 
Rev.  Frederick  Henry  Hedge,  D.D.,  *402. 
Rev.  Ottiwell  Heginbothom,  *io6,  332. 
Rev.  George   Herbert,  *27i. 
Petrus  Herbert,  *96. 
Rev.  John  William   Hewett,    *555. 
Rev.   Rowland  Hill,  *374. 
Rev.  Thomas  Hill,  D.D.,  *I33. 
Mrs.  Grace  Webster  Hinsdale,    *368. 
Oliver  Holden,  *52. 
Rev.  Thomas  Holme,  *370. 
Oliver  Wendell  Holmes,  M.D.,   *ii5,  420. 
Rev.  Edwin  Paxton  Hood,   *5I9. 
Henry  Joy  McCrackeii  Hope,  ^294. 
Rev.  Josiah  Hopkins,  D.  D.,  *26r. 
Rev   Edward  Hopper,  D.D.,  *303. 
F.  J.  A.  Hort,  *563. 
Rev.  Frederick  L.  Hosmer,  *56o. 
Rev.  William  Walsham   How,  D.D.,  *I09,  188, 

268,  295,  298,  329,  344,  390,  409,  492,  537. 
Rev.  Joseph  Humphreys,   *357. 
Countess   of  Huntingdon,  Selina  Shirley,  *225. 
James  Hutton,  *6. 
Mrs.  Abby  Bradley  Hyde,  *259,  413. 
Bernhardt  Severin   Ingemann,   *409. 
Miss  Genevieve  Mary  Irons.   *5I7. 
Rev.  William  Josiah  Irons,  D.D.,   *205,  523. 
A.  Jackson,  *5I2. 
Rev.  'I'iiomas  Jervis,   *24. 
Rev.  John  Johns,  *223. 
Rev.  Samuel  Johnson,  *99,  383. 
Joseph,  the  Hymnographer,    *244,  *323. 
Joseph  of  the  Studium,  *73. 
Rev.  James  Joyce,  *443. 
Rev.  Adoniram  Judson,  D.D.,  *494,  *495. 
Rev,  John  Keble,  *I3,  77,  *ii9,  228,  534. 
George  Keith,  *3io. 
Rev,    Thomas    Kelly,    *8,    11,  33,   34,  95,  *97, 

190,   191,  198,  203,  204,  210,  218,  252,  256, 

310,  313,  323,  329,  451,  482,  511. 
Rev,  Jolin  Kempthorne,  *ioi. 
Rev.  Thomas  Ken,  D.D.,  *;2.  61,  *78,  102, 
Rev,  Benjamin  Hall  Kennedy,  D.D,,  31,  *22i, 

SSI- 
John  Kent,  *366. 
Rev.  William   Ke;he,  *6i. 
Francis  Scott  Key,  *I35. 
Rev.  John  King,  *I75. 
Rev.  William  Kingsbury,  *202. 
Friedrich  Gottlieb  Klopstock.  *43. 
A.  Knapp,  *557. 

Rev.  Francis  Minden  Knolli^,  D.D.,  *469. 
Miss  H.  O.  Knowlton,  *328,  382. 


William  Knox,  *26l. 

Jonathan  Krause,  *44. 

Krishnu  Pal,  *422. 

Ernst  Lange,  *359 

Rev.  John  Langford,   *322. 

Miss  Mary  Artemisia  Lathbury,  *90,  103, 

Laurentius  Laurenti,  *I30,  226. 

Richard  Lee,  *436. 

Miss  Jane  Elizabeth  Eeeson,  *33l. 

Rev.  John  Leland,  *86, 

Rev.  Richard  Frederick  Littledale,  LL.D., 
*509.  558. 

William  Freeman  Lloyd,  *545. 

Rev.  Samuel  Longfellow,  *77,  389. 

Matihaus  Apelles  von  Lowenstern,  *395. 

Rev.  Robert  Lowth,  D  D.,  *36. 

Martin  Luther,   *I27,  *I42,  *402. 

Rev.  Thomas  Toke  Lynch,  *230,  506,  545, 
550,  558. 

Rev.  Henry  Francis  Lyte,  *42,  *58,  62,  *9g, 
*ioo,  119.  289,  310,  363,  *434,  435.450,*543- 

George  MacDonald,  LL.D.,  *338. 

Rev.  William  MacDonald,  *520. 

Rev.  John  Ross  Macduff,  D,D.,  *I78,  *2I9, 
270,  321, 

Mrs.  Margaret  Mackay,  *46i. 

Thomas  MacKellar,*504,  *549,  561. 

Rev.  William  Dalrymple  Maclagan,  D.D.,  *267. 

Rev.  Caesar  Malan,  D.D.,  *557. 

Rev.  Richard  Mant,  D.D.,*77. 134,  236,  414,465. 

Rev.  Daniel  March,  D.D.,  *548. 

Rev.  John  Marckant,  *277. 

Rev.  John  Marriott,  *230. 

Rev.  Joshua  Marshman,  D.D.,  *422. 

Rev.  Henr)'  Arthur  Martin,  *430. 

Rev.  John  Mason,  *528. 

Lowell  Mason,  Afus.  Doc,  *446. 

Rev.  William  Mason,  *35. 

Richard  Massie,  *ioo,  *I76,  187,  285,  344, 

Rev.  George  Matheson,  D.D.,  *5i8. 

Rev.  William  Tidd  Matson,  *53i. 

Mrs.  Mary  Fawler  Maude,  *430. 

Mrs.  Marv  Maxwell,  *450. 

C.  E.  May,  *254. 

Rev.  Robert  Murray  McCheyne,  *299. 

William  McComb,  *276. 

Rev.  Samuel  Medley,  *I92,  193,  250,  278. 

Johann  Wilhelm  Meinhold,  *465. 

Rev.  William  Mercer,  *74,  icx),  153. 

Rev.  James  Merrick,  *26. 

Albert  Midlane,  *542. 

Rev.  James  EUvin  Millard,  D.D.,  *7i. 

Rev.  Henry  Hart  Milman,  D.D.,  *i68,  *373. 

John  Milton,  *556. 

Rev.  William  Mitchell,  *l64. 

Joseph  Mohr,  *I58. 

Rev.  John  Samuel  Bewley  Monsell,  LL.D.,  *64, 
201,  243,  267,  287,  492,  493,  501,  508,  £IO, 
*5i8,  525,  526,  529,  531,  532,  540,  547,  555. 

James  Montgomery,  ^19,  26,  29,  35,  55,  59,  71, 
129,  152,  172,  187,  209,  228,  233,  244,  257, 
280,  303,  311,  379,  390,  391.  419,  424,  428, 
429,  *449,  462,  465,  466,  *479,  501,  546. 


568 


INDEX    OF    AUTHORS. 


Mrs.  John  P.  Morgan,  *57. 

Thomas  Moore,  *256. 

Mrs.  Eliza  Fanny  Morris,  *2S6. 

Rev.  Edward  Mote,  *526. 

Rev.  Gerard  Moultrie,  *I50,  227,  46S,  512. 

Rev.  John  Moultrie,  *iSS,  536. 

Charles  Edward  Mudie,  *553. 

Rev.  William  Augustus  Muhlenberg,  D.D.,*I50, 
410,  426. 

Rev.  Elias  Nason,  *326. 

Rev.  John  xMason  Neale,  D.D.,  *6S,  70.  85,  88, 
154,  158,  159,  169,  174,  189,  195,  198,216, 
244,  281,  312,  318,  323,  342,  348,  401,  438, 
479,  480,  481,  493,  502,  505,  551,  561. 

Rev.  Joiin  Xeedham,  *I27. 

Rev.  Asahel  Nettleton,  D.D.,  *353. 

Rev.  Edwin  Heniy  Nevin,  D.D.,  *327,  359. 

Rev.  John  Henry  Newman,  U.D.,  *i5,  *38o. 

Rev.  John  Newton,  *I3,  41,  49,  *5i,  52,  53,  58, 
81,  89,  *9i,  94,  *i66,  177,  *i82,  *249, 
255,  266,  298,  300,  320,  *329,  333,  336, 
355.  358.  378,  408,  *452.  468,  4S6. 

Riv.  Philip  Nicolai,  D.D.,  *2i6. 

Rev.  Gerard  Thomas  Noel,  *425. 

Miss  Marianne  Nunn,  *I59. 

Rev.  Robert  M.  Offord,  *262,  390. 

Rev.  Thomas  Olivers,  *72. 

Rev.  Henry  Ustic  Onderdonk,  D.D.,  *258,  412. 

Edward  Osier,  *425. 

Heinrich  Siegmund  Oswald,  *544. 

Rev.  Ray  Palmer,  D.D.,  *32.  52,  117,  *l83,  186, 
208,  209,  230,  255,  263,  269,  *340,  342, 
*343.  348,  403.  419.  420,  428,  *459,  470, 
471,  485,  499,  551. 

Rev.  Roswell  Park,  D.D.,  *4i6. 

Rev.  Theodore  Parker,  D.D.,  *242. 

Miss  Harriet  Parr,  *toi. 

Rev.  William  Bourne  Oliver  Peabody,  D.D., 
*458. 

Rev.  Edward  Perronet,  *2ii. 

Mrs.  Mary  Bovvly  Peters,  *98,  314. 

Johann  Wilhelm  Petersen,  *437. 

Rev.  Sylvanus  Dryden  Phelps,  D.D.,  *297,  498. 

Philip  Phillips,  *53i. 

Folliott  Sandford  Pierpoint,  *358. 

Rev.  John  Pierpont,  *33. 

Rev.  Arthur  Tappan  Pierson,  D.D.,  130. 

Rev.  Alexander  Pirie,  *2i5. 

Rev.  Edward  Hayes  Plumptre,  D.D.,  *I54,  506, 
535- 

Rev.  Thomas  Benson  Pollock,  *44i,  513. 

Rev.  William  Pollock,  D.D.,  *493. 

Alexander  Pope,  *445. 

Rev.  Elbert  Stothoff  Porter,  D.D.,  *52l. 

Rev.  Francis  Pott,  *74,  J97.  • 

Rev.  Thomas  Joseph  Potter,  *3I4. 

Mrs.  Elizabeth  Payson  Prentiss,  *296. 

Miss  Adelaide  Ann  Procter,  *84,  515,  555. 

Aurelius  Clemens  Prudentius,  *I58. 

Philip  Pusey,  *396. 

Miss  Mary  Pyper,  *I94. 

Rabanus  Maurus,  228,  *239. 


Rev.  Thomas  Raffles,  D.D.,  *365. 

George  Rawson,  *40.  232.  295,  374,  41S,  "^533. 

Rev.  Andrew  Reed,  D.D.,  *236,  252. 

Mrs.  Elizabeth  Reed,  *26i. 

Rev.  George  Riciiards,  *522. 

Mrs.  .A.nne  Richter,  *5o6. 

Martin  Rinkart,  *I30. 

Rev.  Chandler  Robbins,  D.D.,  *503. 

Rev.  Charles    Seymour   Robinson,   D.D.,  *297, 

520. 
George  Robinson,  *400. 
Rev.  Richard   Hayes  Robinson,  *92. 
Rev.  Robert  Robin.son,  *2o6,  *43r). 
Rev.  Gilbert  Rorison,  LL.D.,  *46 
Francis  Rous,  *337. 
Rev.  John  Rovve,  *435. 
Res'.  Arthur  Tozer  Kussell,  *96,  176,  1S4,  318, 

551- 
Rev.  Samuel  Rutherford,  *433.    472. 
Rev.  John  Ryland,  D.D.,  *496. 
Mrs.  Maria  Grace  Saffery,  *497. 
George  Sandys,  *502. 
Santolius  Viclorinus,  *2o8. 
Mrs.  Jane  Euphemia  Saxby,  *23i. 
Johann  Scheffler,  292,  *330,  345,  507. 
Johann  Adolf  Schlegel,  D.D.,  *I56. 
Benjamin  Schmolck,  44,  *29g,  376,  *498. 
Johann  Christoph  Schwedler,  *33i. 
Miss  Elizabeth  Scott,  *II2,  114,  546. 
Rev.  Thomas  Scott,  *20i. 
Miss  Eliza  Scudder,  *504. 
Rev.  Robert  Seagrave,  *484. 
Rev.  Edmund  Hamilton  Sears,  D.D.,*i45,  *I47. 
William  Fisk  Sherwin,  *283. 
Anna  Shipton,  *544. 
Rev.  Walter  Shirley,  *378,  435. 
William  Shrubsole,  Jr.,  *92,  457. 
Mrs.  Lydia  Huntley  Sigourney,  *232,  379,  454. 
Miss  Sarah  Slinn,  *I49. 
Rev.  John  Morrison  Sloan,  *I56. 
Mrs.  Elizabeth  Lee  Smith,  *528. 
Rev.  Joseph  Denham  Smith,  *2S2. 
Rev.    Samuel    Francis   Smith,    D.D.,   *27,    35, 

*348,  *449.  *49i.  *497. 
Rev.  Carl   Johann    Philipp   Spilta,   D.D.,   100, 

285,  *344. 
Rev.    Charles    Haddon    Spurgeon,   *I28,  *234, 

*354- 
Joseph  Stammers,  *54l. 
Rev.  Arthur  Penrhyn  Stanley,  D.D.,  *200,  240, 

467. 
Charles  Stanley,  ^248. 
Miss  Anne  Steele,  *20,  51.  80.  107,   117,  *I26, 

137,  165,  167,  195,  239,  250,  277,  *28o,  300, 

339.  *353.  368,  420,  444,  559- 
Rev.  Joseph  Stennett,  D.D.,  *io,  337. 
Rev.   Samuel    Stennett,   D.D.,   *22,   168,   *I79, 

188,  277,  359,  477- 
Stephen  the  Sabaite,  *3I2. 
Thomas  Sternhold,  *I23. 
John  Stewart,  *9. 
John  Stocker,  *237. 


INDEX    OF    AUTHORS. 


569 


Mrs.  Martha  Matilda  Stockton,  *248. 

Rev.  Samuel  John  Stone,  *265,  266,  427. 

Mrs.  Harriet  Beecher  Stowe,  *5i6,  527. 

Rev.  Hugh  Stowell,  *47. 

Rev.  Nathan  Strong,  D.D.,  *486. 

Rev.  Joseph  Swain,  *3I3,  320,  403. 

Rev.  Leonard  Swain,  D.D.,  *30g. 

Andrew  James  Symington,  *io2. 

Rev.  William  Bingham  Tappan,  *I79,  473. 

Nahum  Tate,  *I22,  146,  228,  354. 

John  Taylor,  *i88. 

Mrs.  Rebekah  Hope  Taylor,  *I76. 

Rev.  Thomas  Rawson  Taylor,  *294,  524. 

Gerhard  Tersteegen,  64,  74,  *25g. 

Theoctistus  of  the  Studium,  *342. 

Theodolphus,  *I74. 

Thomas  of  Aquino,  *432,  439. 

Thomas  of  Celano,  *467,  468. 

Rev.  John  Thomson,  *75. 

Rev.  Alexander  Ramsay  Thompson,  D.D.,  *432. 

Rev.  Godfrey  Th ring, *45,  153, 177,273,  304,  316. 

Mrs.  Emma  Leslie  Toke,  *ig9. 

Rev.  Augustus  Montague  Toplady,  *275,  308, 
371,  414,  *4i5. 

Rev.  Samuel  Prideaux  Tregelles,  LL.D.,  *2I9, 
321. 

Rev.  Daniel  Turner,  199,  *35i. 

Rev.  Lawrence  Tuttiett,  *530,  532. 

Rev.  Henry  Twells,  *5oo. 

Mrs.  Yokes,  *397,  454. 

Mrs.  Amelia  Wakeford,  *i62. 

Miss  Anna  L.  Walker,  *39i. 

Mrs.  Mary  Jane  Walker,  *2io,  282. 

Rev.  James  Cowden  Wallace,  *50. 

Johann  Walther,  *220. 

Rev.  Ralph  Wardlaw,  D.D.,  *67,  330. 

Miss  Anna  Lsetitia  Waring,  *30i,  315,  537. 

George  Watson,  *556. 

Rev.  Isaac  Watts,  D.D.,  *6,  g,  10,  *li,  12,  15, 
16,  17,  18,  20,  21,  23,  25,  37,  39,  59,  60, 
61,  62,  63,  *65,  66,  67,  74,  75,  80,  8t,  83, 
88,  *io3,  104,  106,  *io8,  109,  113,  118,  121, 
122,  125,   126,   127,   134,  *r36,   *I37,    133, 


*I39,  143,  148,  173,  180,  *i83,  184,  ig6, 
207,  209,  211,  212,  213,  221,  229,  231,  237, 
243,  *245,  246,  247,  249,  252,  265,  278, 
279.  307.  309,  319.  333.  335,  336,  330-  353, 
355.  *356.  360,  *36i,  362,  363,  367,  369, 
372,  396.  397.  398.  404.  406,  418,  420,  421, 
422.  423,  426,  442,  443,  444,  445,  *455,  458, 
460,  461,  478,  *487,  537. 

Michael  Weisse.  *I9I. 

Rev.  Cliarles  Wesley,  *I7,  21,  28,  42,  *67,  71, 
141,  147,  *i88,  190,  194,  210,  214,  217, 
*2i8,  223,  246,  251,  257,  278.  280,  *28S, 
291,  *292,  *305,  344,  *352,  367,  396,  404. 
406,  407,  415,  424,  427,  437,  502,  *5ii,  512, 
524,  526,  *53g. 

Rev.  John  Wesley,  *63,  *64,  *83,  *io7,  306, 
309.  345.  346,  423- 

Henry  Kirke  White,  *I23,  *I44,  525. 

Rev.  Frederick  Whitfield,  *i68,  431,  514. 

William  Whiting,  *490. 

Lady  Lucy  Elizabeth  Georgiana  Whitmore,  *36. 

John  Greenleaf  Whittier,  *i66,  *263,  391,  519, 

54Q. 
Miss  Helen  Maria  Williams,  *ii8. 
Rev.  Isaac  Williams,  *83.  *272. 
Rev.  William  Williams,  *322,  450. 
Miss  Ellen  H.  Willis,  *364. 
Richard  Storrs  Willis,  *I70. 
Mrs.  Caroline  Fry  Wilson,  *342. 
Miss  Catharine  Winkworth,  *44,  95,  129,  130, 

156,  191,  216,  335,  359-  366,  394,  465.476. 

498,  507,  525- 
Rev.  Samuel  Wolcott,  D.D.,  *40,  *203,  *453. 
Rev.  Aaron  Robarts  Wolfe,  *36o.  422,  426,  550. 
Rev.  James  Russell  Woodford,   D.D.,  *8i,  215, 

439- 
Rev.   Christopher  Wordsworth,  D.D.,  *3i,   98, 

141,  193.  205,  232,  304,  395.  475.  551,  553- 
Rev.  Denis  Wortman,  D.D.,  *56o. 
Rev.  John  Reynell  Wreford,  D.D.,  *349,  487. 
Francis  Xavier,  *533. 
J.  Young,  *I37. 
Count  von  Zinzendorf,  *3o6,  *3i8,  423. 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES. 


PAGE 

A  broken  heart,  my  God,  my  King  ......     iyb 

A  charge  to  keep  I  have.    . .    ^46 

A  few  more  years  shall  roll 464 

A  mighty  fortress  is  our  God 401 

A  mother  may  forgetful  be 444 

A  parting  hymn  we  sing .   426 

A  pilgrim  through  this  lonely  world 163 

Abide  in  thee,  in  that  deep  love  of  thine. . .   23l 

Abide  with  me  ;  fast  falls  the  eventide 99 

According  to  thy  gracious  word 424 

Acquaint  thyself  quickly,  O  sinner 261 

Again,  as  evening's  shadow  falls ■    77 

Again  our  earthly  cares  we  leave 13 

Again  returns  the  day  of  holy  rest -     35 

Alas  !  and  did  my  Saviour  bleed 1S3 

Alas  !  what  hourly  dangers  rise  ! 300 

All  glory,  laud,  and  honor 174 

All  hail  the  power  of  Jesus'  name 211 

All  holy,  everliving  One 133 

All  is  o'er,  the  pain,  the  sorrow 187 

All  my  heart  this  night  rejoices 156 

All  people  that  on  earth  do  dwell 60 

All  praise  to  thee,  eternal  Lord 142 

All  things  are  ours;  how  abundant 370 

All  unseen  the  Master  walketh 549 

Almighty  God,  thy  w»rd  is  cast 82 

Almighty  Lord,  the  sun  shall  fail 104 

Along  my  earthly  way 370 

Always  with  us,  always  with  us 327 

Am  I  a  soldier  of  the  cross 307 

Amazing  grace!  how  sweet  the  sound 248 

And  are  we  yet  alive 406 

And  canst  thou,  sinner  !  slight 259 

And  dost  thou  say,  "  Ask  what  thou 49 

And  is  there.  Lord,  a  rest 470 

And  is  the  time  approaching 448 

And  will  the  Judge  descend 224 

And  wilt  thou  hear,  O  Lord 244  . 

Angel  voices,  ever  singing 73 

Angels,  from  the  realms  of  glory 152 

Angels  holy,  high  and  lowly 73 

Angels!  roll  the  rock  away ,   201 

Another  day  is  past  and  gone 82 

Another  six  days'  work  is  done 10 

Approach,  my  soul  !  the  mercy-seat 51 

Arise,  my  soul,  arise 251 

Arise,  O  King  of  grace  !  arise ig 

Arise,  ye  saints,  arise 310 

Arm  these  thy  soldiers,  mighty  Lord 551 

Art  thou  weary,  art  thou  languid 312 

As  oft  with  worn  and  weary  feet 344 


PAGE 

As  pants  the  hart  for  cooling  streams 289 

As  pants  the  wearied  hart  for  cooling 36 

As  shadows  cast  by  cloud  and  sun 160 

As  the  hart,  with  eager  looks 29 

As  with  gladness  men  of  old 141 

Ascend  thy  throne,  almighty  King 455 

Ask  ye  what  great  thing  I  know 331 

A.sleep  in  Jesus  !  blessed  sleep  ! 461 

Assembled  at  thy  great  command 454 

At  evening  time  let  there  be  ligbt 379 

At  even,  when  the  sun  was  set 499 

At  the  Lamb's  high  feast  we  sing 429 

At  thy  command,  our  dearest  Lord 418 

Awake,  and  sing  the  song 23 

Awake,  awake,  O  Zion 226 

Awake,  my  iieart !  arise,  my  tongue 212 

Awake,  my  soul,  and  with  the  sun 12 

Awake,  my  soul,  stretch  every  nerve 306 

Awake,  my  soul,  to  joyful  lays 250 

Awake,  our  souls  !  away,  our  fears  ! 319 

Awake,  ye  saints,  awake  ! 39 

Away  from  earth  my  spirit  turns  420 

Be  still,  my  heart !  these  anxious 378 

Be  tranquil,  O  my  soul! 377 

Before  Jehovah's  awful  throne 59 

Before  the  heavens  were  spread  abroad. . . .   143 

Before  the  throne  of  God  above 208 

Begin,  my  tongue,  some  heavenly 126 

Behold  a  Stranger  at  the  door ! 259 

Behold,  the  Bridegroom  cometh  in 46S 

Behold  the  Lamb  of  God  ! 514 

Behold,  the  mountain  of  the  Lord 221 

Behold,  the  shade  of  night  is  now 499 

Behold  the  throne  of  grace   58 

Behold  the  western  evening  light  ! 457 

Behold  !  what  wondrous  grace 367 

Behold,  where,  in  a  mortal  form 163 

Bending  before  thee,  let  our  hymn 499 

Beneath  our  feet  and  o'er  our  head 458 

Beneath  tliy  wing,  O  God,  I  rest 537 

Beyond  the  smiling  and  the  weeping 471 

Beyond  the  starry  skies 199 

Bless,  O  my  soul !  the  living  God 11 

Blessed  angels,  high  in  heaven 537 

Blessed  are  the  sons  of  God 357 

Blessed  city,  heavenly  Salem 401 

Blessed  fountain,  full  of  grace 328 

Blessed  Saviour  !  thee  I  love 274 

Blessing,  and  honor,  and  glory,  and 69 

Blest  are  the  hund)le  souls  that  see 537 


INDEX    OF    FIRST    LINES. 


571 


PAGE 

Blest  are  the  pure  in  heart 534 

Blest  are  the  sons  of  peace 406 

Blest  are  the  souls  that  hear  and  know 83 

Blest  be  the  dear,  uniting  love 351 

Blest  be  the  tie  that  binds 407 

Blest  be  thy  love,  dear  Lord 552 

Blest  Comforter  divine 232 

Blest  feast  of  love  divine 427 

Blest  is  the  man  whose  softening  heart. . . .   387 
Blest  Jesus  !  when  my  soaring  thoughts. . . .   332 

Blest  Trinity  !  from  mortal  sight 133 

Blow  ye  the  trumpet,  blow 251 

Book  of  grace,  and  book  of  glory. 503 

Bread  of  heaven  !   on  thee  we  feed 429 

Bread  of  the  world,  in  mercy  broken 430 

Break  thou  the  bread  of  life 103 

Breast  the  wave.  Christian,  when  it  is 541 

Brethren,  while  we  sojourn  here 320 

Bride  of  the  Lamb,  awake,  awake 220 

Brief  life  is  here  our  portion 481 

Brightest  and  best  of  the  sons  of  the 155 

Brightly  gleams  our  banner 314 

Buried  in  baptism  with  our  Lord 494 

By  Christ  redeemed,  in  Christ  restored. . . .  417 

By  cool  Siloam's  shady  rill 412 

By  faith  in  Christ  I  walk  with  God 355 

By  the  cross  of  Jesus  standing „ 432 

Call  Jehovah  thy  salvation 280 

Calm  me,  my  God,  and  keep  me  calm 349 

Calm  on  the  listening  ear  of  night 147 

Can  sinners  hope  for  heaven • 245 

Cast  thy  bread  upon  the  waters 384 

Cast  thy  burden  on  the  Lord 374 

Chief  of  sinners  though  I  be 276 

Children  of  light,  arise  and  shine 191 

Children  of  the  heavenly  King 321 

Chosen  not  for  good  in  me 298 

Christ,  above  all  glory  seated 215 

Christ  for  the  world  we  sing 202 

Christ  is  born;   tell  forth  his  fame 154 

Christ  is  coming  !  let  creation 219 

Clirist  is  made  the  sure  foundation 400 

Christ  is  our  Corner-slone 399 

Christ  is  risen  !  Christ  is  risen  ! 194 

Christ,  of  all  my  hopes  the  Ground 330 

Christ  the  Lord  is  risen  again 191 

Christ,  the  Lord,  is  risen  to-day,  Our 2or 

Christ,  the  Lord,  is  risen  to-day.  Sons 190 

Christ,  to  thee,  with  God  the  Father 502 

Christ,  whose  glory  fills  the  skies 27 

Christian,  dost  thou  see  them 318 

Christian,  seek  not  yet  repose 312 

Christian,  work  for  Jesus 517 

Christians,  awake  !  salute  the  happy 157 

Christians,  up  !  the  day  is  breaking 521 

Church  of  the  ever-living  God 403 

Come,  behold  a  great  expedient 256 

Come,  blessed  Spirit,  source  of  light 237 

Come,  Desire  of  nations,  come 511 

Come,  every  pious  heart 188 

Come,  gracious  Lord,  descend  and 6 

Come,  gracious  Spirit,  heavenly  Dove 238 


PAGE 

Come,  happy  souls,  adore  the  Lamb 494 

Come,  Holy  Ghost,  Creator,  come 228 

Come,  Holy  Ghost !  in  love 229 

Come,  Holy  Ghost,  my  soul  inspire 353 

Come,  Holy  Ghost  !  our  hearts  inspire 512 

Come,  Holy  Spirit !  calm  my  mind 9 

Come,  Holy  Spirit,  come.  Let 233 

Come,  Holy  Spirit,  come,  With 235 

Come,  Holy  Spirit,  Dove  divine 495 

Come,  Holy  Spirit,  from  above 240 

Cohie,  Holy  Spirit,  heavenly  dove 230 

Come,  Jesus,  from  the  sapphire  throne 551 

Come,  Jesus,  Redeemer,  abide  thou 342 

Come  join,  ye  saints,  with  heart  and 193 

Come,  kingdom  of  our  God 223 

Come,  let  us  join  our  cheerful  songs 211 

Come,  let  us  join  our  songs  of  praise 214 

Come,  let  us  lift  our  joyful  eyes 213 

Come,  let  us  sing  the  song  of  songs 209 

Come,  Lord,  and  tarry  not 223 

Come,  my  soul,  thou  must  be  waking 43 

Come,  my  soul,  thy  suit  prepare 53 

Come,  O  Creator  Spirit  blest 237 

Come,  O  my  soul !   in  sacred  lays 63 

Come,  O  thou  Traveler  unknown  ! 525 

Come,  pure  hearts,  in  sweetest 40 

Come,  said  Jesus'  sacred  voice 515 

Come,  sacred  Spirit,  from  above 237 

Come,  see  the  place  where  Jesus  lay 191 

Come,  sound  his  praise  abroad 59 

Come,  Spirit,  source  of  light 235 

Come,  thou  Almighty  King 140 

Come,  thou  Desire  of  all  thy  Saints 20 

Come,  thou  everlasting  Spirit 436 

Come,  thou  Fount  of  eveiy  blessing 436 

Come,  thou  long-expected  Jesus 217 

Come  thou,  oh,  come 512 

Come,  thou  soul-transforming  Spirit 34 

Come,  thou  who  dost  the  soul  endue 254 

Come  to  Calvary's  holy  mountain 257 

"  Come  unto  me,  ye  weary 175 

Come,  we  who  love  the  Lord 23 

Come,  ye  disconsolate,  where'er 256 

Come,  ye  thankful  people,  come 485 

Come,  ye  that  know  and  fear  the  Lord. . . .  120 

Complete  in  thee,  no  work  of  mine 360 

Creator  Spirit,  by  whose  aid 238 

Cross,  reproach,  and    tribulation 437 

Crown  him  with  many  crowns 199 

Crown  his  head  with  endless  blessing 207 

Daily,  daily  sing  the  praises 475 

Darker  than  night  life's  shadows  fall 558 

Daughter  of  Zion  !  awake  from  thy 155 

Day  by  day  the  manna  fell 542 

Day  is  dying  in  the  West 90 

Day  of  judgment !  day  of  wonders  ! 468 

Day  of  wrath,  oh,  dreadful  day 467 

Days  ami  moments  quickly  flying 491 

Dear  Father,  to  thy  mercy-seat 51 

Dear  Lord,  amid  the  throng  that 420 

Dear  Lord  and  Father  of  mankind 519 

Dear  Lord  and  Master  mine 334 


572 


INDEX    OF    FIRST    LINES. 


f 


PAGE 

Dear  Refuge  of  my  weary  soul 339 

Dear  Saviour,  if  these  lambs  should 413 

Dear  Saviour  !  we  are  thine 405 

Delay  not,  delay  not ;  O  sinner,  draw 261 

Depth  of  mercy  !   can  there  be 291 

Descend  from  heaven,  celestial  Dove 241 

Did  Christ  o'er  sinners  weep   259 

Dismiss  me  not  thy  service,  Lord 550 

Dismiss  us  with  thy  blessing,  Lord 81 

Do  not  I  love  thee,  O  my  Lord 332 

Draw  near,  O  Holy  Dove,  draw  near 422 

Draw  nigh  and  take  the  body  of  your 438 

Draw  nigh,  draw  nigh,  Immanuel 216 

Drawn  to  the  cross,  which  thou  hast 517 

Early,  my  God,  without  delay 15 

Earth  below  is  teeming 492 

Earth  has  nothing  sweet  or  fair 330 

Earth's  transitory  things  decay 361 

Eternal  Father  !  strong  to  save 490 

Eternal  Father,  when  to  thee 143 

Eternal  Liglit !  eternal  Light  253 

Eternal  Source  of  every  joy 1 1 5 

Eternal  Spirit,  God  of  truth 229 

Eternal  Spirit,  we  confess 237 

Eternal  Sun  of  righteousness 21 

Everlasting  arms  of  love 321 

Every  morning  mercies  new 29 

Fairest  Lord  Jesus  I  Ruler  of  all  nature. . . .  170 

Faith  adds  new  charms  to  earthly  bliss.  . .  .  350 

Far  as  thy  name  is  known 398 

Far  from  my  heavenly  home 543 

Far  from  my  thoughts,  vain  world g 

Far  from  the  world,  O  Lord,  I  flee 54 

Far  o'er  yon  horizon 317 

Father,  again  in  Jesus'  name  we  meet 36 

Father,  by  thy  love  and  power 55 

Father,  hear  the  blood  of  Jesus 194 

Father,  hear  the  prayer  we  offer 384 

Father  !  how  wide  thy  glory  shines 125 

Father,  I  know  that  ail  my  life 301 

Father,  in  high  heaven  dwelling 40 

Father !  in  thy  mysterious  presence 98 

Father,  my  cup  is  full  ! 544 

Father  of  all,  from  land  and  sea 395 

Father  of  heaven,  whose  love  profound. ...  112 

Father  of  love,  our  Guide  and  Friend 523 

Father  of  mercies  !  in  thy  word 107 

Father  of  mercies!   send  thy  grace 386 

Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost 415 

Father,  thy  name  be  praised,  thy 96 

Father  !  whate'er  of  earthly  bliss 353 

Father  !  whose  hand  hath  led  me  so 285 

Fear  not,  O  little  flock,  the  foe 394 

Fierce  raged  the  tempest  o'er  the  deep. . .  .  316 

Fierce  was  the  wild  billow 493 

Fight  the  good  fight  with  all  thy  might.  . . .  531 

Firm  as  the  earth  thy  p^ospel  stands 363 

Fling  out  the  banner  :  let  it  float 555 

For  a  season  called  to  part 91 

For  all  thy  saints,  O  Lord 465 

For  all  thy  saints,  who  from  their 409 


lAGE 

"  For  ever  with  the  Lord  !  " 462 

For  me  to  live  is  Christ 524 

For  the  beauty  of  the  earth 358 

For  the  mercies  of  the  day ■. 89 

For  thee,  O  dear,  dear  Countr)' 479 

For  what  shall  I  praise  thee,  my  God 342 

Forsake  me  not !  O  thou,  my  Lord 57 

Forward!    be  our  watchword 316 

Fount  of  all  our  joy  and  peace 498 

Fountain  of  grace,  rich,  full,  and  free    ....    367 

Friend  of  sinners  !  Lord  of  glory 217 

From  all  that  dwell  below  the  skies 62 

From  every  stormy  wind  that  blows 47 

From  Greenland's  icy  mountains 446 

From  Sinai's  cloud  of  darkness 507 

From  the  cross  uplifted  high 273 

Frnm  the  recesses  of  a  lowly  spirit 96 

From  the  table  now  retiring   435 

From  the  vast  and  vailed  throng 502 

Gently,  Lord,  oh,  gently  lead  us 94 

Give  to  the  Lord,  ye  sons  of  fame 63 

Give  to  the  winds  thy  fears 308 

Give  us  our  daily  bread 555 

Glorious  things  of  thee  are  spoken 408 

Glory  be  to  God  on  high 71 

Gloiy  be  to  God  the  Father 33 

Glory,  glory  to  our  King 204 

Glory  to  God  on  high 202 

Glory  to  God  !  whose  witness-train 306 

Glory  to  thee,  my  God,  this  night 78 

Go,  labor  on  ;  spend  and  be  spent 546 

Go,  labor  on,  while  it  is  day 392 

Go  to  dark  Gethsemane 187 

Go  to  the  grave  in  all  thy  glorious 466 

Go,  tune  thy  voice  to  sacred  song 254 

God  Almighty  and  All-seeing 33 

God  calling  yet  I  shall  I  not  hear 259 

God  eternal,  Lord  of  all 71 

God,  in  the  gospel  of  his  Son 103 

God  is  in  his  holy  temple 35 

God  is  love  ;  his  mercy  brightens 76 

God  is  the  refuge  of  his  saints 442 

God  loved  the  world  of  sinners  lost 248 

God  moves  in  a  mysterious  way 127 

God,  my  King,  thy  might  confessing 76 

God  of  my  life  !  thy  boundless  grace 270 

God  of  my  life,  to  thee  belong 112 

God  of  our  s.alvation  !  hear  us 95 

God  of  pity,  God  of  grace 286 

God  of  the  prophets'  power 502 

God  of  the  world  !  thy  glories  shine 131 

God  reveals  his  presence 74 

God,  that  madest  earth  and  heaven 100 

God  with  us  !  oh,  glorious  name 149 

God's  glory  is  a  wondrous  thing 522 

Golden  harps  are  sounding  .      197 

Goodly  were  thy  tents,  O  Israel  ! 453 

Grace  !  'tis  a  charming  sound  ! 365 

Gracious  .Saviour,  thus  before  thee 102 

Gracious  Spirit,  dwell  with  me 230 

Gracious  Spirit.  Holy  Ghost   232 

Gracious  Spirit,  Love  divine 236 


INDEX    OF    FIRST    LINES. 


573 


PAGE 

Grant  us  thy  light,  that  we  may  know 532 

Great  Creator  !  who  tliis  day 140 

Great  God!  attend,  while  Zion  sings 9 

Great  God,  how  infinite  art  thou 121 

Great  God,  now  condescend 412 

Great  God!  to  thee  my  evening  song So 

Great  God!  we  sing  that  mighty  hand 4S9 

Great  God,  what  do  I  see  and  hear ! 468 

Great  God,  wlien  I  approach  thy. 250 

Great  God!  whose  universal 443 

Great  is  the  Lord  our  God 397 

Great  Sun  of  Righteousness,  arise 104 

Guide  me,  O  thou  great  Jehovali 322 

Hail,  happy  day  !  thou  day  of  holy  rest. ...  36 

Hail,  Holy  Spirit,  bright  immortal 241 

Hail,  sacred  day  of  earthly  rest 45 

Hail  the  day  that  sees  tiim  rise 190 

Hail  the  night,  all  hail  the  morn I49 

Hail!  thou  God  of  grace  and  glory 409 

Hail,  thou  once  despised  Jesus 193 

Hail  to  the  brightness  of  Zion's  glad 452 

Hail  to  the  Lord's  anointed   448 

Hail  to  the  Sabbath  day  ! 24 

Hail,  tranquil  hour  of  closing  day 500 

Hallelujah!  best  and  sweetest 451 

Hallelujah!  fairest  morning 44 

Hallelujaii!  hallelujah! 193 

Hallelujah!  sing  to  Jesus 509 

Hark,  hark,  my  soul  !  angelic  songs  are.. . .  466 

Hark!  my  soul!  it  is  the  Lord 428 

Hark!   ten  thousand  harps  and  voices 204 

Hark!  the  herald  angels  sing 147 

Hark,  the  hosts  of  heaven  are  singing 153 

Hark!  the  song  of  Jubilee 228 

Hark!  the  sound  of  angel-voices 453 

Hark!  the  sound  of  holy  voices 475 

Hark!  the  voice  of  Jesus  calling 548 

Hark!  the  voice  of  love  and  mercy 181 

Hark!  't  is  the  watchman's  cry 219 

Hark!  what  mean  those  holy  voices 154 

Hasten,  Lord  !  the  glorious  time 228 

He  comes  in  blood-stained  garments 473 

He  gave  me  back  the  bond 248 

He  has  come  !  the  Christ  of  God 148 

He  is  coming,  he  is  coming 216 

He  is  gone — a  cloud  of  light 200 

He  is  here,  whom  seers  in  old  time 159 

He  lives  !  the  great  Redeemer  lives 195 

He  that  goeth  forth  with  weeping 385 

He  that  hath  made  his  refuge  God 360 

He,  who  once  in  righteous  vengeance  .    ...  256 

Heal  me,  O  my  Saviour,  heal 273 

Hear  my  prayer,  O  heavenly  Father loi 

Hear  what  God  the  Lord  hath  spoken 408 

Heavenly  Father,  grant  thy  blessing 102 

Heavenly  Shepherd,  guide  us,  feed  us 503 

Help  me,  my  God,  to  speak 535 

Here  I  can  firmly  rest 366 

Here,  O  my  Lord,  I  see  thee  face  to 439 

Here  the  King  hath  spread  his  table 432 

High  in  the  heavens,  eternal  God! 65 


PAGE 

Holy  and  infinite  !  viewless  !  eternal  ! 369 

Holy  and  reverend  is  the  name 127 

Holy  Father,  cheer  our  way 92 

Holy  Father,  hear  my  cry 12S 

Holy  Father,  thou  hast  taught  me 281 

Holy  Father!  we  address  thee 97 

Holy  Ghost,  the  Infinite 232 

Holy  Ghost!  with  light  divine 236 

Holy,  holy,  holy.  Lord  God  Almighty 66 

Holy,  holy,  holy.  Lord  God  of  Hosts 129 

Holy,  holy,  holy,  Lord 141 

Holy  night!  peaceful  night 15S 

Holy  offerings,  rich  and  rare 287 

Holy  Saviour!  we  adore  thee 219 

Holy  Spirit,  come  and  shine 239 

Holy  Spirit!  gently  come 236 

Holy  Spirit,  in  my  breast 236 

Holy  Spirit,  Lord  of  Light 240 

Honor  and  glory,  thanksgiving  and 69 

Hope  of  our  hearts,  O  Lord,  appear 221 

Hosanna!  raise  the  pealing  hymn 212 

Hosanna  to  the  living  Lord 207 

How  are  thy  servants  blest,  O  Lord 12S 

How  beauteous  are  their  feet 396 

How  beauteous  on  the  mountains 447 

How  beauteous  were  the  marks  divine 171 

How  blest  the  righteous  when  he  dies 461 

How  brightly  shines  the  Morning  Star!. ...  156 

How  charming  is  the  place 21 

How  condescending  and  how  kind 1S3 

How  did  my  heart  rejoice  to  hear 16 

How  firm  a  foundation,  ye  saints  of  the  ...  310 

How  gentle  God's  commands 84 

How  helpless  guilty  nature  lies 247 

How  long,  O  Lord,  our  Saviour.  , 516 

How  pleasant,  how  divinely  fair 9 

How  pleased  and  blest  was  1 39 

How  precious  is  the  book  divine 107 

How  sad  our  state  by  nature  is 247 

How  shall  I  follow  him  I  serve 172 

How  shall  the  young  secure  their 106 

How  sweet  and  awful  is  the  place 423 

How  sweet,  how  heavenly  is  the  siglit 403 

How  sweet  the  name  of  Jesus  sounds 333 

How  sweet  to  leave  the  world  awhile 8 

How  sweetly  flowed  the  gospel  sound 171 

How  tender  is  thy  hand 372 

How  vain  is  all  beneath  the  skies 459 

I  am  coming  to  the  cross 520 

I  am  trusting  thee.  Lord  Jesus 364 

I  ask  not  now  for  gold  to  gild 263 

I  bless  the  Christ  of  God 357 

I  build  on  this  foundation 1 75 

I  cannot  tell  if  short  or  long 382 

I  cannot  think  of  them  as  dead 559 

I  could  not  do  without  thee 529 

I  do  not  ask  that  life  may  be 515 

1  feed  by  faith  on  Christ;  my  bread 419 

I  hear  a  sweet  voice  ringing  clear 519 

I  hear  the  words  of  love 425 

I  hear  thy  welcome  voice 517 


574 


INDEX    OF    FIRST    LINES. 


PAGE 

I  heard  the  voice  of  Jesus  say 165 

I  hunger  and  I  thirst 555 

I  journey  through  a  desert  drear  and 282 

I  know  no  life  divided 343 

I  Icnow  that  my  Redeemer  lives 214 

I  lay  my  sins  on  Jesus 431 

I  left  it  all  with  Jesus  long  ago 364 

I  lift  my  heart  to  thee 553 

I  love  tiiee,  O  my  God,  but  not 533 

I  love  thy  kingdom,  Lord! 397 

I  love  to  steal  awhile  away 49 

I  love  to  tell  the  story 514 

I  '11  praise  my  Maker  with  my  breath 62 

I  'm  not  ashamed  to  own  my  Lord 307 

I  need  thee,  precious  Jesus 431 

I  saw  One  hanging  on  a  tree 182 

I  saw  the  cross  of  Jesus 514 

I  see  a  man  at  God's  right  hand 212 

I  sing  the  almighty  power  of  God 125 

I  stand  on  Zion's  mount 313 

I  think  of  thee,  my  God,  by  night 532 

I  want  a  heart  to  pray 501 

I  will  sing  for  Jesus 530 

If  God  is  mine,  then  present  things 362 

If  human  kindness  meets  return 424 

If,  through  unruffled  seas 371 

If  you  cannot  on  the  ocean  , 548 

In  all  my  Lord's  appointed  ways 496 

In  all  my  vast  concerns  with  thee 121 

In  heavenly  love  abiding 315 

In  the  cross  of  Christ  I  glory 417 

In  the  dark  and  cloudy  day 374 

In  the  hour  of  trial 303 

In  the  name  of  God,  the  Father 554 

In  thy  name,  O  Lord!  assembling 34 

In  us  the  hope  of  glory 511 

Is  there  ambition  in  my  heart? 352 

It  came  upon  the  midnight  clear 145 

It  is  no  untried  way 390 

It  is  not  death  to  die 464 

It  may  not  be  our  lot  to  wield 391 

I  've  found  the  Pearl  of  greatest  price 527 

Jehovah  God!  thy  gracious  power 75 

Jehovah  reigns;  his  throne  is  high 134 

Jerusalem!  my  happy  home! 478 

Jerusalem,  the  glorious! 480 

Jerusalem,  the  golden 481 

Jesus,  all  our  ransom  paid 441 

Jesus, — all  thy  labor  vast 441 

Jesus,  and  didst  thou  condescend 163 

Jesus, — and  didst  thou  leave  the  sky 250 

Jesus!  and  shall  it  ever  be 34S 

Jesus,  at  whose  supreme  command 424 

Jesus,  blessed  Mediator! 476 

Jesus  calls  us,  o'er  the  tumult 416 

Jesus  came,  the  heavens  adoring 153 

Jesus  comes,  his  conflict  over. 203 

Jesus,  guide  our  way 317 

Jesus,  hail,  enthroned  in  glory 194 

Jesus,  heed  me,  lost  and  dying 262 


I'AGK 

Jesus,  I  live  to  thee 534 

Jesus!  I  love  thy  charming  name 333 

Jesus,  I  my  cross  have  taLen 434 

Jesus,  in  thy  dying  Avoes 441 

Jesus,  in  thy  thirst  and  pain 441 

Jesus  invites  his  saints 426 

Jesus  is  God !  The  glorious  bands 160 

Jesus  is  gone  above  the  skies 422 

Jesus,  Jesus!  visit  me 292 

Jesus,  Lamb  of  God,  for  me 186 

Jesus  lives!  no  longer  now 466 

Jesus,  Lord  of  life  and  glory ,    303 

Jesus,  Lover  of  my  soul 292 

Jesus,  loving  to  the  end 441 

Jesus,  Master!  hear  me  now 430 

Jesus,  Master,  whose  I  am 274 

Jesus,  my  All,  to  heaven  is  gone 195 

Jesus,  my  great  High  Priest 252 

Jesus,  my  Lord,  my  God,  my  all 346 

Jesus,  my  Saviour!  look  on  me 270 

Jesus,  name  all  names  above 341 

Jesus!  name  of  wondrous  love! 329 

"  Jesus  only! "  In  the  shadow 325 

Jesus  only,  when  the  morning 326 

Jesus!  our  best  beloved  Friend 545 

Jesus,  our  faith  increase 405 

Jesus,  our  Lord,  how  rich  thy  grace 388 

Jesus,  pitying  the  sighs 441 

Jesus,  Saviour,  pilot  me 302 

Jesus  shall  reign  where'er  the  sun 455 

Jesus,  Shepherd  of  the  sheep 262 

Jesus  spreads  his  banner  o'er  us 416 

Jesus,  still  lead  on 31S 

Jesus,  the  sinner's  Friend,  to  thee 27  j 

Jesus! — the  veiy  thought  is  sweet 347 

Jesus,  the  very  thought  of  thee 334 

Jesus,  these  eyes  have  never  seen 340 

Jesus!  thou  art  the  sinner's  Friend 423 

Jesus,  thou  everlasting  King 420 

Jesus,  thou  Joy  of  loving  hearts 34& 

Jesus,  thou  source  of  calm  repose 344 

Jesus,  thy  Blood  and  Righteousness 423 

Jesus,  thy  boundless  love  to  me 346 

Jesus!  thy  church,  with  longing  eyes 454 

Jesus!  thy  love  shall  we  forget.. . , 165 

Jesus,  thy  name  I  love 343 

Jesus,  to  thy  table  led 434 

Jesus,  we  look  to  thee 407 

Jesus,  we  thus  obey 427 

Jesus  wept!   lliose  tears  are  over 178 

Jesus,  whelmed  in  fears  unknown 441 

Jesus,  where'er  tJiy  people  meet 48 

Jesus,  wliile  he  dwelt  below 186 

Jesus,  who  can  be 52I 

Jesus,  who  died  a  world  to  save 191 

Jesus,  who  knows  full  well 58' 

Jesus,  who  on  Calvary's  mountain 435 

Jesus,  who  on  his  glorious  throne 336 

Jesus,  whom  angel  hosts  adore iSo- 

Joy  to  the  world;  the  Lord  is  come 148 

Joyful  be  the  hours  to-day 19O 

Just  as  I  am,  without  one  plea 264 


INDEX    OF    FIRST    LINES. 


575 


PAGE 

Keep  silence,  all  created  things I22 

Keep  us,  Lord,  oh,  keep  us  ever 95 

Laboring  and  heavy-laden 526 

Lamb  of  God  !  thou  now  art  seated 205 

Lead,  kindly  Light !  amid  the 380 

Lead  us,  heavenly  Father,  lead  us 322 

Lead  us,  O  Father,  in  the  paths  of 284 

Leaning  on  thee,  my  guide  and  friend 271 

Let  me  but  hear  my  Saviour  say 369 

Let  no  tears  to-day  be  shed 558 

Let  party  names  no  more ...  407 

Let  saints  below  in  concert  sing 404 

Let  the  church  new  anthems  raise 323 

Let  thy  wondrous  way  be  known 512 

Let  us  awake  our  joys '.....  202 

Let  us  love  and  sing  and  wonder 255 

Let  worldly  minds  the  world  pursue 166 

Let  Zion  and  her  sons  rejoice 444 

Life  of  the  world  !  I  hail  thee 186 

Lift  up  to  God  the  voice  of  praise 67 

Light  of  life,  seraphic  Fire 42 

Light  of  Light,  enlighten  me 498 

Light  of  the  lonely  pilgrim's  heart  ! 222 

lyight  of  the  world  !  whose  kind  and 542 

Light  of  those  whose  dreary  dwelling 218 

Light,  that  from  the  dark  abyss 512 

Like  sheep  we  went  astray 245 

Like  the  eagle,  upward,  onward 382 

Lo,  God  is  here  !  let  us  adore 63 

Lo,  he  comes,  with  clouds  descending 509 

Lo,  the  day  of  rest  declineth 503 

Lo  !  what  a  glorious  sight  appears 221 

Long  as  the  darkening  cloud  abode 522 

Look  from  thy  sphere  of  endless  day 444 

Look  to  Jesus  !  till  reviving 324 

Look,  ye  saints,  the  sight  is  glorious 218 

Lord,  as  to  thy  dear  cross  we  flee 164 

Lord,  at  this  closing  hour 87 

Lord,  bid  thy  light  arise 235 

Lord,  dismiss  us  with  thy  blessing.  Bid ....  94 

Lord,  dismiss  us  with  thy  blessing,  Fill.  ...  94 

Lord  God  of  Hosts,  by  all  adored 65 

Lord  God,  the  Holy  Ghost 233 

Lord,  how  mysterious  are  thy  ways 117 

Lord,  how  secure  and  blest  are  they 361 

Lord,  I  am  come  !  thy  promise  is  my 266 

Lord,  I  am  thine,  entirely  thine 421 

Lord,  I  believe ;  thy  power  I  own 349 

Lord  !  I  cannot  let  thee  go 52 

Lord,  I  hear  of  showers  of  blessing 271 

Lord,  if  he  sleep,  he  shall  do  well 493 

Lord  !  in  love  and  mercy  save  us 102 

Lord  !  in  the  morning  thou  shalt 16 

Lord,  in  this  thy  mercy's  day 272 

Lord,  it  belongs  not  to  my  care 289 

Lord,  it  is  thy  holy  day 31 

Lord  Jesus,  are  we  one  with  thee  ? 365 

Lord  Jesus,  by  thy  passion 509 

Lord  Jesus,  think  on  me 535 

Lord  Jesus  !  when  I  think  of  thee 161 

Lord,  lead  the  way  the  Saviour  went 386 

Lord,  my  weak  thought  in  vain  would  ....  117 


PAGE 

Lord  of  all  being  ;  throned  afar 115 

Lord  of  all  worlds,  incline  thy 445 

Lord  of  earth  !  thy  forming  hand 129 

Lord  of  glory  !  thou  hast  bought  us 385 

Lord  of  mercy  and  of  might,  God  and 299 

Lord  of  mercy  and  of  might.  Of  mankind. .  46 

Lord  of  our  life,  and  God  of  our 395 

Lord  of  the  harvest !  hear 396 

Lord  of  the  hearts  of  men 81 

Lord  of  the  living  harvest 547 

Lord  of  the  worlds  above 37 

Lord,  remove  the  vail  away 43 

Lord,  speak  to  me,  that  I  may  speak 547 

Lord,  thou  art  my  Rock  of  strength 525 

Lord  !  thou  hast  searched  and  seen  me. ...  113 

Lord,  thou  on  earth  didst  love  thine 402 

Lord,  thou  wilt  bring  the  joyful  day 470 

Lord,  thy  children  guide  and  keep 298 

Lord,  thy  glory  fills  the  heaven 134 

Lord,  we  come  before  thee  now 26 

Lord  !  when  I  all  things  would  possess. . . .  349 

Lord,  when  in  silent  hours  I  muse 557 

Lord,  when  my  raptured  thought 126 

Lord,  wiien  thy  kingdom  comes 266 

Lord  !  when  we  Vjend  before  thy  throne. ...  20 

Lord,  when  with  dying  lips  my  prayer 267 

Lord  !  where  shall  guilty  souls 127 

Lord  !  while  for  all  mankind  we  pray 487 

Lord,  with  glowing  heart  I  'd  praise 135 

Love  divine,  all  love  excelling. 280 

Loved  with  everlasting  love 541 

Low  in  thine  agony 554 

Majestic  sweetness  sits  enthroned 168 

Many  centuries  have  fled 553 

Master,  speak  !  thy  servant  heareth 325 

May  the  grace  of  Christ  our  Saviour 94 

Meekly  in  Jordan's  holy  stream 497 

'Mid  evening  shadows  let  us  all  be 497 

Mighty  God  !  while  angels  bless  thee 206 

Mine  eyes  and  my  desire 309 

More  love  to  thee,  O  Christ 296 

Morn's  roseate  hues  have  decked  the 197 

My  country !  't  is  of  thee 491 

My  dear  Redeemer  and  my  Lord 173 

My  faith  looks  up  to  thee 343 

My  Father,  God  !  how  sweet  the  sound  !. . ,   364 

My  Father,  it  is  good  for  me 533 

My  God,  and  is  thy  table  spread 419 

My  God,  how  endless  is  thy  love 80 

My  God,  how  wonderful  thou  art 136 

My  God,  is  any  hour  so  sweet 45 

My  God,  my  Father ! — blissful  name 137 

My  God,  my  Father  !  while  I  stray    381 

My  God,  my  King,  thy  various  praise 12 

My  God,  my  Life,  my  Love 335 

My  God  !  permit  my  tongue. 25 

My  God,  the  covenant  of  thy  love 363 

My  God  !  the  spring  of  all  my  joys 338 

My  gracious  Lord,  I  own  thy  right 421 

My  heart  lies  dead ;  and  no  increase 271 

My  hope  is  built  on  nothing  less 526 

My  Jesus,  as  thou  wilt ! 376 


576 


INDEX    OF    FIRST     LINES. 


PAGE 

My  opening  eyes  with  rapture  see 6 

My  Saviour,  I  would  own  thee 176 

My  Saviour !  my  almighty  Friend 333 

My  Saviour,  whom  absent  I  love 341 

My  Shepherd  will  supply  my  need 136 

My  sins,  my  sins,  my  Saviour  ! 508 

My  soul,  be  on  thy  guard 313 

My  soul  complete  in  Jesus  stands  ! 368 

My  soul,  how  lovely  is  the  place 16 

My  soul,  repeat  his  praise 372 

My  soul,  weigh  not  thy  life 309 

My  spirit  on  thy  care 3  ro 

Near  the  cross  was  Mary  weeping  ........  178 

Nearer,  ever  nearer 304 

Nearer,  my  God,  to  thee 295 

Nearer,  O  God,  to  thee  ! 294 

New  every  morning  is  the  love 12 

Night's  shadows  falling,  men  to  rest 96 

No  gospel  like  this  feast 425 

No  more,  my  God  !  I  boast  no  more 279 

No,  no,  it  is  not  dying 557 

None  but  Christ :  his  merit  hides  me 325 

Not  all  the  blood  of  beasts 243 

Not  all  the  nobles  of  the  earth 359 

Not  all  the  outward  forms  on  earth.  ......  246 

Not  to  the  terrors  of  the  Lord 404 

Not  what  I  am,  O  Lord,  but  what  thou  . . .  284 

Not  what  these  hands  have  done 246 

Not  with  our  mortal  eyes 335 

Not  worthy,  Lord  !  to  gather  up  the 439 

Now  begin  the  heavenly  theme 322 

Now,  from  labor  and  from  care 28 

Now  God  be  with  us,  for  the  night  is 95 

Now  I  have  found  a  Friend 294 

Now  I  know  the  great  Redeemer 327 

Now  is  the  accepted  time 258 

Now  let  my  soul,  eternal  King     105 

Now  let  our  cheerful  eyes  survey 215 

Now  let  our  souls,  on  wings  sublime 470 

Now  let  our  voices  join 24 

Now  may  he  who  from  tlie  dead 89 

Now  thank  we  all  our  God 129 

Now  that  the  sun  is  gleaming  bright 14 

Now  the  day  is  over 93 

Now  the  laborer's  task  is  o'er 554 

Now  to  the  Lord  a  noble  song 65 

Now  to  the  Lord,  who  makes  us  know  ....  208 

Now  to  the  power  of  God  supreme 196 

Now,  to  thy  sacred  house 38 

Now,  when  the  dusky  shades  of  night 72 

O,  bless  the  Lord,  my  soul ! 356 

O  blessed  Jesus,  Lamb  of  God 192 

O.  blessed  Life  !  the  heart  at  rest,  ........  531 

O  blessed  Saviour,  is  thy  love 337 

O,  blessing  rich,  for  sons  of  men 537 

O,  blest  memorial  of  our  dying  Lord 439 

O  Bread,  to  pilgrims  given. 427 

O,  cease,  my  wandering  soul . .  426 

O,  Christ,  he  is  the  fountain 432 

O  Christ  !  our  hope,  our  heart's  desire  !. . . .  214 
O  Christ,  our  King,  Creator,  Lord 209 


PAGE 

O  Christ,  the  eternal   Light 406 

O  Christ !  the  Lord  of  heaven  !  to  thee.  . . .   20S 

O  Christ,  thou  hast  ascended 185 

O  Christ,  who  hast  prepared  a  place 207 

O  Christ !  with  each  returning  morn 5 

O,  come,  all  ye  faithful 153 

O,  come,  and  let  us  all,  with  one  accord,.  .      3J 

O,  could  I  find,  from  day  to  day. . .    301 

O,  could  I  speak  the  matchless  worth   ....    192 

O  day  of  rest  and  gladness 31 

O,  do  not  let  the  word  depart 260 

O,  eyes  that  are  weary,  and  hearts 311 

O,  fair  the  gleams  of  glory  480 

O  Father,  who  didst  all  things  make 79 

O,  for  a  closer  walk  with  God 287 

O,  for  a  fftith  that  will  not  shrink 354 

O,  for  a  heart  to  praise  my  God 305 

O,  for  a  shout  of  joy 137 

O,  for  a  shout  of  sacred  joy 213 

O,  for  a  strong,  a  lasting  faith 113 

O,  for  a  sweet  inspiring  ray 559 

O,  for  a  thousand  tongues  to  sing 305 

O,  for  that  tenderness  of  heart 288 

O,  for  the  happy  hour 451 

O,  for  the  peace  which  floweth  like  a 284 

O,  give  thanks  to  him  who  made i^  i 

O,  gift  of  gifts  !  oh,  grace  of  faith  !. . .    .  .        350 

O  God,  beneath  thy  guiding  hand 489 

O  God  of  Bethel,  by  whose  hand 411 

O  God,  the  Rock  of  Ages no 

O  God,  thy  power  is  wonderful 124 

O  God  !  we  praise  thee,  and  confess 121 

O  gracious  Jesus,  hear  our  humble 551 

O  happy  band  of  pilgrims 479 

O,  happy  day  tliat  fixed  my  choice  . .  .   496,  552 
O  Holy  Pather,  who  hast  led  thy... ......    562 

O  Holy  Ghost,  the  Comforter 231 

O  Holy  Ghost,  thou  Fount  of  life 241 

O  holy,  holy,  holy  Lord 132 

O  Holy  Saviour  !  Friend  unseen 263 

O  Holy  Spirit !  now  descend  on  me 243 

O,  how  I  love  thy  holy  law 108 

O,  how  shall  I  receive  thee 176 

O,  if  my  soul  were  formed  for  woe 184 

O  Jesus  !  bruised  and  wounded  more 419 

O  Jesus  Christ,  grow  thou  in  me 528 

O  Jesus  Christ,  if  sin  there  be 276 

O  Jesus  Christ  the  righteous  !  live  in 266 

O  Jesus,  ever  present 530 

O  Jesus,  I  have  promised 552 

O  Jesus  !  King  most  wonderful 337 

O  Jesus,  "  Man  of  Sorrows  " 500 

O  Jesus,  our  salvation. 268 

O  Jesus,  sweet  the  tears  I  shed 182 

O  Jesus,  thou  art  standing 268 

O  Jesus,  we  adore  thee 184 

O  Jesus,  when  I  think  of  thee 528 

O  King  of  mercy,  from  thy  throne  on 437 

O  Lamb  of  God !  still  keep  me 184 

O  Lamb  of  God  !  that  tak'st  away 270 

O,  land  relieved  from  sorrow  ! 473 

O,  let  him  whose  sorrow 544 

O  Light,  whose  beams  illumine  all 50t) 


INDEX    OF    FIRST    LINES. 


577 


I'AGE 

O  little  town  of  Bethlehem 504 

O  Lord,  how  full  of  sweet  content 355 

O  Lord,  how  happy  should  we  be 538 

O  Lord  most  high,  eternal  King 195 

O  Lord  of  lieaven,  and  earth,  and  sea 394 

O  Lord  of  hosts,  whose  glory  tills 551 

O  Lord,  thy  work  revive 451 

O  l>ord,  turn  not  thy  face  away 276 

O  Lord,  we  now  the  path  retrace 161 

O  Lord,  who  by  thy  presence  hast 100 

O  Love  Divine  !  how  sweet  thou  art  ! 539 

O  Love  Divine  I  that  stooped  to  share 420 

O,  love,  how  deep  !  how  broad  !  how 169 

O  Love,  that  wilt  not  let  me  go 518 

O  Love,  who  formedest  me  to  wear 507 

O  Master,  let  me  walk  with  thee 170 

O,  mean  may  seem  this  house  of  clay 519 

O  mother  dear,  Jerusalem 483 

O,  not  my  own  these  verdant  hills 348 

O,  not  to  fill  the  mouth  of  fame 288 

O  one  with  God  the  Father 344 

O  Paradise  !  O  Paradise 474 

O,  perfect  life  of  love 181 

O,  praise  our  God  to-day 5^8 

O  Rock  of  Ages,  one  foundation 430 

O  sacred  Head,  now  wounded 184 

O  Saviour,  lend  a  listening  ear 255 

O  Saviour,  precious  Saviour 173 

O  Saviour,  where  shall  guilty  man 254 

O  Saviour,  who  didst  come  425 

O,  see  how  Jesus  trusts  himself 165 

O  Son  of  God,  our  Captain  of  salvation. . .  .   563 

O,  still  in  accents  sweet  and  strong 388 

O  Strength  and  Stay,  upholding  all 562 

O,  sweetly  breathe  the  lyres  above 419 

O,  that  the  Lord  would  guide  my  ways.  .  .  .    108 

O,  that  the  Lord's  salvation 449 

O,  the  sweet  wonders  of  that  cross 421 

O,  this  soul,  how  dark  and  blind 302 

O  thou  essential  Word 130 

O  thou,  from  whom  all  goodness  flows 277 

O  thou  God  wlio  hearest  prayer 275 

O  thou  great  Friend  to  all  the  sons  of 242 

O  thou,  my  soul,  forget  no  more 422 

O  thou,  the  contrite  sinner's  Friend 263 

O  thou  that  hearest  prayer  ! 400 

O  thou  who  in  Jordan  didst  bow  thy 495 

O  thou  whom  we  adore 223 

O  thou,  whose  bounty  fills  my  cup 370 

O  thou,  whose  own  vast  temple  stands 398 

O  thou,  whose  tender  mercy  hears   277 

O,  turn  ye,  oh,  turn  ye,  for  why  will  ye.  . . .    261 

O,  what  if  we  are  Christ's 425 

O,  what  shall  be,  oh,  when  shall  be 484 

O,  what  stupendous  mercy  shines 393 

O,  what  the  joy  and  the  glory  must 68 

O,  where  are  kings  and  empires  now 399 

O,  where  is  he  that  trod  the  sea? 505 

O,  where  sliall  rest  be  found 244 

O,  wherefore.  Lord,  doth  thy  dear 532 

O,  wondrous  type,  oh,  vision  fair 505 

O  Word  of  God  incarnate 109 

O,  worship  the  King,  all  glorious 68 


PAGE 

O  Zion  !  tune  thy  voice 37 

O'er  the  distant  mountains  breaking 5 10 

O'er  the  gloomy  hills  of  darkness 450 

Of  the  Father's  love  begotten 158 

Oft  in  danger,  oft  in  woe 524 

On  Jordan's  bank  the  Baptist's  cry 169 

On  Jordan's  rugged  banks  I  stand   477 

On  mountains  and  in  valleys iii 

On  our  way  rejoicing 492 

On  the  fount  of  life  eternal 483 

On  the  mountain's  top  appearing 450 

On  this  day,  the  first  of  days 27 

On  thy  church,  O  Power  divine 31 

On  wings  of  living  light 188 

Once  I  thought  my  mountain  strong 298 

Once  in  royal  David's  city 151 

Once  more,  before  we  part 85 

Once  more,  my  soul,  the  rising  day 18 

One  cup  of  healing  oil  and  wine 393 

One  is  kind  above  all  others 159 

One  sole  baptismal  sign 400 

One  sweetly  solemn  thought 462 

One  there  is  above  all  others 176 

Onward,  Christian  soldiers 314 

Onward,  Christian,  though  the  region 383 

Onward,  onward,  men  of  heaven  ! 454 

Open  now  thy  gates  of  beauty 44 

Our  blest  Redeemer,  ere  he  breathed 228 

Our  country's  voice  is  pleading 447 

Our  Father,  hear  our  longing  prayer 337 

Our  Father  !  through  the  coming  year 488 

Our  God,  our  help  in  ages  past 136 

Our  heavenly  Father  calls 57 

Our  heavenly  Father  !  hear 501 

Our  Helper,  God  !  we  bless  thy  name 490 

Our  life  is  hid  with  Christ 224 

Our  Lord  is  risen  from  the  dead 210 

Our  Saviour  bowed  beneath  the  wave 494 

Our  sins,  our  sorrows.  Lord,  were 282 

Our  yet  unfinished  story 562 

Peace,  perfect  peace,  in  this  dark 438 

Peace,  troubled  soul,  whose 378 

People  of  the  Jiving  God 429 

Pilgrims  in  this  vale  of  sorrow 536 

Pleasant  are  thy  courts  above 42 

Praise  God,  from  whom  all  blessings. . .  .61,  102 

Praise,  Lord,  for  thee  in  Zion  waits 62 

Praise  the  God  of  our  salvation 89 

Praise  tiie  Lord  !  ye  heavens  adore  him. . .  loi 

Praise  the  Saviour,  ye  who  know  him 198 

Praise  to  God,  immortal  praise 487 

Praise  to  thee,  thou  great  Creator 75 

Praise  waits  in  Zion,  Lord  !  for  thee 66 

Praise  ye  Jehovah!  praise  the  Lord 72 

Praise  ye  the  Father,  for  his  loving 550 

Prayer  is  the  breath  of  God  in  man 54 

Prayer  is  the  soul's  sincere  desire 55 

Precious,  precious  blood  of  Jesus 513 

Prepare  us,  I>ord,  to  view  thy  cross 424 

Prostrate,  dear  Jesus,  at  thy  feet 277 

Purer  yet  and  purer 304 

Quiet,  Lord,  my  froward  heart 358 


578 


INDEX    OF    FIRST    LINES. 


PAGE 

Kejoice  in  God  alway 536 

Rejoice,  rejoice,  believers 226 

Rejoice  !  the  Lord  is  King 188 

Rejoice,  ye  pure  in  heart 535 

Rest  of  the  wenry,  joy  of  the  sad 518, 

Return,  my  roving  heart,  return   280 

Return,  O  wanderer,  to  thy  home 257 

Ride  on!  ride  on  in  majesty 168 

Rise,  crowned  with  light,  imperial 445 

Rise,  glorious  Conqueror,  rise 201 

Rise,  my  soul,  and  stretch  thy  wings 484 

Rise,  ye  children  of  salvation 324 

Rock  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me  ! 413,  415 

Roll  on,  thou  mighty  ocean 450 

Safely  through  another  week 41 

Saints  in  glory,  we  together 527 

Saints  of  God!  the  dawn  is  brightening. . .  450 

Salvation  is  for  ever  nigh 360 

Salvation  ! — oh,  the  joyful  sound 249 

Saviour,  again  to  thy  dear  name  we 98 

Saviour  and  Lord  of  all 524 

Saviour,  blessed  Saviour. ...    304 

Saviour,  breathe  an  evening  blessing 93 

Saviour,  happy  would  I  be 359 

Saviour  !  hasten  thine  appearing 218 

Saviour  I  hear  us,  we  pray 529 

Saviour  !  I  follow  on 296 

Saviour  King,  in  hallowed  union 409 

Saviour,  let  thy  love  for  me 328 

Saviour,  now  the  day  is  ending 97 

Saviour  of  our  ruined  race 553 

Saviour,  send  a  blessing  to  us 33 

Saviour !  teach  me,  day  by  day 331 

Saviour,  to  thee  we  raise  our  hymn  of 503 

Saviour,  through  the  desert  lead  us 323 

Saviour,  thy  dying  love 297 

Saviour,  visit  thy  plantation  ! 452 

Saviour,  when,  in  dust,  to  thee 292 

Saviour  !  who  thy  flock  art  feeding 410 

Say  not,  my  soul,  "  From  whence 545 

Scorn  not  the  slightest  word  or  deed 387 

See  a  poor  sinner,  dearest  Lord 278 

See  Israel's  gentle  Shepherd  stands. 411 

See,  the  Conqueror  mounts  in  triumph. . . .   204 

See  the  eternal  Judge  descending 468 

Send  thou,  O  Lord,  to  every  place 557 

Servant  of  God,  well  done  ! 464 

Shadow  of  a  Mighty  Rock 525 

Shepherd  !  with  thy  tenderest  love 357 

Shine,  mighty  God  !  on  Zion  shine 444 

Shine  on  our  souls,  eternal  God 84 

Shout,  O  earth  !  from  silence  waking 152 

Shout  the  glad  tidings,  exultingly 150 

Show  pity.  Lord  !  O  Lord  !  forgive 265 

Since  Jesus  is  my  friend 335 

Since  thy  Father's  arm  sustains  thee 381 

Sing,  all  ye  ransomed  of  the  Lord 523 

Sing,  O  heavens  !  O  earth  !  rejoice 200 

Sing,  sing  his  lofty  praise 203 

Sing  to  the  Lord  a  joyful  song 64 

Sing  to  the  Lord,  our  Might 58 

Sing  we  the  song  of  those  who  stand 18 


PAGE 

Sing  with  all  the  sons  of  glorj* 205 

Sinners,  turn,  why  will  ye  die 257 

Sion,  to  thy  Saviour  singing 431 

Sit  down  beneath  his  shadow 430 

Sleep  thy  last  sleep,  free  from  care 466 

So  let  our  lips  and  lives  express 356 

So  rest,  our  Rest,  thou  ever  blest 187 

Softly  fades  the  twilight  ray 26 

Softly  now  the  light  of  day 88 

Soldiers  of  Christ,  arise 524 

Sometimes  a  light  surprises 315 

Son  of  God  !  to  thee  I  cry 414 

Sons  of  Zion,  raise  your  songs 510 

Songs  of  praise  the  angels  sang 70 

Soon  may  the  last  glad  song  arise 454 

Soon  will  the  heavenly  Bridegroom.    220 

Soul,  then  know  thy  full  salvation 435 

Sovereign  of  worlds  !  display  thy 456 

Sow  in  the  morn  thy  seed 391 

Speak  to  me.  Lord,  thyself  reveal 17 

Spirit  blest,  who  art  adored 513 

Spirit  of  God  !  descend  upon  my  heart . , . .   243 

Spirit  of  the  Only  Wise 513 

Stand,  soldier  of  the  cross 552 

Stand  up,  and  bless  the  Lord 59 

Stand  up,  my  soul,  shake  off  thy  fears 319 

Stand  up  ! — stand  up  for  Jesus  I 315 

Standing  at  the  portal 492 

Stars  of  the  morning,  so  gloriously 70 

Stealing  from  the  world  away 52 

Still,  still  with  thee,  my  God 84 

Still,  still  with  thee,  when  purple 527 

Still  will  we  trust,  though  earth  seem 541 

Summer  suns  are  glowing 492 

Sun  of  my  soul  !  thou  Saviour  dear 77 

Sure  the  blest  Comforter  is  nigh 239 

Surely  Christ  thy  griefs  hath  borne 275 

Sweet  is  the  light  of  Sabbath  eve 8 

Sweet  is  the  memory  of  thy  grace 126 

Sweet  is  the  work,  my  God,  my  King  !. . . .      10 

Sweet  is  the  work,  O  Lord 23 

Sweet  is  thy  mercy.  Lord 501 

Sweet  Saviour,  bless  us  ere  we  go 91 

Sweet  the  moments,  rich  in  blessing 435 

Sweet  the  time,  exceeding  sweet 53 

Sweet  was  the  time  when  first  I  felt 300 

Sweeter  sounds  than  music  knows 329 

Swell  the  anthem,  raise  the  song 486 

Swift  to  its  close  ebbs  out  life's  little 100 

Take  me,  O  my  Father,  take  me 262 

Take  my  heart,  O  Father  !  take  it 416 

Take  my  life,  and  let  it  be 301 

"  Take  up  thy  cross,"  the  Saviour  said.  .  .  .   392 
Teach  me  to  do  the  thing  that  pleaseth. . .  .    242 

Tell  me,  my  Saviour 520 

Tell  me  the  old,  old  story 513 

Tell  me,  whom  my  soul  doth  love 39 

Tender  Shepherd,  thou  hast  stilled 465 

Ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand 481 

The  atoning  work  is  done 252 

The  Church  has  waited  long 222 

The  Church's  one  foundation 427 


INDEX    OF    FIRST    LINES. 


579 


PAGE 

The  Comforter  has  come 233 

Tlie  dawn  of  God's  new  Sabbath 32 

The  day  is  gently  sinking  to  a  close 98 

The  day  is  past  and  gone 86 

The  day  is  past  and  over 88 

The  day,  O  Lord,  is  spent   85 

The  day  of  praise  is  done 87 

The  day  of  rest  once  more  comes 11 

The  day  of  resurrection 189 

The  gloomy  night  will  soon  be  past 321 

The  God  of  Abraham  praise 72 

The  golden  gates  are  lifted  up 214 

The  happy  morn  is  come 509 

The  harvest  dawn  is  near 313 

The  head  that  once  was  crowned  with  ....   210 

The  heavens  declare  his  glory no 

The  heavens  declare  thy  glory.  Lord 103 

The  Holy  Ghost  is  here 234 

The  Homeland  !  oh,  the  Homeland  !......   559 

The  hours  of  day  are  over 500 

The  King  of  love  my  Shepherd  is 341 

The  Lord  descended  from  above 123 

The  Lord  is  my  Shepherd,  no  want 311 

"  The  Lord  is  risen  indeed  " 198 

The  Lord  Jehovah  lives 139 

The  Lord  Jehovah  reigns 139 

The  Lord  my  pasture  shall  prepare 346 

The  Lord  my  Shepherd  is 336 

The  Lord  of  glory  is  my  light 67 

The  Lord,  our  God,  is  full  of  might 122 

The  Lord  's  my  Shepherd,  I  '11  not 336 

The  Lord  will  come,  and  not  be  slow 556 

The  marriage  feast  is  ready 226 

The  mercies  of  my  God  and  King 119 

The  mercy  of  tlie  Lord  is  from 410 

The  morning  light  is  breaking 449 

The  peace  which  God  alone  reveals 80 

Tlie  people  of  the  Lord 312 

The  promises  I  sing 138 

The  radiant  morn  hath  passed  away 45 

The  roseate  hues  of  early  dawn 476 

The  Sabbath  day  has  reached  its  close 82 

The  sands  of  time  are  sinking 472 

The  Saviour  bids  thee  watch  and  pray 351 

The  Saviour  kindly  calls 412 

The  Saviour  !  oh,  what  endless  charms. . . .    165 

The  shadows  of  the  evening  hours 83 

The  Son  of  God  goes  forth  to  war 389 

The  spacious  firmament  on  high 114 

The  Spirit  breathes  upon  the  word 106 

The  Spirit  in  our  hearts 258 

The  strife  is  o'er,  the  battle  done 197 

The  sun  is  sinking  fast 88 

The  swift  declining  day 85 

The  voice  of  free  grace  cries,  Escape 515 

The  world  is  very  evil 561 

Thee  we  adore,  eternal  Name 487 

Thee  will  I  love,  my  Strength,  my 345 

There  is  a  blessed  home 377 

There  is  a  book,  wlio  runs  may  read 1 19 

There  is  a  City,  great  and  strong 560 

Tliere  is  a  fountain  filled  with  blood 249 

There  is  a  green  hill  far  away 181 


PAGE 

There  is  a  holy  sacrifice 269 

There  is  a  land  immortal 561 

There  is  a  land  of  pure  delight 478 

'I'here  is  a  name  I  love  to  hear. ....   168 

There  is  a  safe  and  secret  place 363 

There  is  a  spot  of  consecrated  ground 56 

There  is  an  eye  that  never  sleeps 50 

There  is  an  hour  of  peaceful  rest 473 

There  is  no  night  in  heaven 469 

There  's  a  wideness  in  God's  mercy 135 

They  who  seek  the  throne  of  grace 52  • 

Thine  are  all  the  gifts,  O  God  ! 549 

Thine  earthly  Sabbaths,  Lord,  we 7 

Thine  for  ever  !  God  of  love 430 

Thine  for  ever,  thine  for  ever  !. 553 

Thine  holy  day's  returning 32 

Think  gently  of  the  erring  one  ! 389 

This  child  we  dedicate  to  thee 413 

"  This  is  my  body,  which  is  given  for 438 

This  is  not  my  place  of  resting 475 

This  is  the  day  of  light 22 

This  is  the  day  the  Lord  hath  made 21 

This  rite  our  blest  Redeemer  gave 498 

Thou  art  coming  !    At  thy  table 440 

Thou  art  coming,  O  my  Saviour ! 440 

Thou  art  gone  up  on  high  199 

Thou  art  my  hiding  place,  O  Lord  ! 365 

Thou  art  the  Way  ;  to  thee  alone 164 

Thou,  from  whom  we  never  part 91 

Thou  God  of  hope,  to  thee  we  bow 546 

TI10U  grace  divine  encircling  all 504 

Thou  lovely  Source  of  true  delight, 167 

Thou  Maker  of  our  mortal  frame 550 

Thou  only  Sovereign  of  my  heart 279 

Thou  to  whom  the  sick  and  dying 177 

Thou  veiy  present  Aid 367 

Thou  who  art  enthroned  above 502 

Thou  who  didst  on  Calvary  bleed 286 

Tliou  who  roU'st  the  3'ear  around 485 

Thou  !  whose  almighty  word 230 

Though  faint,  yet  pursuing,  we  go  on 311 

Though  I  speak  with  angel  tongues 359 

Though  now  the  nations  sit  beneath 456 

Though  sorrows  rise  and  dangers  roll 347 

Though  troubles  assail,  and  dangers 319 

Three  in  One,  and  One  in  Three 46 

Through  all  the  changing  scenes  of  life. . . .   354 

Through  good  report  and  evil.  Lord 45 

Through  the  day  thy  love  has  spared  us... .     97 

Through  the  love  of  God  our  Saviour 314 

Through  the  night  of  doubt  and  sorrow... .  408 

Through  the  yesterday  of  ages 324 

Thus  far  the  Lord  has  led  me  on 81 

Thy  bounties,  gracious  Lord 546 

Thy  Father's  house  !  thine  own  bright 471 

Thy  home  is  with  the  humble,  Lord ! 352 

Thy  life  was  given  for  me 272 

Thy  way,  not  mine,  O  Lord 376 

Thy  way,  O  Lord,  is  in  the  sea 119 

"  Thy  will  be  done  ! "     In  devious  way. . . .   558 

Thy  word,  O  Lord,  thy  precious  word 542 

Thy  works,  not  mine,  O  Christ 252 

"  Till  He  come  :  "  O  let  the  words 414 


58o 


INDEX    OF    FIRST    LINES. 


PAGE 

Time,  thou  speedest  on  but  slowly 476 

'T  is  by  the  faith  of  joys  to  come 354 

"  'T  is  finished!  " — so  the  Saviour 179 

'T  is  God  the  Father  we  adore 497 

'T  is  God  the  Spirit  leads 236 

'T  is  midnight ;  and  on  Olive's  brow 179 

*T  is  my  happiness  below   375 

'T  is  not  a  cause  of  small  import 398 

'T  is  not  that  I  did  choose  thee. iii 

Together  with  these  symbols,  Lord 424 

.  To  God  the  Father,  God  the  Son 61 

To  God  the  only  wise 88 

To  him  that  chose  us  first 138 

To  him  that  loved  the  souls  of  men 75 

To  Jesus,  our  exalted  Lord 419 

To  thee,  my  God  and  Saviour 174 

To  thee,  O  Ciuist,  we  ever  pray 339 

To  thee,  O  dear,  dear  Saviour  ! 529 

To  thee,  O  God,  we  raise 130 

To  thy  pastures  fair  and  large 26 

To  thy  temple  we  repair 25 

Too  soon  we  rise  ;  the  symbols 439 

Traveling  to  the  better  land 319 

Triumphant  Lord,  thy  goodness  reigns. . . .  132 

Triumphant  Zion,  lift  thy  head 443 

True  Bread  of  life,  in  pitying  mercy 439 

'T  was  on  that  dark,  that  doleful  night 418 

Unshaken  as  the  sacred  hill 363 

Unto  thee  be  glory  given 44 

Upon  the  Gospel's  sacred  page 105 

Upward  where  the  stars  are  burning 41 

Vainly,  through  night's  weary  hours 383 

Wait,  my  soul,  upon  the  Lord 545 

Wait,  O  mv  soul!  thy  Maker's  will 113 

Wake,  awake  !  for  night  is  flying 215 

Walk  in  the  light!  so  shalt  thou  know.  . . .  350 

Walking  with  thee,  my  God 295 

Warrior  kings  their  titles  gain 329 

Watchman,  tell  us  of  the  night 227 

We  are  but  strangers  here 293 

We  are  living,  we  are  dwelling 55^ 

We  are  not  left  to  walk  alone 2IO 

We  are  the  Lord's  ;  his  all-sufficient 285 

We  bless  thee  for  thy  peace,  O  God  ! 540 

We  come,  O  T^ord,  before  thy  throne 488 

We  give  immortal  praise 139 

We  give  thee  but  thine  own ....  390 

We  march,  we  march  to  victory 150 

We  may  not  climb  the  heavenly  steeps. . . .  166 

We  plow  the  fields,  and  scatter 493 

We  saw  thee  not  when  thou  didst 506 

"  We  shall  see  him,"  in  our  nature 194 

We  stand  in  deep  repentance 269 

We  would  see  Jesus — for  the  shadows 284 

Weary  of  earth,  and  laden  with  my  sin. . . .  265 

Welcome,  davs  of  solemn  meeting 35 

Welcome,  delightful  morn 39 

Welcome,  happy  morning 196 

Welcome,  sacred  day  of  rest 42 


PAGE 

Welcome,  sweet  day  of  rest 25 

What  cheering  words  are  these 366 

What  equal  honors  shall  we  bring 207 

What  finite  power,  with  ceaseless  toil 114 

What  grace,  O  Lord,  and  beauty  shone. .  .  .  163 

What  is  life  ?  't  is  but  a  vapor 4S2 

What  our  Father  does  is  well 299 

What  shall  I  render  to  my  God iiS 

What  sinners  value  I  resign 460 

When  adverse  winds  and  waves  arise 379 

When  all  thy  mercies,  O  my  God 120 

When  along  life's  thorny  road 373 

When  downward  to  the  darksome 459 

When  gathering  clouds  around  I  view 379 

When  God,  of  old,  came  down  from 228 

When  his  salvation  bringing 175 

When  human  hopes  all  wither 26S 

When  I  can  read  my  title  clear 362 

When  I  had  wandered  from  his  fold 540 

When  I  survey  tlie  wondrous  cross 180 

When  I  view  my  Saviour  bleeding 436 

When  Jesus  dwelt  in  mortal  clay 393 

When  Jordan  hushed  Iiis  waters  still 144 

When,  like  a  stranger  on  our  sphere 172 

When,  marshaled  on   the  nightly  plain 144 

When  morning  gilds  the  skies 5 

When  my  last  hour  is  close  at  hand 469 

When  on  Sinai's  top  I  see 428 

When  our  heads  are  bowed  with  woe 373 

When  shades  of  night  around  us  close 79 

When  sins  and  feai\s,  prevailing,  rise 368 

When,  streaming  from  the  eastern 92 

When  the  day  of  toil  is  done 286 

When  the  weary,  seeking  rest 56 

When  thou,  my  righteous  Judge,  shalt 225 

When  winds  are  raging  o'er  the  upper 516 

When,  wounded  sore,  the  stricken  soul. . . .  301 

Where  high  the  heavenly  temple  stands..  .  .  47 

Wherever  two  or  three  may  meet 51 

While  in  sweet  communion  feeding 416 

While  in  this  sacred  rite  of  thine 497 

While  shepherds  watched  their  flocks 146 

While  thee  I  seek,  protecting  Power 117 

While  we  lowly  bow  before  thee 33 

While,  with  ceaseless  course,  the  sun 486 

Who  are  these  like  stars  appearing 482 

Who  is  this  that  comes  from  Edom 204 

Who  shall  the  Lord's  elect  condemn 362 

Why  do  we  mourn  departing  friends 458 

Why  is  thy  faith,  O  child  of  God 283 

Why  on  the  bending  willows  hung 443 

Why  should  the  children  of  a  King 229 

Why  should  we  start,  and  fear  to  die? 461 

Why  will  ye  waste  on  trifliirg  cares. ...  260 

With  broken  heart  and  contrite  sigh 264 

With  deepest  reverence  at  thy  throne 112 

With  joy  we  hail  the  sacred  day 19 

With  joy  we  lift  our  eyes 24 

With  songs  and  honors  sounding  loud 74 

With  tearful  eyes  I  look  around 279 

With  the  sweet  word  of  peace 55^ 

Work,  for  the  night  is  coming 39' 

Work  while  it  is  to-dav 3^9 


INDEX    OF    FIRST    LINES. 


581 


PAGE 

Worsliip  the  Lord  in  the  beauty  of 64 

\Vouldst  thou  eternal  life  obtain 254 

Ve  messengers  of  Christ 397 

Ye  saints,  your  music  bring 252 

Ye  servants  of  God,  your  Master 67 

Ye  servants  of  the  Lord  ! 511 

Ye  sons  and  daughters  of  the  Lord 198 


PAGP 

Ye  souls  for  whom  the  Son  did  die 53S 

Yes,  for  me,  for  me  he  careth 437 

Yes,  he  knows  the  way  is  dreary 325 

Yes,  I  do  feel,  my  God,  that  I  am  thine. . .  267 

Your  harps,  ye  trembling  saints 308 

Zion,  awake!  thy  strength   renew 457 

Zion,  the  marvelous  story  be  telling 150 


TH^:    END, 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

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This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


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